Tall Corn

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man and woman escaping the city.

Submitted: May 06, 2010

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Submitted: May 06, 2010

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Tall corn went on as far as the eye could see, and it danced in the night wind. The large moon cascaded the hills that ran with the corn, and the clouds smeared smoothly above them. The city’s haze of light could easily be seen diminishing from behind, but they drove faster.
The road was brand new. It was just put in and yet no one really used it. The new concrete made the drive a glide, and the yellow hashes still looked wet. They flew like there was a tornado behind them.
Soon, night grew darker, and the city vanished behind them. They slowed a little. It was just the moon, the taillights, one headlight, and the radio that was left to see. The corn, too; but it mostly borrowed from the moon. Still though, the corn looked like a growing, dancing crowd of lightning.
“Beautiful,” she said.
“Yea it is,” he said.
They both were looking at the corn and moon orchestra.
The smear above them was gone, and the stars were gathering around. They added some light, but nothing to what the moon was giving. The moon was taking up half the sky, every crater and crack showing. Still though, the spotlight was on the corn.
The road was black ahead, just the opposite that was around them. The moon couldn’t even penetrate its darkness. The one headlight did nothing either. It showed what was in front, but not what was to come. Yet, the closer him and her got to the darkness, the better they felt.
The radio was getting static, so she turned it off. They unbuckled their seat belts at the same time, and they lit their cigarettes at the same time. They exhaled, then looked at each other and smiled.
“I love this drive,” she said looking away. “It gets us away, you know?”
“Yea it does,” he said still looking at her.
“I mean, the more we do this, the stress just flies away, you know?”
“Yea, I know.” He looked away, and tossed his cigarette.
“Then why don’t we do this more?” She looked at him.
“I don’t know,” he looked at her. “I like doing this, but it takes away from everything else.”
She didn’t understand. “Like what? You hate your job, your family, your home. You always talk about how boring your life is.” She tossed her cigarette.
He looked away from her. He hated his job and home, but not his family.
“Do you hate Carey?” He asked.
She looked away from him, and looked at herself in the rearview mirror. “No, but I know she likes you.” She looked at him again.
He looked at her. Only half her face was visible from the moon.
“Really?”
“Yea, she likes you a lot.”
He was happy to hear that. He liked her daughter, and was always worried about what she thought of him. “My kids like you, if you wanted to know.” He said.
“Really? They’re both so sweet and nice.”
The darkness broke in front of them. “Your wife on the other hand…” she looked hard behind the seat. Darkness was behind them now. “…is a complete bitch.” She turned back around.
He cracked a smile. “What makes you say that?”
She held out her hand and started to count. “She cheats on you, drinks like a camel, treats your kids badly, is never there for you and doesn’t love you.”
She felt bad for saying that last one for some reason. She looked away from him, and looked at herself for a while. He didn’t look at her, or the road.
Nothing was said after that, and nothing could be said after that for the darkness ahead turned white.
The headlight caught the deer leaving the glowing field, and froze it deep in the black road. When they hit, they shot through the windshield, and rolled into the tall corn, together.
The moon was still large, and it still gave so much to the corn. It gave so much that the earth beneath the corn lit up just like the softness above. Her face was lit up now, along with his.
She didn’t move, and her eyes were closed.
His were open, and moving all around, seeing every stalk. Darkness was sneaking around them, and the moon light peeked above. He slowly crawled closer to her, and gently grabbed her hand. He stroked his thumb over the top of her hand.
Her head wasn’t moving, and her eyes were still shut. Her breath wasn’t leaving, or entering. Her chest was still, and her legs were broken. One arm lay over the crushed corn, and the other lay next to him. Her hand was bloody from his, and her fingers were stiff and ice cold.
Yet, her thumb slowly stroked his hand.


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