Audrey Rose - Honeymoon

By: Dagny McKinley

Audrey Rose felt different. Being married changed her somehow. Even though the marriage was for citizenship, there was something comforting about a three year commitment of friendship. They had spent the night of their wedding getting Audrey Rose set up in Mitch’s closet. He offered her an air mattress, but Audrey Rose declined, preferring to sleep on the hardness of the floor. Audrey Rose brought her blankets that still smelled like Joe’s house. As she laid them out, there was a tinge of sadness, knowing she would not hear his breathing in the night, or be able to crawl under the covers with him and lie on his feet. Now she had new feet to lie on, curious to hear their tales. As a wedding present, Joe had bought her a chenille blanket, deep red, that felt like pussy willow against her skin. Audrey Rose promised she would sleep naked every night, just to be wrapped in gentleness.

The lights in Mitch’s closet were cfls. When Audrey Rose flipped the switch, the soft light seemed too dim, but gradually brightened, her own private sunshine. Mitch’s closet was filled with button down shirts, pants folded on shelves, no disarray. Audrey Rose pushed her suitcase into the corner, lining the bottom of the closet with rocks and leaves from her travels. Once her smell was suitably intermingling with Mitch’s Audrey Rose decided to explore the rest of the house.

Mitch had opened a bottle of Pinot Noir and had two glasses set on a marble coffee table. Floor to ceiling windows looked out over the Sanctuary, over light moving from day to night, night to day. Audrey Rose sat with her back to the fireplace, the centerpiece of the room. Tan colored marble tile rose twenty feet high and fifteen feet wide. A remote flipped on the gas fireplace and Audrey Rose curled up next to it.

Mitch handed her a glass of wine. They toasted

“To Mr. and Mrs. Audrey Rose,” said Mitch

They drank in silence before Audrey Rose got up, kissed him on the cheek and disappeared out the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Mitch.

Audrey Rose turned, not used to having to answer to anyone. “To drink the stars.”

“Are you coming back tonight?”

Audrey Rose thought about that for a moment, cocked her head, “I’m sorry, I’m not used to thinking in terms of time. I’ll be back when my feet bring me here. Leave the window cracked for me.”

“I can leave the door unlocked.”

“I don’t like doors,” said Audrey Rose “too many people come in and out of them.”

Audrey Rose walked deep into the woods of the Sanctuary. Traces of pine greeted her nose, filled her lungs. Tennesee Williams filled her mind, Spring Storm,

“Why do you walk off by yourself like this, honey? It looks peculiuh to people…”

“I’d like to follow that river down there – find out where she’s goin.”

Audrey Rose wondered if she’d be following any rivers any time soon. She looked up to the stars, tried to breathe them in but they seemed very far away. Everything suddenly seemed very far away. For the first time in a long time, Audrey Rose didn’t know where to go to silence the voices inside of her. She walked through the night, into the morning, through the rising of the sun, followed the trail of the sun. She passed lakes, climbed over mountains. She ate snow and drank rivers. A lone raven followed her trail, black wings shining in the sun. When the sun went down for the second night, Audrey Rose stopped walking. She had no idea where she was. She waited for the moment the sun slipped beneath the horizon, held her breath and felt her body begin to tingle. She did a merry little jig, dancing, dancing. She was not thirsty, nor hungry. Her feet were happy, her body bounced up and down. Audrey Rose threw off her clothes and let the world wrap around her. In the silence of the night, the raven perched on a tree branch and watched.

-Do not attempt to recreate the events of Audrey Rose’s life. They will result in internal and/or external death or at the very least a yeast infection.