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Bluebirds
There were only a few things Doli generally expected to see on her commute home from work. Dirt. Sparse shrubbery. An empty sky and a harsh sun. The occasional hollowed out shell of an ancient car.
A beautiful blonde white girl hitchhiking down the side of the road wasn't one of them.
Doli slowed down, the rusty piece of crap some might generously refer to as a pickup truck protesting loudly as she downshifted. She squinted through the nicotine haze of her windshield, trying to get a better look.
The girl seemed of a similar age to her own—mid twenties, give or take. Her golden hair hung over her bare shoulders, wavy and full in volume, like the kind you’d see in a shampoo commercial. Her skin was so pale it seemed almost blinding in the desert sun, utterly flawless and perfect. She wore a tanktop and a frame backpack, one left thumb casually held out to the side as she walked along the shoulder of the empty highway.
It seemed like something that should be too good to be true. Was the girl bait, with car thieves lying in wait around the corner? But there wasn’t an underbrush or ditch for anyone to be hiding in. Just the open expanse of nothingness that was northern New Mexico.
Doli pulled to a stop near the girl, then leaned over and rolled down the passenger side window. “Hi.”
The girl turned to her and smiled widely with perfect white teeth. “Hiya!”
Doli blinked, and rubbed at her eyes. Her early assessment of the girl must have just been a projection of her own mind. She was blonde and beautiful, yes, but her hair was tangled and dirty, her skin a golden brown tan from time spent in the sun, and her clothes were smudged with sweat and dust. “Uh, where are you headed?”
“Anywhere you want to take me,” the girl said with a shrug.
A dry wind blew past them, and the truck coughed, spitting out a plume of black smoke from its exhaust pipe. “That's not a very helpful answer.”
“I'm not a very helpful person.”
Doli sighed. “I’m headed home, back to the reservation to drink until I pass out. I don't think you really want to come with me. You'd be better off hitchhiking the other direction.”
The girl giggled, and she took a swig from a water bottle. “That sounds like my kind of party. I mean, if you want some company. It’s always nice to crash somewhere instead of sleeping on the ground.”
This was insane. Who would just let a hitchhiker sleep at their house? Even if they weren’t a serial killer, it seemed like a good way to get robbed. Not that Doli had anything worth stealing. She took a closer look at the girl’s backpack, and realized it included a well worn tent and sleeping bag.
After a long silence, Doli finally mumbled, “How do I know you won’t just stab me or something?”
The girl stretched her arms over her head. “I haven’t stabbed anyone yet. For all the hitchhiking I’ve done, nobody’s tried to stab me yet either, which is pretty cool. And you seem nice enough.”
“You don’t even know my name,” Doli grumbled. Against her better judgement, she leaned over and opened the passenger door.
“Awesome. I’m Brittany!” she said. Her backpack was unstrapped and tossed into the bed of the pickup before she climbed inside.
“Doli,” she said, shaking Brittney’s hand.
The truck stalled out, and it took her several tries to get it started again before she jerked uneasily back onto the road.
“So, are you like, a tourist or something?” Doli asked, turning her head to face the stranger she had just let into her truck. “Because if you are, all the stuff worth looking at is a hundred miles back that way.”
Brittany laughed. “Nah, I’ve already seen the cool shit. I meant what I said earlier. I just ride with people as far as they’re willing to take me. Mostly it just involves bouncing back and forth around the southwest. Kind of getting tired of the desert though."
Doli opened her mouth to respond, then swore as she hit a pothole and the truck lurched.
“Ow, fuck!” Brittany screamed. She rubbed at her back and turned around to glare at the seat. “Is this seat made of knives or something?”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Doli mumbled. “There’s some wires poking through the fabric there. I should put some duct tape over them or something, but nobody rides with me anyway so I always forget.”
Brittany grinned. She dug around her feet until she found a oil stained rag, then stuffed it in between the small of her back and the seat. “That should do the trick. Nothing quite like a junker, eh?”
“Don’t have much of a choice but to keep her running.” Doli glanced over at Brittany, and caught the girl's eyes. They were a vibrant blue that demanded further inspection. Doli looked down instead, and caught an eyeful of full and tanned cleavage.
“Like what you see?” Brittany asked, her tone sultry.
Before Doli could stutter an apology, Brittany laughed and leaned forward, pulling her shirt down partially and spreading her breasts apart. A small tattoo of a bluebird rested on her chest right in the center. “I’m pretty proud of it.
Doli kept her eyes on the road and muttered something noncommittal.
They drove in silence for a time, before Brittany spoke up again. “Hey, thanks a bunch for actually picking me up. And if you really mean to let me stay with you for a night, thanks even more, but if not, it’s okay. I can always find my own way.”
Doli had absolutely no idea what she was doing. It went against every shred of common sense she had learned. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t pick up hitchhikers. Don’t let strange white people into your home.
Her Grandpa probably would’ve helped her though.
“It’s no problem,” Doli muttered. “Just pay it forward. Or I think that’s what you’re supposed to say.”
“I do my best,” Brittany said with a wide smile. “Your hair is really pretty by the way.”
Doli blinked, and glanced into her rear view mirror. Her reflection stared back, with its glossy straight black hair, high cheekbones, and rough tanned skin. The sad ensemble was perfectly complimented by her unflattering polo with the Qwik Stop logo stitched into it. “I look just like any other native girl my age. It’s nothing special.”
Brittany shook her head. “Nope. You look like you, and personally, I think it’s a good look.”
“I… thanks.” Doli bit her lip, and found herself blushing. She found herself mentally cursing the awkward slur in her own accented english, compared to the perfect diction of this girl who could have stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.
An awkward silence fell over them for about a mile, the wind whipping through the open windows of the truck. Doli dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Hey, there’s a lighter in the glove box, could you grab it for me?”
“Sure.” Brittany found it quickly, then held out the flame.
Doli welcomed the warm comfort of the smoke in her lungs, and she blew it out the window. She slowed down, pulling onto the rough unmarked dirt road that would take her home. “Want one?”
Brittany picked up one of the cigarettes and twisted it about in her fingers, eying it askance. She shrugged, lit it up, and took a long drag, only to immediately start coughing her lungs out.
“Are you okay? I… have you never smoked before?”
“What, noo,” Brittany said in between coughs. She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m totally just like all the other cool kids, see?”
Doli blinked, and she almost started to crack a smile, but a sudden realization send a chill down her spine and her heart started to race. “Cool kids? You’re not like, sixteen, are you?”
“No, I…” Brittany coughed some more, cleared her throat a few times, and drank from her water bottle. “I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted, but no. I’m twenty four.”
Doli pursed her lips.
“What, do you need to see my ID?” She raised an eyebrow, then grinned. “Or maybe you’d prefer to count my rings?”
Doli did burst out laughing then.
Brittany laughed along with her. “You’ve got a great smile. I bet not many people get to see it, huh?”
The words cut deep, and Doli felt her smile falter. When was the last time she’d actually laughed at something? With a grunt, she turned the truck off the road, and pulled up to her trailer, her quaint little home nestled in the shade of a nearby plateau. “Well, we’re here. I hope you weren’t expecting five stars.”
“If you’ve got a shower, it might as well be the nicest hotel in Paris for all I care.” Brittany opened the door and swung down from the truck, then took a moment to stretch. “You live alone?”
“Yeah.” Doli glanced over at her mailbox, which was stuffed full of spam and unpaid bills, but she wasn’t going to sort through those while she had a guest. Crap, she had a guest. “I, uh, it might be a bit messy. Also, there’s barely any hot water.”
“Crap. Well, a shower is a shower.”
Doli grabbed her bag of groceries from the bed of the pickup truck, then led the way. She unlocked the front door and opened it. Her home didn’t really seem presentable, but she supposed it wasn’t a sty or anything. Just a few dirty dishes in the sink, and a pile of laundry in one corner of her room. She tried to keep it clean.
“Very roomy,” Brittany said, placing her own bag on the table. She peered around the cramped quarters as if she was looking for something, then frowned. “Aww, you really do live alone. I was hoping you had a cat or something.”
“Had one when I was a kid, but it ran off,” Doli said. She began taking out her groceries and putting them away in her kitchen cabinets. She left the recently purchased bottle of rum on the table. “Never gave it much thought after that. Cat food is expensive.”
“I kind of hate owning them, but I love playing with other people's animals.” Brittany dug through her backpack until she pulled out a small clear plastic bag filled with toiletries. “So, that shower?”
Doli pointed down the narrow hallway. “Help yourself. There should be clean towels in the cabinet there.
“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver.” Brittany quickly disappeared behind the thin wooden door. The sound of running water echoed through the trailer.
With a sigh, Doli pulled out a glass, added a handful of ice cubes, and poured herself some rum. She sat down at the kitchen table, the rough metal legs of the chair scratching the dirty linoleum beneath it. The drink burned pleasantly, a familiar warmth that helped melt away the mind numbing drudgery.
She was entirely too dependent on the stuff, but she didn’t particularly care.
Or at least, she normally didn’t. For all the empty monotony that was her life, something special seemed to be happening. Or maybe it was something insane and dangerous. Was her loneliness overriding her judgement that thoroughly? Either way, the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen was currently naked in her house just a few feet away. It was a rather sobering thought.
