Paul

Paul stood in front of the full length mirror admiring himself. He would put his hands on his hips and twist at the waist. He'd put his hands up, pretending to stretch. He even turned around at one point and touched his toes, peeking between his legs to admire his ass. He had just finished doing a quick double spin and an imaginary Farrah Fawcett hair flip when the phone rang.

"Hello," he answered. Realizing his voice was still a bit high pitched he coughed and repeated his greeting, deeper.

"Paul?" It was a woman's voice. "Paul, is that you?"

It was Meggan. His heart skipped a beat and he mumbled a reply to confirm his identity.

"Paul," Meggan continued, almost ignoring his grunt, "you still have some stuff of mine and I'd really like it back."

Paul continued to look into the mirror, his mind swirling. Even though the break up WAS his idea and he knew it was for the best, he still missed Meggan. He missed their talks. He missed how she would always laugh whenever he told a joke, intentional or not. He missed how she could make him feel 100% better just by walking into the room. Unfortunately, he realized after some time that he missed her more than he was actually AROUND her. They were both just far too busy and he had so much else going on in his life that he never felt up to making even the slightest effort. No matter how bad that may make him look, Paul knew it to be true. He was finding himself interested in other people and it was only after cutting off the relationship that he realized just how much he cared for Meggan.

"PAUL!" Meggan was yelling into the phone to get his attention. "Dammit, Paul," she quickly said, "I need my stuff back!" She paused a few beats then added, "when can I come get it?"

"What stuff?" Paul made an effort to look around his room. After a couple of motions of looking under his bed and in the closet it hit him that she couldn't see his performance and stopped. "If you tell me what stuff," he said, "I can get it to you."

"Jesus, Paul, you can't figure out which shit is yours and what stuff is mine?"

Paul was half tempted to question her use of the word "shit" to describe his stuff while describing her shit as "stuff" but thought the better of it. "I just don't want to miss anything," Paul said calmly. 'You bitch,' he thought.

"Uh, christ," Meggan said, pausing and talking to herself to organize the list. "Um, a couple of cd's, my hairbrush, a book for psych, that t-shirt with the chickens on it and my bathing suit."

"Bathing suit?"

"Yeah, remember? I kept coming over THERE to swim so I just left it there a couple of weeks ago?" Meggan waited a moment for Paul to acknowledge some understanding or memory. "The two piece, black and red one?"

Paul nodded and said, "Rrrrright. I know that one."

"So I can come get all of it or what?"

Paul could hear the aggravation in her voice and grunted his agreement in order to hopefully keep her from getting any madder.

"Ok, great. I'll be by around 7."

"Cool."

"And Paul?" Meggan asked.

"Yeah?"

"Don't make it awkward, ok?"

"NO problem," Paul said, a bit too much emphasis on the 'no'. "I promise... simple exchange of items. You come here, I'll bring it all down."

"Great. I'm glad. See you later."

Paul hung up the phone and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes bored into themselves and he began reciting the conversation again and again. He moved around a bit, posing and walking. He pulled at the top to adjust it. It was a bit too big in some places but he was barely able to tie it in back. The bottom piece fit ok except for the whole thing where his testicles felt like they were trying to go back up inside him.

He started to yell all the words Meggan had said to him and paced madly about his small room. He would occasionally knock something over on a shelf or kick the bed as he repeated "Let's not make it awkward" in a high, nasally voice, his nose scrunched up and eyebrows raised.

The next day' newspaper would report a story about cops being called out to a suburban neighborhood to arrest a young man running about in a skimpy two piece bathing suit, red and black, while screaming various unintelligible words and phrases. Onlookers would report only understanding a few bits including "chicken", "feathers", "bang my bunny" and "Yes, Mr. Ed, I'd love to have your saddle".