Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 - Page 162

The Card | Melissa Palmer

‘What does he mean it didn’t resonate?’

‘He didn’t get it.’

‘Did you pitch it like I said?’

‘Yes.’

‘With the picture?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the inside?’

She shrugged.

‘So what happened?’

‘I came here to let you down easy.’

She pulled open the selections of the day shifting him from view. He looked like one of his own cartoons staring slightly openmouthed, saucer eyed, unable to process what he’d heard.

A sniff, a rustle of napkin, just enough time for that breath and quick sip of water, released the questions otherwise burdened by the tacky lips of those stunned to silence.

‘Did he even look at it?’

‘Yes, he looked.’ She said in the same breath from behind the menu, ‘hot tea and an English muffin please,’ as if both phrases belonged in the same world.

He couldn’t fault her for her candor. It’s one of the things that made her so special even in pigtails and denim overalls.

‘You have really big teeth.’

She had pointed at his incisors when he smiled his first hello, a life ago, not out of insult but out of the sheer obviousness of the