Which was just something she’d have to fix.
Her eyes tracked up to the wall, where a picture hung, the kindly face of her grandfather with his hand on her shoulder as the little ten year old Doli held up the fish she had caught.
‘Little Bluebird’, he’d always called her. Hadn’t there been something in some old Navajo legend about bluebirds? Some sort of correlation with happiness? Or maybe that had just been some old movie.
By the time Brittany came out of the shower, having thrown on a loose t-shirt and some pajama pants, Doli had already finished half of her glass.
Brittany scrunched her nose up at Doli’s drink. “Just straight rum, huh? You got any cola?”
Doli shrugged. “Might be some in the fridge.”
“Cool.” Brittany found the mixer in question, then set about making herself a drink with a little less bite than something straight out of the bottle.
They both drank in silence for a few minutes. Doli stared into her glass, swirling the rum around her ice cubes, and finally spoke up. “So, why are you really here? Nobody just hitchhikes around for fun. It’s too dangerous.”
Brittany tapped her fingers on the table. Her nails had been painted pink at some point, but the polish was faded and chipped. “I do. And I’ve had some great experiences, and met a lot of cool people. Like you. But you’re also right, I’ve had some close calls. But I’m not dead yet.”
“But why?” Doli struggled to find her words and she fidgeted in her chair. She waved her hand vaguely at Brittany. “You’re just so…”
“Blonde?” Brittany asked, her tone bitter. “Beautiful, sexy, drop dead gorgeous, full of potential with bright career prospects and her whole life ahead of her? Well, it’s all true. Or it was a least once. And probably could be again if I really wanted.”
Doli bit her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Brittany shook her head, then took a long draw from her glass. “It’s fine. It’s my own shit after all, I’m the one who has to carry it around. I mean, if you really want to know what’s up, I’ll share but it’ll cost you.”
“Cost me?” Doli narrowed her eyes.
“Yep!” Brittany laughed. She grabbed the bottle of rum, topped off her mixed drink, then stood up and crossed the divider between the kitchen and Doli’s room. She promptly sat down on Doli’s bed and stuck out her tongue. “You want my story, I get the bed. That couch of yours looks worse than the seat in your truck.”
Doli glanced over at the ratty piece of so-called furniture and sighed. “I’ve got a cot stashed around here somewhere. Haven’t used it in years, but should still be functional.”
“Hmm. Good counter offer, but…” Brittany pressed her hands against the mattress, testing it. “This isn’t half bad. Not too small either. If you want we could share, I don’t mind.”
“Whatever. Do what you want,” Doli mumbled. She tried to hide her blush behind her drink, but the way Brittany was giggling suggested that it wasn’t working.
“Great!” Brittany set her drink aside on the nearby end table and spread out on the bed, her blonde locks still damp from the shower. “Let’s see, where to start… I mean, I guess I had a pretty perfect life. Loving parents. Loyal friends. A few relationships, though nothing serious. Got pretty solid grades in college. Had an internship that transitioned to a well paying job right away.”
Doli made her way into the bedroom as well, and sat down on her couch, avoiding the uncomfortable parts. She stayed silent, waiting for Brittany to continue.
Brittany glanced up at her and sighed. “If you’re expecting some sort of horrible tragedy at this point, you're wrong. Saying this all out loud makes me sound like a selfish, entitled, insane idiot, and that’s probably true. I spent two years in that company in an office job, filling out paperwork, managing spreadsheets, correcting errors in the formatting of official reports. It was menial, but there was a little bit of challenge to it, at least.”
“You should try working in the same gas station for seven years.” Doli took another drink, then realized it was almost empty and the bottle was all the way on the kitchen table.
“Had a similar job in High School, but you’re right. I sound petty. But I dunno. It started to get to me over time. I became pretty disgusted with the idea that I’d have to spend forty hours a week doing this for the rest of my life. I mean, there’s other jobs, but work will always be work. A girl like me could probably find a partner willing to take care of me, but it didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right.”
“It’s not something we really have around here, but isn’t that the point where you’re supposed to go to therapy or whatever?” Doli asked.
“That would’ve been the smart thing to do. The sane thing to do.” Brittany sat up. She tried to grin, but it was weak. “I snapped I guess. I was ready to put a bullet in my brain, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. So I ran instead. Just went outside and started walking. Someone picked me up and carried me with them out of California, and I’ve just been kind of bouncing around ever since. My luck won’t last forever, and I’ll probably be killed by something or another one of these days, but I think this is a funner way of doing it.”
Doli stared. This girl really was crazy. But what she was talking about… she could relate. Even if their base situations were miles apart. She medicated her empty life by drinking alone, and it wasn’t like she could claim the moral high ground on coping mechanisms.
“Sorry,” Brittany mumbled. She tightened her fists around the bedsheets, staring at the floor. “I’m not even a very authentic hobo. I check in with my parents occasionally, and have a credit card to their account I can use for emergencies. Everyone is always super sweet and nice to me and doesn’t think I’m a threat because I’m just a pretty blonde white girl. But as you can see, I’m a total lunatic. If that weirds you out, I’ll go, it’s okay.”
Alcohol burned in Doli’s veins, and she found herself crossing the small space from the couch to the bed. She sat down next to Brittany, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s fine. Everyone’s got their own brand of crazy.”
Brittany barked a short laugh, then rested her head on Doli’s shoulder. “I knew there something special about you, Doli.” She looked up and their eyes met, and she smiled. “Well, you’ve heard my pathetic excuse for a sob story. What about you? What’s your brand?”
Doli looked away, struggling to pull herself from the blue abyss of her gaze. “Captain Morgan,” she muttered. “I don’t know. There’s not much to say.”
“Come on. Quid pro quo, right?”
Doli sighed. “Mom and dad died in a car accident before I could remember. Grandpa raised me. He was a good man. Tried to teach me a bunch about Navajo traditions and history, but I barely listened. This was his trailer, and his truck outside. He passed a few years ago. After that it’s just me. Life keeps going, even if there’s nothing in it.”
Brittany nodded, then grinned. She licked her lips, and leaned in close. “Thanks for telling me. So, when did you figure out you were gay?”
“I—”
Brittany pressed her lips against Doli’s. Her breath was heavy with alcohol and a hint of that cigarette she had tried earlier.
Doli melted into the kiss, pulling Brittany even closer against her, whatever reservations and inhibitions she had fading away in the moment.
After maybe a minute of passion Doli pulled back, panting.
Brittany had a wide grin on her face. “Well?”
“Figured it out during gym class back in highschool,” Doli muttered. Her head swam a little from the booze, but she suspected it had more to do with euphoria.
“Ever been with a girl before?”
“One. Had a brief thing maybe six years ago. She was half white though, and ended up going to college.”
Brittany nodded, and flashed her perfect teeth. “Guess I’m your type then, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Doli growled, then dove into another kiss.
Chill nighttime air drifted in through the open windows of the trailer, and the two lovers snuggled up together under the covers.
Doli ground out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray, and sighed. She felt alive, more so than she had in months, maybe years. The term ‘mind blowing sex’ had always seemed like an over exaggeration, but now...
Brittany let out a soft contented sigh, resting her head on Doli’s chest. “That was fun. You’re a lot of fun.”
“I could get used to that,” Doli said, chuckling.
“I know, right?” Brittany met her eyes and smiled. “You should come with me.”
Doli blinked, and she felt a knot grow in the pit of her stomach. “I said we’re all our own brand of crazy, and that’s not mine. If I’m going to be aimless in the desert, I’ll do it from my comfort of my trailer.”
Brittany bit her lip, the blue of her eyes standing out in the moonlit darkness. “It doesn’t have to be the desert. I’m tired of all this dirt anyway. I wanna go somewhere green. Up north, to Washington, or maybe even Canada.”
This was just a brief moment of happiness in an otherwise bleak existence. She could enjoy what little time there was to have with this strange traveler but she couldn’t let herself dream of anything greater. “What would you even do up there?”
“Find a forest,” Brittany said, her eyes glinting. “One of those big ones, with nobody around. Get as far away from civilization as you can, set up camp, and just live off the land. I went camping a bunch as a kid, and watched a bunch of those survival reality shows. It can’t be that hard.”
Doli rolled her eyes. “That’s suicidal. Sounds like a good way to starve to death, or get some intestinal parasite, or get eaten by a bear or break your leg with nobody around to help you. Or freeze to death when winter rolls around.”
“And you could roll your truck driving to work on Monday, or get shot in a gas station robbery.” Brittany crossed her arms over her chest and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “We could just migrate back south when winter comes, or tough it out. Did you ever learn to hunt or fish?"
“My grandfather taught me what he could, but…” Doli shook her head and sighed. She did her best to smile, and placed a hand on Brittany’s hip. “Look, Brittany, I know you’re looking to… well, to die. And I know I don’t have anything going on in my own life, but I’m not ready to end it all just yet.”
“I don’t want to die,” Brittany muttered, a strained edge to her voice. “We all die someday, and there’s nothing we can do about it. I just want to… to live differently. It’s been fun so far, but I think I’d like it a lot more with someone like you by my side. It doesn’t have to be a permanent thing. You want to bail a week into it, you can bail. I have the card for emergencies. Please?”
