She didn't know what to expect when she left the parking lot. The only thing guiding her was the pain in her stomach and a check engine light flashing between stop signs. She headed towards Captain Coffee, an international chain of overpriced milk and espresso concoctions whose logo consisted of a cartoon sea-outlaw clasping his large sword and smiling with sparse white teeth. "Arrgh!" Ariel thought. But, it was the fast, convenient fix she needed with minimal human interaction. She ordered the daily brew and a banana nut muffin.
When someone leaves, even if you partially want them to, it leaves this imperceptible line connecting you to the opposing person, and that's all. There is only that string between you---some memories and perhaps a few scattered objects---which remains the only evidence they ever existed. Ariel felt she had no right to her feelings; after all, David was still alive, just not with her. He could go on now and lead a happy life, as could she. She cried on the lid of her to-go mug.
She didn't want to go home, but the car wasn't a safe bet, so she drove along Anderson Road, a street where every two blocks or so was a different mechanic. As a result, the part of town wasn't a safe bet either, but Ariel was feeling destructive in the way that guilt and sorrow yields. She remembered she had stocked some Camel Lights in the glove box. She lit up and turned right to turn left to turn around and kept on. The sky was completely covered.
