Tides of Obviousness
a short story
Tides of Obviousness
by Ophelia Everfall
Daphne thought her hair looked good, but the back was parted like a child who’d not learned how to care for it in the slightest. From certain angles it might.
She was really nervous walking into the bathroom because this park was filled with righteous old people. Nobody was in there. She’d still been panicked the whole time.
Sitting by the shoreline she’d thought about as little as possible. It wasn’t easy. She’d begged for this for months. She wanted to meet and talk with Mary one more time. She wanted to set things right—Daphne’s head hadn’t made any peace of the situation since they’d stopped talking and being friends.
Mary wasn’t sure why Daphne insisted on this conversation. She was dreading it. She was planning to say the thing which felt impossible to say and the reason why she was denying them this gathering. How do you tell someone you just decided you’d rather not be friends with them? That you had too many people around you liked better and it was full? She didn’t want to do that and had tried to just avoid it altogether, until it was clear Daphne was going to lose herself without some kind of real closure.
After a while they’d found them there sitting in quiet. She could tell they were nervous. The way they stood out so plainly from everyone, how people looked towards her immediately, had Mary realizing why she didn’t want to come.
She loved Daphne. She wouldn’t be able to lie to her face.