Doli closed her eyes. What would it really mean, to just pack up and leave everything behind? She’d lose her job, for starters. She hated her manager, her coworkers, and all the customers. They’d be glad to be rid of her. Nobody would miss her. Her grandfather’s trailer would sit here, unmaintained, just another rusted out heap in this dusty shithole. Maybe someone would eventually wander by and loot what little valuable there was.
She opened her mouth, and her heart raced. She wasn’t seriously considering this, was she? It was insane. There wasn’t a place for her out there, especially not at the side of some crazy and fickle lilly white girl that she barely knew who already had a habit of running away. She belonged here, with her people, slowly dying like the rest of them. She didn’t deserve anything better than a failed liver by the time she was forty.
“It’ll be fun,” Brittany whispered, a desperate pleading in her eyes.
“I…” Doli squeezed her eyes shut, flinching against her gaze and looked away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I see.”
The two of them sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, only the sounds of the rustling wind and nighttime insects filtering in from outside.
As Doli started to doze off, she heard Brittany sigh, then giggle.
“Sorry for getting all maudlin there,” Brittany said with a grin, then she propped herself up over Doli. “No fun in that. You up for round two?”
Doli was about to object—the mood seemed shattered at this point—but then soft fingers on her thigh sent shivers up her spine and she reconsidered quite thoroughly.
Doli woke up to an empty bed.
The trailer wasn’t particularly big, so it didn’t take long to figure out that Brittany had left entirely, and wasn’t just in the shower again.
The note left for her on the table only confirmed it.
Dear Doli,
Thanks a lot for letting me stay with you last night. And for the waffle I stole from your freezer. And for the amazing sex. <3 There’s something to be said about a human connection like that, even if it’s brief.
I don’t know what I’m looking for out of my life. I’m mostly just selfishly running away. I’ve accepted that, but I don’t blame you for not following my whims. I hope I find what I’m looking for someday. And I hope you do as well. We’ll probably never see each other again, but I’ll never forget last night.
-Find happiness.
Rather than a signature, Brittany had drawn a little bluebird in the bottom right corner.
Doli stared at the note, re-reading it over and over. Finally, she crumpled it up and stuffed it into her pocket. She turned to the photograph of her grandfather then closed her eyes, remembering his smile, his warmth. She took the picture frame off the wall, then began to pack.
Her mind was made up.
It didn’t take long for Doli to catch up. Brittany was on foot, after all.
Her truck sputtered to a stop next to the most beautiful girl Doli had ever seen, and she leaned over to roll down the window. “Hi.”
Brittany turned and smiled with perfect white teeth. “Hiya!”
“Where you headed?”
“Anywhere you want to take me.”
A beautiful blonde white girl hitchhiking down the side of the road wasn't one of them.
Doli slowed down, the rusty piece of crap some might generously refer to as a pickup truck protesting loudly as she downshifted. She squinted through the nicotine haze of her windshield, trying to get a better look.
The girl seemed of a similar age to her own—mid twenties, give or take. Her golden hair hung over her bare shoulders, wavy and full in volume, like the kind you’d see in a shampoo commercial. Her skin was so pale it seemed almost blinding in the desert sun, utterly flawless and perfect. She wore a tanktop and a frame backpack, one left thumb casually held out to the side as she walked along the shoulder of the empty highway.
It seemed like something that should be too good to be true. Was the girl bait, with car thieves lying in wait around the corner? But there wasn’t an underbrush or ditch for anyone to be hiding in. Just the open expanse of nothingness that was northern New Mexico.
Doli pulled to a stop near the girl, then leaned over and rolled down the passenger side window. “Hi.”
The girl turned to her and smiled widely with perfect white teeth. “Hiya!”
Doli blinked, and rubbed at her eyes. Her early assessment of the girl must have just been a projection of her own mind. She was blonde and beautiful, yes, but her hair was tangled and dirty, her skin a golden brown tan from time spent in the sun, and her clothes were smudged with sweat and dust. “Uh, where are you headed?”
“Anywhere you want to take me,” the girl said with a shrug.
A dry wind blew past them, and the truck coughed, spitting out a plume of black smoke from its exhaust pipe. “That's not a very helpful answer.”
“I'm not a very helpful person.”
Doli sighed. “I’m headed home, back to the reservation to drink until I pass out. I don't think you really want to come with me. You'd be better off hitchhiking the other direction.”
The girl giggled, and she took a swig from a water bottle. “That sounds like my kind of party. I mean, if you want some company. It’s always nice to crash somewhere instead of sleeping on the ground.”
This was insane. Who would just let a hitchhiker sleep at their house? Even if they weren’t a serial killer, it seemed like a good way to get robbed. Not that Doli had anything worth stealing. She took a closer look at the girl’s backpack, and realized it included a well worn tent and sleeping bag.
After a long silence, Doli finally mumbled, “How do I know you won’t just stab me or something?”
The girl stretched her arms over her head. “I haven’t stabbed anyone yet. For all the hitchhiking I’ve done, nobody’s tried to stab me yet either, which is pretty cool. And you seem nice enough.”
“You don’t even know my name,” Doli grumbled. Against her better judgement, she leaned over and opened the passenger door.
“Awesome. I’m Brittany!” she said. Her backpack was unstrapped and tossed into the bed of the pickup before she climbed inside.
“Doli,” she said, shaking Brittney’s hand.
The truck stalled out, and it took her several tries to get it started again before she jerked uneasily back onto the road.
“So, are you like, a tourist or something?” Doli asked, turning her head to face the stranger she had just let into her truck. “Because if you are, all the stuff worth looking at is a hundred miles back that way.”
Brittany laughed. “Nah, I’ve already seen the cool shit. I meant what I said earlier. I just ride with people as far as they’re willing to take me. Mostly it just involves bouncing back and forth around the southwest. Kind of getting tired of the desert though."
Doli opened her mouth to respond, then swore as she hit a pothole and the truck lurched.
“Ow, fuck!” Brittany screamed. She rubbed at her back and turned around to glare at the seat. “Is this seat made of knives or something?”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Doli mumbled. “There’s some wires poking through the fabric there. I should put some duct tape over them or something, but nobody rides with me anyway so I always forget.”
Brittany grinned. She dug around her feet until she found a oil stained rag, then stuffed it in between the small of her back and the seat. “That should do the trick. Nothing quite like a junker, eh?”
“Don’t have much of a choice but to keep her running.” Doli glanced over at Brittany, and caught the girl's eyes. They were a vibrant blue that demanded further inspection. Doli looked down instead, and caught an eyeful of full and tanned cleavage.
“Like what you see?” Brittany asked, her tone sultry.
Before Doli could stutter an apology, Brittany laughed and leaned forward, pulling her shirt down partially and spreading her breasts apart. A small tattoo of a bluebird rested on her chest right in the center. “I’m pretty proud of it.
Doli kept her eyes on the road and muttered something noncommittal.
They drove in silence for a time, before Brittany spoke up again. “Hey, thanks a bunch for actually picking me up. And if you really mean to let me stay with you for a night, thanks even more, but if not, it’s okay. I can always find my own way.”
Doli had absolutely no idea what she was doing. It went against every shred of common sense she had learned. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t pick up hitchhikers. Don’t let strange white people into your home.
Her Grandpa probably would’ve helped her though.
“It’s no problem,” Doli muttered. “Just pay it forward. Or I think that’s what you’re supposed to say.”
“I do my best,” Brittany said with a wide smile. “Your hair is really pretty by the way.”
Doli blinked, and glanced into her rear view mirror. Her reflection stared back, with its glossy straight black hair, high cheekbones, and rough tanned skin. The sad ensemble was perfectly complimented by her unflattering polo with the Qwik Stop logo stitched into it. “I look just like any other native girl my age. It’s nothing special.”
Brittany shook her head. “Nope. You look like you, and personally, I think it’s a good look.”
“I… thanks.” Doli bit her lip, and found herself blushing. She found herself mentally cursing the awkward slur in her own accented english, compared to the perfect diction of this girl who could have stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.
An awkward silence fell over them for about a mile, the wind whipping through the open windows of the truck. Doli dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Hey, there’s a lighter in the glove box, could you grab it for me?”
“Sure.” Brittany found it quickly, then held out the flame.
Doli welcomed the warm comfort of the smoke in her lungs, and she blew it out the window. She slowed down, pulling onto the rough unmarked dirt road that would take her home. “Want one?”
Brittany picked up one of the cigarettes and twisted it about in her fingers, eying it askance. She shrugged, lit it up, and took a long drag, only to immediately start coughing her lungs out.
“Are you okay? I… have you never smoked before?”
“What, noo,” Brittany said in between coughs. She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m totally just like all the other cool kids, see?”
Doli blinked, and she almost started to crack a smile, but a sudden realization send a chill down her spine and her heart started to race. “Cool kids? You’re not like, sixteen, are you?”
“No, I…” Brittany coughed some more, cleared her throat a few times, and drank from her water bottle. “I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted, but no. I’m twenty four.”
Doli pursed her lips.
“What, do you need to see my ID?” She raised an eyebrow, then grinned. “Or maybe you’d prefer to count my rings?”
