#ALSO the iced coffee had frozen coffee as the ice cubes. perfect establishment

[biblicalhorror]

Yesterday I saw one of those dumb articles claiming a donut shop in MY town was "voted best in the state" and I didn't even know we HAD a doughnut shop so I decided to go check it out this morning and yall. my life is changed

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

My Dearest Trashy,

In honor of my sprained ankle, which is particularly angry today, can you write me a FLUFFY little number where Dylan takes care of his injured girlfriend?

Love,

Your BFF Mischief

Happily. Gladly. Eagerly.

This one goes out to my bestie and her busted ankle. Much love, beautiful human! - Trashy, your filthy enabler ;)

Tags: SWEET AS SHIT FLUFF. DEAL WITH IT, SMUT LOVERS.

Authors Note: Established relationship with a girl named Rachael. Rachael is my go-to for one-shots. If that's your name, I suppose this is an insert? Enjoy? ;) Also, here's some recommended listening, if you're into that kind of thing <3

As Long As You're With Me

God, what a long day. What a long-ass day. Rachael’s ankle ached and throbbed when she finally sat down on the couch. She winced as she reached down to rub at it.

“You’re supposed to be resting that, you know…” Dylan said, walking out from the kitchen into the living room. “Even at work…”

When she’d left that morning, he was still lazily walking around the house shirtless in a pair of grey sweats, so she was a bit surprised to see him looking so pulled together, especially since he said he’d be spending the day at home. He was wearing a dark blue sweater, and a pair of his favorite khakis. His hair was that perfect disheveled he managed to achieve on a fairly regular basis. He looked good, but he always did.

“No rest for the wicked,” she smiled at him, but she was sure it wasn’t convincing him.

He shook his head and sat down next to her, placing his hand on her thigh. “I really wish you’d taken another week off before you started going back into the office.” He looked down at her feet.

“I know, but...they needed me in there and the new guy is a fucking disaster.”

He sighed in resignation with a small shake of his head. “Well come on then,” he said, patting his thigh. “Get ‘em up here.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Yes I do. So, shut up and gimme the hoof”.

Rachael laughed sliding sideways a bit on the couch so she could swing her legs up over his knees. She rested her back against the arm of the couch, watching him as he peeled off her little ankle socks and balled them up before he set them on the back of the couch.

Dylan ran a long finger down the side of her swollen ankle, stilling over the slight bruise that still discoloured it.

Rachael could see the way his brows knitted together like he was feeling her pain when he touched her skin. He loved her. She could see it in everything he did—everything he said—and she loved him too.

“I should have been there when you slipped,” he said, looking up at her as he laid his palm on her skin, the heat of his skin soothing the ache a bit. “Could’ve caught you.”

She smiled with a sigh. “I would have found a way to bust my ass with you holding my hand, and I think you know that.”

He laughed, wrapping her foot up in his hand and rubbing his thumbs into the arch. “The clumsy does run deep, huh?” he grinned, his hands working over her aching joints, but not stressing her tender injury.

She could feel the tension easing, some of the swelling in her foot and toes calming down under his touch.

“So how was your first day back?” he asked, swapping his attention to the other foot.

Rachel paused for a minute, watching the careful way he held her, the gentle way he worked his fingers against her skin. “I mean...it could have been better? Could’ve been worse?”

“Ah,” he said before he pressed his lips into a thin line. “So on a scale of one to workplace-fuckery, you were sitting around a ‘meh’?”

He had a way of making her feel like nothing was worth sweating over too much. That whatever it was that was bothering her just shouldn’t. That he was there for her, and that they’d get through it together. That she could lean on him and he’d gladly shoulder the extra weight.

“Yeah. ‘Meh’ sounds about right.”

“So,” he said, shifting the conversation “I was gonna cook for you, but I figured you’d actually like to enjoy your meal after a long day.” He flashed her a wink.

“Mmm, very astute of you,” she teased.

“Hey!” he reprimanded, his hands stilling on her skin. “I’m allowed to self-deprecate, but no one said you could pile on.”

“Sorry, sorry, go on…” she encouraged.

