He has a key.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s a nice key, heavy enough, a solid chunk of brass so old it\u2019s almost black.\u00c2\u00a0 It tingles in his hand.\u00c2\u00a0 His mother gave it to him the day he \u201cbecame a man\u201d, whatever that might mean.\u00c2\u00a0 That was a while ago.<\/p>\n
He carries the key always.\u00c2\u00a0 It\u2019s on his keychain, with all the other keys–car, home, office, shed, footlocker, chest, three Master locks, and one tiny bike lock.\u00c2\u00a0 He\u2019s also got a wallet in his back pocket all the time, and wears a watch which usually tells the time rather well.\u00c2\u00a0 Sometimes, his watches do other things.\u00c2\u00a0 He has a mighty collection of watches.<\/p>\n
This isn\u2019t a story about his watches.<\/p>\n
His name\u2019s Dan.\u00c2\u00a0 It\u2019s a simple enough name, and he likes it, and he wears it proudly.\u00c2\u00a0 He looks like a Dan, neat dark hair, good clothes, tall and lithe, and he believes he\u2019s fairly good looking.\u00c2\u00a0 But he doesn\u2019t really worry about that.<\/p>\n
There\u2019s a storm brewing in the distance.\u00c2\u00a0 Bars opening up, but he\u2019s still in the library.\u00c2\u00a0 He\u2019s been there three nights running now.\u00c2\u00a0 He\u2019s asked the librarian questions about biographies, Ray Bradbury novels, the magazine selection, moon flights, Aesop, gothic architecture, and Japanese death poems.\u00c2\u00a0 He doesn\u2019t like that the writers of the Bushido code were not exclusively warriors.<\/p>\n
He goes back again and again, for advise on using the Internet for genealogical questions, ordering an interlibrary book, local places for good music, and Mexican food.<\/p>\n
Her name\u2019s Sally.\u00c2\u00a0 She\u2019s all red hair and dimples.\u00c2\u00a0 She\u2019s older than she looks and younger than she pretends to be.\u00c2\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t have glasses, but does wear the same silver pendant every day.\u00c2\u00a0 She bites the end of her pen and sometimes sucks her bottom lip into her mouth when she\u2019s concentrating.\u00c2\u00a0 She twirls her hair in her fingers and often, when she thinks no one\u2019s looking, stares out the windows at the clouds, attaching shapes and figures and even names.<\/p>\n
Dan\u2019s even asked her about the clouds, and this night, finally, since he\u2019s fairly sure she expects something, he asks if he can buy her some coffee.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t drink coffee,\u201d she says.\u00c2\u00a0 She waits a beat, during which Dan\u2019s chest turns itself inside-out.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cBut if you\u2019ll entertain a hot chocolate instead, the library closes in five minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
It\u2019s easy to find a place for hot chocolate.\u00c2\u00a0 Any caf\u00c3\u00a9 will do.\u00c2\u00a0 They sit outside, and it\u2019s one of the sweetest, creamiest chocolates either of them has ever tasted.<\/p>\n
Sometime during the night, which stretches infinitely toward dawn, Dan shows Sally his the key his mother gave him.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ve been saving this,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat for?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTonight, I think,\u201d he says.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s a magic key.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyebrows dance in anticipation.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cWhat kind of magic does it do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt opens hearts.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally?\u201d\u00c2\u00a0 Sally sips more chocolate.\u00c2\u00a0 When she sets it down, both hands wrap around the mug and she leans closer.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cDo you intend to use it to unlock my heart?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, no,\u201d he says.\u00c2\u00a0 He takes the key off the ring, places it on the table between them, and leans back.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cIt doesn\u2019t work like that.\u00c2\u00a0 It can only unlock one heart.\u201d<\/p>\n
She\u2019s somewhat taken aback.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cNot mine, then?\u201d<\/p>\n
He says, \u201cMine.\u201d<\/p>\n
A beat, two, a long stretch of silence, before Sally picks up the key and holds it up.\u00c2\u00a0 She examines it a moment, the nicks, the scratches, the lack of tarnish.\u00c2\u00a0 There\u2019s dust in its teeth.\u00c2\u00a0 She can see reflection in the flat of it.\u00c2\u00a0 She closes her hand around the key and smiles, looks at Dan from under her eyebrows, and says, as though they are rather delicious words, but also so that there\u2019s no doubt, \u201cThat makes you mine.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
He has a key. It\u2019s a nice key, heavy enough, a solid chunk of brass so old it\u2019s almost black.\u00c2\u00a0 It tingles in his hand.\u00c2\u00a0 […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[12,6,1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/627"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=627"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/627\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=627"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=627"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=627"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}