Doli did burst out laughing then.
Brittany laughed along with her. “You’ve got a great smile. I bet not many people get to see it, huh?”
The words cut deep, and Doli felt her smile falter. When was the last time she’d actually laughed at something? With a grunt, she turned the truck off the road, and pulled up to her trailer, her quaint little home nestled in the shade of a nearby plateau. “Well, we’re here. I hope you weren’t expecting five stars.”
“If you’ve got a shower, it might as well be the nicest hotel in Paris for all I care.” Brittany opened the door and swung down from the truck, then took a moment to stretch. “You live alone?”
“Yeah.” Doli glanced over at her mailbox, which was stuffed full of spam and unpaid bills, but she wasn’t going to sort through those while she had a guest. Crap, she had a guest. “I, uh, it might be a bit messy. Also, there’s barely any hot water.”
“Crap. Well, a shower is a shower.”
Doli grabbed her bag of groceries from the bed of the pickup truck, then led the way. She unlocked the front door and opened it. Her home didn’t really seem presentable, but she supposed it wasn’t a sty or anything. Just a few dirty dishes in the sink, and a pile of laundry in one corner of her room. She tried to keep it clean.
“Very roomy,” Brittany said, placing her own bag on the table. She peered around the cramped quarters as if she was looking for something, then frowned. “Aww, you really do live alone. I was hoping you had a cat or something.”
“Had one when I was a kid, but it ran off,” Doli said. She began taking out her groceries and putting them away in her kitchen cabinets. She left the recently purchased bottle of rum on the table. “Never gave it much thought after that. Cat food is expensive.”
“I kind of hate owning them, but I love playing with other people's animals.” Brittany dug through her backpack until she pulled out a small clear plastic bag filled with toiletries. “So, that shower?”
Doli pointed down the narrow hallway. “Help yourself. There should be clean towels in the cabinet there.
“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver.” Brittany quickly disappeared behind the thin wooden door. The sound of running water echoed through the trailer.
With a sigh, Doli pulled out a glass, added a handful of ice cubes, and poured herself some rum. She sat down at the kitchen table, the rough metal legs of the chair scratching the dirty linoleum beneath it. The drink burned pleasantly, a familiar warmth that helped melt away the mind numbing drudgery.
She was entirely too dependent on the stuff, but she didn’t particularly care.
Or at least, she normally didn’t. For all the empty monotony that was her life, something special seemed to be happening. Or maybe it was something insane and dangerous. Was her loneliness overriding her judgement that thoroughly? Either way, the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen was currently naked in her house just a few feet away. It was a rather sobering thought.
Which was just something she’d have to fix.
Her eyes tracked up to the wall, where a picture hung, the kindly face of her grandfather with his hand on her shoulder as the little ten year old Doli held up the fish she had caught.
‘Little Bluebird’, he’d always called her. Hadn’t there been something in some old Navajo legend about bluebirds? Some sort of correlation with happiness? Or maybe that had just been some old movie.
By the time Brittany came out of the shower, having thrown on a loose t-shirt and some pajama pants, Doli had already finished half of her glass.
Brittany scrunched her nose up at Doli’s drink. “Just straight rum, huh? You got any cola?”
Doli shrugged. “Might be some in the fridge.”
“Cool.” Brittany found the mixer in question, then set about making herself a drink with a little less bite than something straight out of the bottle.
They both drank in silence for a few minutes. Doli stared into her glass, swirling the rum around her ice cubes, and finally spoke up. “So, why are you really here? Nobody just hitchhikes around for fun. It’s too dangerous.”
Brittany tapped her fingers on the table. Her nails had been painted pink at some point, but the polish was faded and chipped. “I do. And I’ve had some great experiences, and met a lot of cool people. Like you. But you’re also right, I’ve had some close calls. But I’m not dead yet.”
“But why?” Doli struggled to find her words and she fidgeted in her chair. She waved her hand vaguely at Brittany. “You’re just so…”
“Blonde?” Brittany asked, her tone bitter. “Beautiful, sexy, drop dead gorgeous, full of potential with bright career prospects and her whole life ahead of her? Well, it’s all true. Or it was a least once. And probably could be again if I really wanted.”
Doli bit her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Brittany shook her head, then took a long draw from her glass. “It’s fine. It’s my own shit after all, I’m the one who has to carry it around. I mean, if you really want to know what’s up, I’ll share but it’ll cost you.”
“Cost me?” Doli narrowed her eyes.
“Yep!” Brittany laughed. She grabbed the bottle of rum, topped off her mixed drink, then stood up and crossed the divider between the kitchen and Doli’s room. She promptly sat down on Doli’s bed and stuck out her tongue. “You want my story, I get the bed. That couch of yours looks worse than the seat in your truck.”
Doli glanced over at the ratty piece of so-called furniture and sighed. “I’ve got a cot stashed around here somewhere. Haven’t used it in years, but should still be functional.”
“Hmm. Good counter offer, but…” Brittany pressed her hands against the mattress, testing it. “This isn’t half bad. Not too small either. If you want we could share, I don’t mind.”
“Whatever. Do what you want,” Doli mumbled. She tried to hide her blush behind her drink, but the way Brittany was giggling suggested that it wasn’t working.
“Great!” Brittany set her drink aside on the nearby end table and spread out on the bed, her blonde locks still damp from the shower. “Let’s see, where to start… I mean, I guess I had a pretty perfect life. Loving parents. Loyal friends. A few relationships, though nothing serious. Got pretty solid grades in college. Had an internship that transitioned to a well paying job right away.”
Doli made her way into the bedroom as well, and sat down on her couch, avoiding the uncomfortable parts. She stayed silent, waiting for Brittany to continue.
Brittany glanced up at her and sighed. “If you’re expecting some sort of horrible tragedy at this point, you're wrong. Saying this all out loud makes me sound like a selfish, entitled, insane idiot, and that’s probably true. I spent two years in that company in an office job, filling out paperwork, managing spreadsheets, correcting errors in the formatting of official reports. It was menial, but there was a little bit of challenge to it, at least.”
“You should try working in the same gas station for seven years.” Doli took another drink, then realized it was almost empty and the bottle was all the way on the kitchen table.
“Had a similar job in High School, but you’re right. I sound petty. But I dunno. It started to get to me over time. I became pretty disgusted with the idea that I’d have to spend forty hours a week doing this for the rest of my life. I mean, there’s other jobs, but work will always be work. A girl like me could probably find a partner willing to take care of me, but it didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right.”
“It’s not something we really have around here, but isn’t that the point where you’re supposed to go to therapy or whatever?” Doli asked.
“That would’ve been the smart thing to do. The sane thing to do.” Brittany sat up. She tried to grin, but it was weak. “I snapped I guess. I was ready to put a bullet in my brain, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. So I ran instead. Just went outside and started walking. Someone picked me up and carried me with them out of California, and I’ve just been kind of bouncing around ever since. My luck won’t last forever, and I’ll probably be killed by something or another one of these days, but I think this is a funner way of doing it.”
Doli stared. This girl really was crazy. But what she was talking about… she could relate. Even if their base situations were miles apart. She medicated her empty life by drinking alone, and it wasn’t like she could claim the moral high ground on coping mechanisms.
“Sorry,” Brittany mumbled. She tightened her fists around the bedsheets, staring at the floor. “I’m not even a very authentic hobo. I check in with my parents occasionally, and have a credit card to their account I can use for emergencies. Everyone is always super sweet and nice to me and doesn’t think I’m a threat because I’m just a pretty blonde white girl. But as you can see, I’m a total lunatic. If that weirds you out, I’ll go, it’s okay.”
Alcohol burned in Doli’s veins, and she found herself crossing the small space from the couch to the bed. She sat down next to Brittany, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s fine. Everyone’s got their own brand of crazy.”
Brittany barked a short laugh, then rested her head on Doli’s shoulder. “I knew there something special about you, Doli.” She looked up and their eyes met, and she smiled. “Well, you’ve heard my pathetic excuse for a sob story. What about you? What’s your brand?”
Doli looked away, struggling to pull herself from the blue abyss of her gaze. “Captain Morgan,” she muttered. “I don’t know. There’s not much to say.”
“Come on. Quid pro quo, right?”
Doli sighed. “Mom and dad died in a car accident before I could remember. Grandpa raised me. He was a good man. Tried to teach me a bunch about Navajo traditions and history, but I barely listened. This was his trailer, and his truck outside. He passed a few years ago. After that it’s just me. Life keeps going, even if there’s nothing in it.”
Brittany nodded, then grinned. She licked her lips, and leaned in close. “Thanks for telling me. So, when did you figure out you were gay?”
“I—”
Brittany pressed her lips against Doli’s. Her breath was heavy with alcohol and a hint of that cigarette she had tried earlier.
Doli melted into the kiss, pulling Brittany even closer against her, whatever reservations and inhibitions she had fading away in the moment.
After maybe a minute of passion Doli pulled back, panting.
Brittany had a wide grin on her face. “Well?”
“Figured it out during gym class back in highschool,” Doli muttered. Her head swam a little from the booze, but she suspected it had more to do with euphoria.
“Ever been with a girl before?”