“So…” he drew it out, teasing her even more with the way he exaggerated the start of his sentence, “I ordered in…”

“Little Duck!?”

He huffed in feigned annoyance. “The art of surprise is entirely lost on you, isn’t it?”

“You act like I shouldn’t know that you’d order pad thai for such an illustrious occasion.”

He gave her foot a small squeeze before he spoke. “Fair.” He continued working over her sore joints with his strong hands, both of his thumbs driving the tension out of the arch on this foot too. “But, I think I can still surprise you,” he waggled his brows.

“Oh, really?” Rachel grinned.

“Mhm,” he hummed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

“We’ll see…”

He didn’t respond, he simply shook his head. “I’m gonna go grab some ice for this, because...while I know I have a magical touch with these,” he held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “This bad boy,” he pointed to her swollen ankle, “needs the frozen peas treatment.”

She chuckled at him as he carefully lifted her feet from his lap and sat them down on a pillow he tucked under them.

“One sec,” he said, skipping off into the kitchen.

Rachael heard him digging around in the freezer, whistling and puttering around in the drawers for a minute or so before she heard the sound of a bunch of ice skittering across the kitchen floor. “Dyl! You alright?” she asked, sitting up a bit, holding her weight up on her palms.

“I got it!” he said, poking his head around the corner as he chased down an ice cube that had bounced through the threshold into the dining room. “Nothing to see here...don’t get up. I got it under control.”

“All right…just don’t hurt yourself. We can’t both be laid up,” she covered her eyes for a moment with her forearm, clearing her head before she laid back and relaxed, listening to him laugh a little bit before he started to whistle.

“Gotcha, you little fucker,” he said, presumably to an ice cube he’d tracked down in the kitchen. He strode back out into the living room, proudly holding a ziplock bag of ice and a tea towel. “M’lady,” he bowed, presenting the bag like it was a glass slipper on a velvet pillow.

She scooched along the couch to make a bit more space for him to sit down when the doorbell rang.

“Thai!” he almost shouted, wrapping the bag of ice in the tea toweL. He rested it on the pillow and set her ankle on it. “Hold that there,” he said, rushing for the door and flinging it open.

“Will do.”

Their dinner was sitting on the doorstep. “God. Don’t you just fucking love DoorDash?” he asked, plucking the bag from the ground before he shut the door. “Gone are the days of awkward conversations with food-peddling strangers. I couldn’t be happier about it.”

“Are you saying you don’t miss that long minute of awkward silence while you’re waiting for the transaction to finish?”

Dylan walked over and sat the bag on the coffee table. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed.

Dylan walked past her to the kitchen and grabbed some drinks before he snatched the remote control off the end table and turned on the TV. “Dinner and a movie?” he asked, looking over at her.

“Sure,” she smiled, sitting up a bit.

“Ah, ah,” he tisked, walking around to her side of the couch, standing over her and grabbing a pillow from the chair to place behind her back. “Rest,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

Rachael sighed at the sweet gesture, but she wanted a little bit more than sweet. When he pulled back from her, she reached and pulled him down to her so that she could kiss him properly. His mouth was quick to adapt to the sudden need hers had for it. He leaned down even more to deepen their connection and his hands were soon knotting into the waves of her hair.

When she felt like she needed a breath, he cradled her face in his hand and peppered her lips and cheek with small kisses until his lips were brushing against the skin of her neck below her ear.

“Someone’s hungry,” he teased.

She smirked, brushing her lips over his ear. “Yeah...but mostly for thai food.”

“Ouch,” he laughed as he stood, “way to hurt a man’s feelings,” he feigned a gutshot as he walked back around the coffee table.

She tucked her legs back long enough for him to flop down onto the couch and adjust the cushion so that it was propped up on his thigh before she rested her ankle on it again.

He turned on the TV and opened Hulu. “Never Been Kissed?” he asked, pausing on the preview screen.

“Really, Dyl?”

“What!?”

“I thought you were going to surprise me?” she teased

He turned to her, looking less than impressed. “Alright, smartass. You pick.” He tossed her the remote.

