Emeline tilted her skinny-jean-clad hips toward the wall of glass, watching the 747s approach the orderly runways with seemingly illogical markings. Obviously the pilots had to learn what those meant, but it just looked like sidewalk chalk gone wild to her. She fidgeted impatiently with the cameo locket whose chain perpetually encircled her slender neck. Her twin sister, Jasmine, was coming to visit for the first time since they had both fled home for college. She to the West to major in music history at USC; Jasmine to the East to study at Juilliard.
Emeline wiggled her toes from excitement in her TOMS. They were a parting/good-luck gift from her sister. Emmie loved them. She wasn't one to spend much on clothes; these shoes were by far the most expensive item in her wardrobe. But it was just like Jazz to choose something so perfect for Emmie, without regard to cost and at the same time, with a company that was philanthropic in its own right.
She imagined the look on Jasmine's face when they first saw each other. Emeline had chopped off her long, wavy, blonde hair into a straight bob and dyed it bright red, wearing it in a mussed, bed-head style. Would Jazz even recognize her? Emmie smiled to herself; of course, she would. The connection between their souls was such a tight bond, Emeline believed Jasmine could find her in the middle of Times Square on New Year's Eve.
Emmie's vintage gingham top reflected back at her in the window as she squinted her eyes and tried to figure out which plane was her sister's. The aircraft that were circling above appeared to be tiny models in the sky, but as they approached the runways, they became larger, and she could make out the logos on their tails.
American,
United,
Delta,
United,
United,
American,
Frontier,
American,
United,
Southwest,
Southwest,
Southwest,
Jet Blue.
That must be it. Emeline smiled, unable to contain her joy. She had so many things to tell Jasmine; they had decided to save their limited cell minutes and wait to talk in person this week. Emmie was debating what she would ask Jazz about first when she noticed the Jet Blue plane seemed to be going faster than the others she'd seen land. She looked more closely. The wheels didn't appear to be down. Her heart caught in her throat.
Emeline's hand formed a fist around the pendant she had previously caressed as she watched, horrified. The nose of the plane hit first, the clamor of screeching metal perceptible through the glass, not only as sound, but as physical vibrations. Her fist pounded forward against the window in defiance, breaking the clasp on the necklace as it hammered again and again in syncopation with her screams, willing the catastrophe to end. The body of the plane was next, pitching the tail up and forward before falling back and collapsing as a trail of dominoes, flames erupting in staccato explosions.
Despondent, Emeline felt her body start to give out, and she leaned her forehead against the window for support. Plump tears fell in a cadence down her cheeks as she closed her azure eyes behind her Buddy Holly-style glasses. The muscles in her hand relaxed, suddenly exhausted, and the necklace slid from her grasp. The locket bounced as it hit the industrial carpet and sprung open, revealing aged photos of two towheaded girls. The chain continued it's descent, coming to its final resting place on top of her left shoe.
This week's prompt was to write about your character (or yourself) and a pair of his or her shoes. Those shoes can be real or symbolic, they can hurt or be super comfy but I want to see what they say about the life of the person wearing them. Concrit is always welcome!