“One. Had a brief thing maybe six years ago. She was half white though, and ended up going to college.”
Brittany nodded, and flashed her perfect teeth. “Guess I’m your type then, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Doli growled, then dove into another kiss.
Chill nighttime air drifted in through the open windows of the trailer, and the two lovers snuggled up together under the covers.
Doli ground out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray, and sighed. She felt alive, more so than she had in months, maybe years. The term ‘mind blowing sex’ had always seemed like an over exaggeration, but now...
Brittany let out a soft contented sigh, resting her head on Doli’s chest. “That was fun. You’re a lot of fun.”
“I could get used to that,” Doli said, chuckling.
“I know, right?” Brittany met her eyes and smiled. “You should come with me.”
Doli blinked, and she felt a knot grow in the pit of her stomach. “I said we’re all our own brand of crazy, and that’s not mine. If I’m going to be aimless in the desert, I’ll do it from my comfort of my trailer.”
Brittany bit her lip, the blue of her eyes standing out in the moonlit darkness. “It doesn’t have to be the desert. I’m tired of all this dirt anyway. I wanna go somewhere green. Up north, to Washington, or maybe even Canada.”
This was just a brief moment of happiness in an otherwise bleak existence. She could enjoy what little time there was to have with this strange traveler but she couldn’t let herself dream of anything greater. “What would you even do up there?”
“Find a forest,” Brittany said, her eyes glinting. “One of those big ones, with nobody around. Get as far away from civilization as you can, set up camp, and just live off the land. I went camping a bunch as a kid, and watched a bunch of those survival reality shows. It can’t be that hard.”
Doli rolled her eyes. “That’s suicidal. Sounds like a good way to starve to death, or get some intestinal parasite, or get eaten by a bear or break your leg with nobody around to help you. Or freeze to death when winter rolls around.”
“And you could roll your truck driving to work on Monday, or get shot in a gas station robbery.” Brittany crossed her arms over her chest and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “We could just migrate back south when winter comes, or tough it out. Did you ever learn to hunt or fish?"
“My grandfather taught me what he could, but…” Doli shook her head and sighed. She did her best to smile, and placed a hand on Brittany’s hip. “Look, Brittany, I know you’re looking to… well, to die. And I know I don’t have anything going on in my own life, but I’m not ready to end it all just yet.”
“I don’t want to die,” Brittany muttered, a strained edge to her voice. “We all die someday, and there’s nothing we can do about it. I just want to… to live differently. It’s been fun so far, but I think I’d like it a lot more with someone like you by my side. It doesn’t have to be a permanent thing. You want to bail a week into it, you can bail. I have the card for emergencies. Please?”
Doli closed her eyes. What would it really mean, to just pack up and leave everything behind? She’d lose her job, for starters. She hated her manager, her coworkers, and all the customers. They’d be glad to be rid of her. Nobody would miss her. Her grandfather’s trailer would sit here, unmaintained, just another rusted out heap in this dusty shithole. Maybe someone would eventually wander by and loot what little valuable there was.
She opened her mouth, and her heart raced. She wasn’t seriously considering this, was she? It was insane. There wasn’t a place for her out there, especially not at the side of some crazy and fickle lilly white girl that she barely knew who already had a habit of running away. She belonged here, with her people, slowly dying like the rest of them. She didn’t deserve anything better than a failed liver by the time she was forty.
“It’ll be fun,” Brittany whispered, a desperate pleading in her eyes.
“I…” Doli squeezed her eyes shut, flinching against her gaze and looked away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I see.”
The two of them sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, only the sounds of the rustling wind and nighttime insects filtering in from outside.
As Doli started to doze off, she heard Brittany sigh, then giggle.
“Sorry for getting all maudlin there,” Brittany said with a grin, then she propped herself up over Doli. “No fun in that. You up for round two?”
Doli was about to object—the mood seemed shattered at this point—but then soft fingers on her thigh sent shivers up her spine and she reconsidered quite thoroughly.
Doli woke up to an empty bed.
The trailer wasn’t particularly big, so it didn’t take long to figure out that Brittany had left entirely, and wasn’t just in the shower again.
The note left for her on the table only confirmed it.
Dear Doli,
Thanks a lot for letting me stay with you last night. And for the waffle I stole from your freezer. And for the amazing sex. <3 There’s something to be said about a human connection like that, even if it’s brief.
I don’t know what I’m looking for out of my life. I’m mostly just selfishly running away. I’ve accepted that, but I don’t blame you for not following my whims. I hope I find what I’m looking for someday. And I hope you do as well. We’ll probably never see each other again, but I’ll never forget last night.
-Find happiness.
Rather than a signature, Brittany had drawn a little bluebird in the bottom right corner.
Doli stared at the note, re-reading it over and over. Finally, she crumpled it up and stuffed it into her pocket. She turned to the photograph of her grandfather then closed her eyes, remembering his smile, his warmth. She took the picture frame off the wall, then began to pack.
Her mind was made up.
It didn’t take long for Doli to catch up. Brittany was on foot, after all.
Her truck sputtered to a stop next to the most beautiful girl Doli had ever seen, and she leaned over to roll down the window. “Hi.”
Brittany turned and smiled with perfect white teeth. “Hiya!”
“Where you headed?”
“Anywhere you want to take me.”
I had my teeth all gritted:
For a bunch of dark and depressing stories this round 'cause of the prompt, but so far, things have been nicely varied. Take this one, for example. There's darkness, sure, but in the end, it gets the hopeless romantic in me all sighing and swooning.
I mean, if you wanted to, author, you could do more with Doli's memories of her grandfather, maybe get into some compare/contrast with how she saw his life play out and how she's seeing her life play out. But this is good stuff from beginning to end.
Mike
For a bunch of dark and depressing stories this round 'cause of the prompt, but so far, things have been nicely varied. Take this one, for example. There's darkness, sure, but in the end, it gets the hopeless romantic in me all sighing and swooning.
I mean, if you wanted to, author, you could do more with Doli's memories of her grandfather, maybe get into some compare/contrast with how she saw his life play out and how she's seeing her life play out. But this is good stuff from beginning to end.
Mike
So I don't have a huge amount to say on this one. Bluebirds was a story I quite liked, intensely character focused and set out to achieve a very clear goal which it succeeded at. I feel that Doli, despite being the main character, doesn't really get much space to do much of anything—in some ways that's the point, but it restricts her character and leaves us struggling a bit to relate to her character growth. Other than that it was very good.
Hmm, hmm, it's alright in a slicey kinda way?
I mean, I enjoy a romance, and this isn't a bad one. The construction's definitely there, and the characters are interesting in their own ways.
I dunno. I guess I just want something a bit... more? This is definitely pleasant, but it didn't rock my socks off or leave me thinking or... really make much of an impression on me overall. I won't score it low, because I definitely enjoyed it, but it also didn't feel very interesting to me overall.
Good work, but I think I'd like something a bit more powerful?
I mean, I enjoy a romance, and this isn't a bad one. The construction's definitely there, and the characters are interesting in their own ways.
I dunno. I guess I just want something a bit... more? This is definitely pleasant, but it didn't rock my socks off or leave me thinking or... really make much of an impression on me overall. I won't score it low, because I definitely enjoyed it, but it also didn't feel very interesting to me overall.
Good work, but I think I'd like something a bit more powerful?
Genre: Romance
Thoughts: There are many potential kinds of romance stories, and this isn't one that has a lot of intrinsic appeal to me personally. Among my issues are that I felt like the setup was overly convenient, and the characters felt more like archetypes than like real, fully-rounded human beings. I mean, I can see bits of characterization (notably their struggles, flaws, and coping mechanisms) that are trying to push them away from that, but I wasn't sufficiently convinced; I feel like I've seen those done before, and with greater depth and nuance. The recurring theme of the bluebirds themselves (and their placement) threatened my suspension of disbelief, though I will give the author props for including a few such recurring themes in a story of this length.
Nevertheless, one of the key tests of a romance story is whether it can has emotional resonance, and I'd be lying if I said this doesn't. The overall mood and tone are powerful. The characters' decisions at the end make sense and provide a great payoff for the story as a whole.
So, while not my personal cup of tea, I feel this is very well-executed and deserves commensurately high marks. Heck, this is the last story on my slate, and right now this is vying with Beastly for my top spot.
Tier: Top Contender
Thoughts: There are many potential kinds of romance stories, and this isn't one that has a lot of intrinsic appeal to me personally. Among my issues are that I felt like the setup was overly convenient, and the characters felt more like archetypes than like real, fully-rounded human beings. I mean, I can see bits of characterization (notably their struggles, flaws, and coping mechanisms) that are trying to push them away from that, but I wasn't sufficiently convinced; I feel like I've seen those done before, and with greater depth and nuance. The recurring theme of the bluebirds themselves (and their placement) threatened my suspension of disbelief, though I will give the author props for including a few such recurring themes in a story of this length.
Nevertheless, one of the key tests of a romance story is whether it can has emotional resonance, and I'd be lying if I said this doesn't. The overall mood and tone are powerful. The characters' decisions at the end make sense and provide a great payoff for the story as a whole.
