Caged Bird Sings: A Narrative Fiction

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The sun shines through his curtains, much to his dismay. He sits up in his bed and sighs. It takes him a moment to open his eyes fully and when he does he sees a small object on his dresser catching the light that slips through his curtains. He walks to the ring and rolls it around his fingers a few times.

His mother was so keen on helping others. It only makes sense that this goes to Norma. He clutches it in his fists as he thinks about his mother wearing the ring. He thinks about how happy he wanted his mother to be, and how the harsh reality set in. He thinks about watching her love for the world wither away. He has no love to offer the world, but she did. And Norma still does.

Speaking of, he wonders what she 's doing now. Last night
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Like they were calling to verify what they heard was or wasn 't true, their congratulations was more of an afterthought. Everyone 's is so nosy and it makes him laugh.

That 's pretty much how he spends his day. Besides getting married, a few work-related phone calls, and calling in a favor to friend to fill the pit in front of Norma 's house, his day is rather uneventful.

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When he gets to her house and starts hanging his clothes in the closet is when it really starts to hit him, that he 's married. Not that married couples sleep in different rooms, but as he 's organizing the closet to does he realize that, holy shit, he 's really doing this. They 're really doing this.

He looks at his bag and he 's realizes that he packed so quickly he forgot his toothpaste. He rolls his eyes at himself, was he that desperate to get over to her house that he couldn 't even pack his damn things properly?

Apparently.

He 'll just use her toothpaste, that 's not weird. Right?
He walks downstairs and attempts to make small talk with her for about thirty seconds before just cutting to the chase and telling her that he 's taking her out to dinner.
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He knows today wasn 't easy, and yesterday was harder. Tomorrow may be bad, but at least in this moment she 's laughing.

She stumbles out of his car and head for the house. He walks behind her as she clumsily walks the steps until they get to the porch. He holds her waist as she walks the stairs in the house, laughing with her. It 's odd and intimate and unnecessary because she probably could have done it, but any excuse to touch is wife at this point honestly.

He also doesn 't need to come to her room, but he does. He sits on the edge of her bed and she reaches out, her hand landing on his forearm. Her hair is a bit disheveled, and her eyes are watery from all the laughter, and it 's the most vulnerable he 's ever seen her. Only a few weeks ago it was him in this position. Drunkenly holding her hand and telling her she 's beautiful as she sat where he is now. He feels this third wave of emotion coming, he 's happy she 's happy. He gives her one last smile before getting up.

She 's not thrilled that he 's getting up to leave to go to bed, further cementing the fact that if he stayed in her room longer, they would have gotten closer. Much closer, and not for the sake of "making it look
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