So, while not my personal cup of tea, I feel this is very well-executed and deserves commensurately high marks. Heck, this is the last story on my slate, and right now this is vying with Beastly for my top spot.
Tier: Top Contender
Bluebirds - A- — nice and slice of life-y and drifting along with great characterization and interaction. It just didn’t grab me and haul me along for the trip, but then again, it’s a slice of life story, not exactly Star Wars with laser battles. Not every story needs explosions (Sorry Michael Bay) but it didn’t hold my attention as much as I really expected.
All of the stories in finals had some interesting ideas and were generally well put together. I'm sort of ranking my finals slate by the magnitude of the problems the stories did have, and this is ending up near the bottom due to a (somewhat less severe) case of the same plausibility issues from the stories I just reviewed.
Oddly enough, it's not the hitchhiking-white-supermodel-chick part that broke me. Truth is stranger than fiction here: check out Cheryl Strayed's Wild, or see the movie based on it, for a story of a somewhat similar woman who just fucked off from her life to go find herself out on theroad trail. Doli randomly picking her up and taking her in also didn't trigger my weirdness dial, because in my own life I have literally been taken in that same way: a single woman named Shari played trail angel for me when I was hitchhiking to town near the start of my Pacific Crest Trail hike in 2006, and drove me home to give me a shower and a home-cooked meal, and that was even with me being a tall and grungy male (which really changes the power dynamic).
No, what first really made me blink here was Brittany's out-of-nowhere gaydar and Doli's unforeshadowed lesbianism. And while I get that on both sides this was a relationship about need (or simple lust) rather than love, I just wasn't feeling any chemistry here, and since the whole plot from there on was contingent on selling the romance, the rest of the story fell kinda flat.
I'd recommend tinkering with the early story to foreshadow the romantic angle more (or at least put us more inside Doli's head to lay a more solid foundation for the lesbian thing). The rest of this holds together pretty well, but that part was so central it's dragging this down for me.
Tier: Almost There
Oddly enough, it's not the hitchhiking-white-supermodel-chick part that broke me. Truth is stranger than fiction here: check out Cheryl Strayed's Wild, or see the movie based on it, for a story of a somewhat similar woman who just fucked off from her life to go find herself out on the
No, what first really made me blink here was Brittany's out-of-nowhere gaydar and Doli's unforeshadowed lesbianism. And while I get that on both sides this was a relationship about need (or simple lust) rather than love, I just wasn't feeling any chemistry here, and since the whole plot from there on was contingent on selling the romance, the rest of the story fell kinda flat.
I'd recommend tinkering with the early story to foreshadow the romantic angle more (or at least put us more inside Doli's head to lay a more solid foundation for the lesbian thing). The rest of this holds together pretty well, but that part was so central it's dragging this down for me.
Tier: Almost There
Bluebirds
So let's talk about slice of life. Central to the notion is that you can do away with fancy worlds, explosions, mystery, tension, sometimes even drama, and still get a good story out of it. Why? People. Because people, in all their complexity, can make a fascinating tale by themseves.
It follows from this that a slice of life story is supported by its characters. To be any good, it needs to portray them with insight and complexity.
Does Bluebirds do this?
I don't think it does. Doli and Brittany are cardboard cutouts. Consider: What commonality brings them together? Being disaffected lesbian/bisexual millennials. That's it. What else about them can we say? Well, they have different backgrounds that don't affect their characters at all. That's about it.
Even the text itself seems to acknowledge this:
Because the deepest possible basis of attraction is educational background and race. Okay, sure.
And I can't go any further. This story embodies some of the things I dislike most in literature. It is sentimental, shallow, and openly manipulative. I can say no more about it.
So let's talk about slice of life. Central to the notion is that you can do away with fancy worlds, explosions, mystery, tension, sometimes even drama, and still get a good story out of it. Why? People. Because people, in all their complexity, can make a fascinating tale by themseves.
It follows from this that a slice of life story is supported by its characters. To be any good, it needs to portray them with insight and complexity.
Does Bluebirds do this?
I don't think it does. Doli and Brittany are cardboard cutouts. Consider: What commonality brings them together? Being disaffected lesbian/bisexual millennials. That's it. What else about them can we say? Well, they have different backgrounds that don't affect their characters at all. That's about it.
Even the text itself seems to acknowledge this:
“Ever been with a girl before?”
“One. Had a brief thing maybe six years ago. She was half white though, and ended up going to college.”
Brittany nodded, and flashed her perfect teeth. “Guess I’m your type then, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Doli growled, then dove into another kiss.
Because the deepest possible basis of attraction is educational background and race. Okay, sure.
And I can't go any further. This story embodies some of the things I dislike most in literature. It is sentimental, shallow, and openly manipulative. I can say no more about it.
“Okay!” A shuffling of limbs could be heard as a case unzipped. With a clatter of a device coming onto the top of a wooden desk.
“Labtop? Check.” the voice replied back to itself. Listing out items that served a certain purpose.
“Mouse? Checkarooni.” a light giggled followed this time as the voice seemed to be flaring out in glee. Happy to have been doing whatever it was he was clearly setting up for.
“Review draft? Oh yeah, got that!” the change of the tone of voice showed some type of depression as he sighed out with a simple fling of his leg right over his head. Brushing his long flowing blue mane as he sat down.
With a mix of dread, fear, and happiness, Remedy was back on scene.
“Alright. Been a loonnnggg time. Finally back now.” A swift flick of his hoof and the top of the labtop flung open with it’s light flaring out at Remedy’s face. Beeping back to life as hooftips tapped along the keyboard.
“And. To…-” His words trailed out slowing in motion as he tapped more keys logging into his secured computer clicking on several links and getting to the one page that made his face light up with a smile.
“Begin!” A final tap and Remedy found himself staring at a blank replica of a white sheet. An empty document that he would write his next story. His next piece of work. His aspirations his thoughts and fantasies, to be stroked into words and coding that would be presented to the community he had loathed and loved for so long.
Yet even as happy as he was. There in the moment of his choosing. With the single chance to continue. He had froze up. His hooves finding no reason to tap anymore keys. Soon he could feel every spark fade away. Along with his smile which now mirrored how his stomach felt. Something he had loved to do so often just now seemed to fall apart so easily for him.
Whatever reason Remy had stopped for, it was clear that it was strong enough to tear apart at his mind. Rejection, judgement, acceptance, and certain things that just seemed to appalled him, were all tied into this devastating ache in his belly.
Through sheer mental capacity, Remedy had swallowed hard and accepted it. Doing what he loved to do and letting those matters be handled later in the future.
His right hoof tapped one key, with his left slowly tapping in pursuit. Soon he found his limbs back in business typing on his old out-dated thing. A steady rhythm of keys being hit filled the air. His mind releasing thoughts left and right. His smile perked up once more and for now he was lost in the love for the art of writing.
“Block Hurdle”
-Remedial Fortuitous Heart
POSITIVES
Details-The traits in this story is rather emphasized on the conditions that surround our two characters in their story. You take simple qualities and features and make them known without having to overdo each one. Some are more obvious and others are painted for the reader. This draws you into the story and shows a good natural feel to the characters. Thus making them feel more intimate to bond with and follow. While this is a good strong point of the story. I do want a little bit more detail with some of the other points of their environments. The trailer, the truck, and , sadly, the entire desert, felt rather bland and didn’t have no meaning, other than just being there. Perhaps the focus on the two love birds drew away from this, but overall you impressed me with how you managed to continue to mentally draw more in my mind as they interacted with certain pieces. The car seat, the couch, and the mailbox all held a meaningful impact that made the surroundings even more effective. Even though it shouldn’t be the focus it still plays a role in making the plot stronger and the immersive experience much deeper.
Relating-Being able to relate to a character is an important part of immersion that can make a story interesting. You meet someone, follow them through their journey, and end up learning from them. Witnessing their victories and/or failures. You do this easily by summing up their concerns through dialogue and the descriptions with their current attire and clothing. My only problem with this is that we could have such a stronger immersion set in if you drew flashbacks into the mix. It didn’t have to be big, but it would have made this story touching to see a bit more background to our two characters. Doli’s grandfather would have been a nice touch, when a reader would first read about an older gentleman who then passed away later in the story as you hop into the present scenario. Brittany arguing with her parents would have made the presentation of the credit card under their name seem so moving at that time. These were things you could have highlighted by merely adding a bit more to the story without ever changing the plotline.
NEGATIVES
Ending-This wasn’t exactly the strongest part of the story. It just suddenly ends without there ever having to be some sort of struggle or conflict. With Doli’s decision changing at the mere flip of a coin, to join Brittany on her adventure for the mere fact of love and a change of life. I’m not buying it. You have an established girl who knows she can live peacefully with someone who decided to run away to chase after some unknown happiness. Polar opposites that come together just so simply and easily that they never seem to have trouble meshing with one another. Doli should have at least had some decision making scenes to draw the story out more and give meaning to the ending. The ending also felt empty. There was nothing to go by or learn from this story by just having both of them joined together after um...sex. Don’t get me wrong. Loved the sex part and the lesbians, but uh...yeah. I’m a perv and you won me with just that alone. Though after calming down my white booty, I saw there was no real moral lesson or anything gained/lost.
Conflict-There wasn’t anything for me to dive into here other than the romance. Which I think was heavily overdone. No real build-up and two strangers just shagged in a torn down trailer and drove off in their truck into the sunrise. What we have here is straight line romance without anything bad in it. I never felt worried about Doli’s decision to run or stay. I never felt bad for their conditions. They just accepted everything in their wake without ever even having the thought to lay everything on the table and sort through each piece. Just that simple conflict alone would have made this light up like fire. Though it’s entirely difficult to make such a conflict complex in its symplectic nature of just making a single choice. There were things you could have played with to make Doli’s leaving more depressing, or joyful, for your reader by playing with the story more. By adding in a scene where Doli looks over her bank account or Brittany ends up treating her out to dinner. These things could have made this so much more concrete to have that effect in the end where a reader would be happy/sad with the ending of Doli’s absence in the desert or her new outlook on life and her current relationship.
Life-Life in itself is difficult. This is highlighted so much in this story that its able to make a name for itself by just showing two girls down on their luck, yet high off of life. The numbing desperation of living a stable life with the curious whimsical nature that is luck and chance. Doli’s job and life conditions are something a person can relate to, as not everyone has their very own dream house or the perfect job. Even when you do it’ll feel like something is missing. Which we get that end from brittany herself. These facts are told, yet they never seemed to play a role for the two characters. It was here I expected to see some sort of struggle. Something bad that would make the good parts shine through. These girls had their priorities straight, yet dropped everything. The simple question is can you yourself, or I for that matter, do the same? What does this story encourage? What does it entail? I can’t grasp the lesson. The moral of the story just feels out of place telling me to drop everything and face every difficult thing in life. No money, how to move around, which bed to sleep in next, etc. All just to chase something that really has no goal in it. Then there’s the theory of purpose and playing a part in the web of economical nature, but that’s another thing entirely.
So this is the first story I’ve read and reviewed in a long time. It’s not the best quality but has a lot of features that most can’t seem to grasp. Traits being romance plotline, details in dialogue, among many things. So far I wasn’t moved and felt disappointed as it held a feeling of a slice of life movie or a book. I expected to cry and smile at the same time. To truly be there for that character in her one important decision in her life. It had a good climb and ended with a suddenly slowing halt. This one felt more linear than most stories. So it really didn’t move me. It did moved something though *wink wink* girl on girl.
“Labtop? Check.” the voice replied back to itself. Listing out items that served a certain purpose.
“Mouse? Checkarooni.” a light giggled followed this time as the voice seemed to be flaring out in glee. Happy to have been doing whatever it was he was clearly setting up for.
“Review draft? Oh yeah, got that!” the change of the tone of voice showed some type of depression as he sighed out with a simple fling of his leg right over his head. Brushing his long flowing blue mane as he sat down.
With a mix of dread, fear, and happiness, Remedy was back on scene.
“Alright. Been a loonnnggg time. Finally back now.” A swift flick of his hoof and the top of the labtop flung open with it’s light flaring out at Remedy’s face. Beeping back to life as hooftips tapped along the keyboard.
“And. To…-” His words trailed out slowing in motion as he tapped more keys logging into his secured computer clicking on several links and getting to the one page that made his face light up with a smile.
“Begin!” A final tap and Remedy found himself staring at a blank replica of a white sheet. An empty document that he would write his next story. His next piece of work. His aspirations his thoughts and fantasies, to be stroked into words and coding that would be presented to the community he had loathed and loved for so long.
Yet even as happy as he was. There in the moment of his choosing. With the single chance to continue. He had froze up. His hooves finding no reason to tap anymore keys. Soon he could feel every spark fade away. Along with his smile which now mirrored how his stomach felt. Something he had loved to do so often just now seemed to fall apart so easily for him.
Whatever reason Remy had stopped for, it was clear that it was strong enough to tear apart at his mind. Rejection, judgement, acceptance, and certain things that just seemed to appalled him, were all tied into this devastating ache in his belly.
Through sheer mental capacity, Remedy had swallowed hard and accepted it. Doing what he loved to do and letting those matters be handled later in the future.
His right hoof tapped one key, with his left slowly tapping in pursuit. Soon he found his limbs back in business typing on his old out-dated thing. A steady rhythm of keys being hit filled the air. His mind releasing thoughts left and right. His smile perked up once more and for now he was lost in the love for the art of writing.
“Block Hurdle”
-Remedial Fortuitous Heart
POSITIVES
Details-The traits in this story is rather emphasized on the conditions that surround our two characters in their story. You take simple qualities and features and make them known without having to overdo each one. Some are more obvious and others are painted for the reader. This draws you into the story and shows a good natural feel to the characters. Thus making them feel more intimate to bond with and follow. While this is a good strong point of the story. I do want a little bit more detail with some of the other points of their environments. The trailer, the truck, and , sadly, the entire desert, felt rather bland and didn’t have no meaning, other than just being there. Perhaps the focus on the two love birds drew away from this, but overall you impressed me with how you managed to continue to mentally draw more in my mind as they interacted with certain pieces. The car seat, the couch, and the mailbox all held a meaningful impact that made the surroundings even more effective. Even though it shouldn’t be the focus it still plays a role in making the plot stronger and the immersive experience much deeper.
Relating-Being able to relate to a character is an important part of immersion that can make a story interesting. You meet someone, follow them through their journey, and end up learning from them. Witnessing their victories and/or failures. You do this easily by summing up their concerns through dialogue and the descriptions with their current attire and clothing. My only problem with this is that we could have such a stronger immersion set in if you drew flashbacks into the mix. It didn’t have to be big, but it would have made this story touching to see a bit more background to our two characters. Doli’s grandfather would have been a nice touch, when a reader would first read about an older gentleman who then passed away later in the story as you hop into the present scenario. Brittany arguing with her parents would have made the presentation of the credit card under their name seem so moving at that time. These were things you could have highlighted by merely adding a bit more to the story without ever changing the plotline.
NEGATIVES
Ending-This wasn’t exactly the strongest part of the story. It just suddenly ends without there ever having to be some sort of struggle or conflict. With Doli’s decision changing at the mere flip of a coin, to join Brittany on her adventure for the mere fact of love and a change of life. I’m not buying it. You have an established girl who knows she can live peacefully with someone who decided to run away to chase after some unknown happiness. Polar opposites that come together just so simply and easily that they never seem to have trouble meshing with one another. Doli should have at least had some decision making scenes to draw the story out more and give meaning to the ending. The ending also felt empty. There was nothing to go by or learn from this story by just having both of them joined together after um...sex. Don’t get me wrong. Loved the sex part and the lesbians, but uh...yeah. I’m a perv and you won me with just that alone. Though after calming down my white booty, I saw there was no real moral lesson or anything gained/lost.
Conflict-There wasn’t anything for me to dive into here other than the romance. Which I think was heavily overdone. No real build-up and two strangers just shagged in a torn down trailer and drove off in their truck into the sunrise. What we have here is straight line romance without anything bad in it. I never felt worried about Doli’s decision to run or stay. I never felt bad for their conditions. They just accepted everything in their wake without ever even having the thought to lay everything on the table and sort through each piece. Just that simple conflict alone would have made this light up like fire. Though it’s entirely difficult to make such a conflict complex in its symplectic nature of just making a single choice. There were things you could have played with to make Doli’s leaving more depressing, or joyful, for your reader by playing with the story more. By adding in a scene where Doli looks over her bank account or Brittany ends up treating her out to dinner. These things could have made this so much more concrete to have that effect in the end where a reader would be happy/sad with the ending of Doli’s absence in the desert or her new outlook on life and her current relationship.
Life-Life in itself is difficult. This is highlighted so much in this story that its able to make a name for itself by just showing two girls down on their luck, yet high off of life. The numbing desperation of living a stable life with the curious whimsical nature that is luck and chance. Doli’s job and life conditions are something a person can relate to, as not everyone has their very own dream house or the perfect job. Even when you do it’ll feel like something is missing. Which we get that end from brittany herself. These facts are told, yet they never seemed to play a role for the two characters. It was here I expected to see some sort of struggle. Something bad that would make the good parts shine through. These girls had their priorities straight, yet dropped everything. The simple question is can you yourself, or I for that matter, do the same? What does this story encourage? What does it entail? I can’t grasp the lesson. The moral of the story just feels out of place telling me to drop everything and face every difficult thing in life. No money, how to move around, which bed to sleep in next, etc. All just to chase something that really has no goal in it. Then there’s the theory of purpose and playing a part in the web of economical nature, but that’s another thing entirely.
So this is the first story I’ve read and reviewed in a long time. It’s not the best quality but has a lot of features that most can’t seem to grasp. Traits being romance plotline, details in dialogue, among many things. So far I wasn’t moved and felt disappointed as it held a feeling of a slice of life movie or a book. I expected to cry and smile at the same time. To truly be there for that character in her one important decision in her life. It had a good climb and ended with a suddenly slowing halt. This one felt more linear than most stories. So it really didn’t move me. It did moved something though *wink wink* girl on girl.
As others have noted, it would be for this story's best if there were more story in here.
I believe that the best way to accomplish this would be to either ramp up the intensity of the relationship between the two characters, or to telescope the amount of time in which this takes place (upping it from a day to, say, three days). I can readily believe that two people who have just met can make such an impulsive, life-altering decision in this short a period of time. What I cannot believe, as it stands, is how these two particular characters did this, beyond a trite "because the author made it so." There are hints at interesting directions that each of these characters could be taken, but they need both narrative space and emotional room to be allowed to take them, first.
I will give credit, however, for the sort of low-key audacity inherent in looking at a prompt like "The Killing Machine" and producing a slice-of-life romance tale in response. One that also manages to take a very subtle approach to the prompt, as well. The grind of lower-class life on the margins might lack the rah-rah-sis-boom-bah of clashing machinery and sundering flesh, but it can be (or, at the very least, feels) just as lethal, all the same. It is to this story's merit that it manages to approach that, however quietly.
Thank you, author, for writing this.
I believe that the best way to accomplish this would be to either ramp up the intensity of the relationship between the two characters, or to telescope the amount of time in which this takes place (upping it from a day to, say, three days). I can readily believe that two people who have just met can make such an impulsive, life-altering decision in this short a period of time. What I cannot believe, as it stands, is how these two particular characters did this, beyond a trite "because the author made it so." There are hints at interesting directions that each of these characters could be taken, but they need both narrative space and emotional room to be allowed to take them, first.
I will give credit, however, for the sort of low-key audacity inherent in looking at a prompt like "The Killing Machine" and producing a slice-of-life romance tale in response. One that also manages to take a very subtle approach to the prompt, as well. The grind of lower-class life on the margins might lack the rah-rah-sis-boom-bah of clashing machinery and sundering flesh, but it can be (or, at the very least, feels) just as lethal, all the same. It is to this story's merit that it manages to approach that, however quietly.
Thank you, author, for writing this.
>>Baal Bunny >>billymorph >>Not_A_Hat >>CoffeeMinion >>georg >>horizon >>Scramblers and Shadows >>Remedyfortheheart >>Hagdal Hohensalza
The Killing Machine is like, society maaan...
4th place! And probably just a single vote or so off of getting my first medal. Oh well. I've got a good idea for the next pony round, let's see if I can pull it off.
To the surprise of very few, I wrote the story about lesbians in a writeoff about Killing Machines.
A week or so before this writeoff, I saw a yuri visual novel on Steam called "Highway Blossoms." About two girls in the american southwest who drive around on a road trip then fall in lesbians. I thought "that sounds neat," and bought it. A few days later, I came up with the premise for Bluebirds, loosely based on the general premise of lesbian hitchhikers in the southwest. Then the writeoff came along, the prompt was Killing Machine, I blanched, then decided to do it vaguely anyway. Only after I had fully written the story did I actually bother to read Highway Blossoms. It was pretty good, if you're into that sort of thing, but I'm certainly glad I waited until after I'd finished writing Bluebirds to read it.
In any case, Bluebirds. Alcoholic Navajo girl with nothing to live for meets insane white girl who's thrown away everything. It's not a particularly healthy relationship. They barely know each other, their compatibility is based only on lust and physical proximity and a desperate need for companionship of any sort. Their trip is ill thought out, and will almost certainly end poorly.
According to my cursory google research, bluebirds are a symbol of the sun and morning in Navajo culture, and it is allegedly the meaning of the name "Doli." There's also a early 20th century Belgian play, later adapted into a number of movies called The Blue Bird. Something about children leaving on a fairytale adventure to seek this mythical bluebird of happiness only to find out that it was just sitting around at home the entire time.
I agree with a lot of the critique in that this story simply needed more. More angst, more conflict, more fleshing out of the characters, maybe a little more time spent with them, more time emphasizing the crippling poverty of Doli's surroundings.
A few things I wanted to address specifically:
>>horizon
Really? Doli spent a significant amount of her narration heavily focused on Brittany's physical appearance, often describing in almost worshipful language. She keeps getting lost in Brittany's eyes, staring at her cleavage, getting anxious about having a pretty girl naked in her shower, and is flustered at the offer of sharing the bed. I'm not sure how I could have made it any gayer, other than throwing in some telly narration of "oh look how lesbians I am"
>>Scramblers and Shadows
The line in question here is more of a bitter aside, an acknowledgement that being half white was the only way Doli's ex was able to escape the crippling poverty of the Navajo Nation (and leave Doli behind.) Whether or not Brittany recognizes it as such is up in the air, but she deflects it and turns it around to tease and flirt anyway.
In any case, thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing Bluebirds. I hope you enjoyed it, and if not, oh well. As it's original fiction and I can't get horsepoints for publishing it, I doubt I'll do any revising, but I'm getting close to starting on an original novel soon anyway, once I finish my current horse-project, and getting in OF practice is always welcome. Congratulations to our finalists, and I look forward to seeing many of you at Bronycon.
The Killing Machine is like, society maaan...
4th place! And probably just a single vote or so off of getting my first medal. Oh well. I've got a good idea for the next pony round, let's see if I can pull it off.
To the surprise of very few, I wrote the story about lesbians in a writeoff about Killing Machines.
A week or so before this writeoff, I saw a yuri visual novel on Steam called "Highway Blossoms." About two girls in the american southwest who drive around on a road trip then fall in lesbians. I thought "that sounds neat," and bought it. A few days later, I came up with the premise for Bluebirds, loosely based on the general premise of lesbian hitchhikers in the southwest. Then the writeoff came along, the prompt was Killing Machine, I blanched, then decided to do it vaguely anyway. Only after I had fully written the story did I actually bother to read Highway Blossoms. It was pretty good, if you're into that sort of thing, but I'm certainly glad I waited until after I'd finished writing Bluebirds to read it.
In any case, Bluebirds. Alcoholic Navajo girl with nothing to live for meets insane white girl who's thrown away everything. It's not a particularly healthy relationship. They barely know each other, their compatibility is based only on lust and physical proximity and a desperate need for companionship of any sort. Their trip is ill thought out, and will almost certainly end poorly.
According to my cursory google research, bluebirds are a symbol of the sun and morning in Navajo culture, and it is allegedly the meaning of the name "Doli." There's also a early 20th century Belgian play, later adapted into a number of movies called The Blue Bird. Something about children leaving on a fairytale adventure to seek this mythical bluebird of happiness only to find out that it was just sitting around at home the entire time.
I agree with a lot of the critique in that this story simply needed more. More angst, more conflict, more fleshing out of the characters, maybe a little more time spent with them, more time emphasizing the crippling poverty of Doli's surroundings.
A few things I wanted to address specifically:
>>horizon
No, what first really made me blink here was Brittany's out-of-nowhere gaydar and Doli's unforeshadowed lesbianism.
Really? Doli spent a significant amount of her narration heavily focused on Brittany's physical appearance, often describing in almost worshipful language. She keeps getting lost in Brittany's eyes, staring at her cleavage, getting anxious about having a pretty girl naked in her shower, and is flustered at the offer of sharing the bed. I'm not sure how I could have made it any gayer, other than throwing in some telly narration of "oh look how lesbians I am"
>>Scramblers and Shadows
Because the deepest possible basis of attraction is educational background and race. Okay, sure.
The line in question here is more of a bitter aside, an acknowledgement that being half white was the only way Doli's ex was able to escape the crippling poverty of the Navajo Nation (and leave Doli behind.) Whether or not Brittany recognizes it as such is up in the air, but she deflects it and turns it around to tease and flirt anyway.
In any case, thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing Bluebirds. I hope you enjoyed it, and if not, oh well. As it's original fiction and I can't get horsepoints for publishing it, I doubt I'll do any revising, but I'm getting close to starting on an original novel soon anyway, once I finish my current horse-project, and getting in OF practice is always welcome. Congratulations to our finalists, and I look forward to seeing many of you at Bronycon.
>>Oroboro
To be fair, I did preface that quote by saying the text itself seemed to acknowledge the problems. :p
This actually connects with CiG's point about subtlety above. The thing is, if you're portraying an unhealthy relationship as a healthy one, for irony or whatever, you need to be really underscore that it IS an unhealthy relationship. Especially when it comes to romance, because a giant chunk of our cultural output tends to glorify unhealthy and shallow relationships as a proper kind of romance.
Now, say, if you were to use this as a lead in for a longer story in which the two girls' differences ended up bubbling to the surface during their journey and made them end up hating each other, that would be fantastic.
The line in question here is more of a bitter aside, an acknowledgement that being half white was the only way Doli's ex was able to escape the crippling poverty of the Navajo Nation (and leave Doli behind.) Whether or not Brittany recognizes it as such is up in the air, but she deflects it and turns it around to tease and flirt anyway.
To be fair, I did preface that quote by saying the text itself seemed to acknowledge the problems. :p
This actually connects with CiG's point about subtlety above. The thing is, if you're portraying an unhealthy relationship as a healthy one, for irony or whatever, you need to be really underscore that it IS an unhealthy relationship. Especially when it comes to romance, because a giant chunk of our cultural output tends to glorify unhealthy and shallow relationships as a proper kind of romance.
Now, say, if you were to use this as a lead in for a longer story in which the two girls' differences ended up bubbling to the surface during their journey and made them end up hating each other, that would be fantastic.