“Fine,” she said, picking it up as he leaned forward and started taking the food out of the bag. He set her box of pad thai down in front of her, along with a pair of wrapped chopsticks. She grinned when she found the perfect movie. “This one,” she said clicking on it.

Dylan looked up at the TV, and his expression turned to indignation before he turned to her. “Really?” he asked before he ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip.

“You said I could pick!” she whined. “I’m injured and sad…” she pouted, batting her lashes.

He narrowed his eyes, but she knew she had him wrapped around her finger.

He drew in a long breath and sighed it out before he spoke. “Fine..”

She smiled and pressed play, grabbing her food from the table as the title sequence for ‘Love and Monsters’ began to play.

[michaelfallcon]

Setting The Table At Communion Cafe In Richardson, Texas

In the futile battle against getting older, there is one defining moment from which there is no return, the final imbroglio: “do I try to stick it out in the city or accept my fate and move to the suburbs?” The schism is an ideological one; the thinking being that the city is full of life and culture, and the suburbs are boring—a place where folks go to bed early. A place dotted with chain restaurants. The same chain restaurants. Over and over. In Dallas, this has historically held true, but as with most cities still growing outward, the ideological divide no longer tracks one-for-one with city/suburb limits.

One such municipality having a bit of moment in that blurred space is Richardson, a Dallas suburb just a quick jaunt north up I-75. It has, for as long as I can remember, been where Dallasites go for really good dim sum, all manner of Mediterranean fare, and northern Indian food. It has never, historically, been a place to go for coffee. But that is changing, thanks to Communion Neighborhood Cooperative. Part co-working space, part coffee shop, part bar, part restaurant, Communion is Richardson’s place for all that is good (and also to work).

Communion is a collaborative effort between Tim Kahle (the founder and managing director of Communion Cooperative, the co-working side of the business) and Tim Cox and Kyle McAdams (the co-owners of the cafe side). Cox and McAdams are lifers in the Dallas coffee scene; four years ago when it looked like the coffee scene was just about to explode—Method had just opened, Houndstooth was about to move to Dallas, and Cultivar was opening its second location—Cox was heir apparent as the most likely (and arguably most anticipated) barista to open their own shop. But despite some of my more grandiose claims about Dallas besting Austin for state coffee supremacy, that boom never happened, and neither did Cox’s shop. Until now.

In the 7,000-square-foot former automotive shop in which Communion now resides, co-working and cafe life are kept discrete. This gives Communion the opportunity to serve not just those taking advantage of the 5,000-square-foot, members-only co-working area, but the public at large. It is through this division, Cox says, that allows Communion works its greater goal: building community. “We want to create an environment of shared ideas and shared experiences. We serve coffee, food, cocktails, we have a co-working community, we are an event venue—and we strive to do all of those things really well—but those things are not our product,” Cox states. “They are the tools we use to create what we feel our real products to be: community, experience, and culture.”

Cox and McAdams are on the front lines of this mission with the cafe side, where the majority of folks have their first exposure to what Communion is all about. Amid glossy, warm wood tones, roll-up windows, and mid-century modern-esque patinated brass, the cozy vibe inside Communion belies what is one of the most progressive (and in my opinion, best) coffee programs in the entire city. A multi-roaster, the Richardson cafe always has three roasters on offer—one local, one from Texas, and one from beyond—each for a three-month stint. In those three months, each roaster will spend a month on espresso, pour-over, and batch brew. This, according to McAdams, allows customers to try every roaster, “whether they are adventurous and enjoy all forms of coffee preparation or if they prefer to stick to one style of brew.”

And Communion actively seeks out new and exciting roasters to carry. In just their second rotation, they have already featured Sey, Maquína, and Houston’s Xela Coffee Roasters, each making their first Metroplex appearance on Communion’s concrete countertop, along with local favorites Oak Cliff Coffee, Cultivar, and Amarillo’s Evocation.

As a full-service bar (and one of the only ones in town with a few by-the-glass splashes of natural wine), Communion allows Cox and McAdams the ability to flex a bit of creative muscle and design fun PM-type drinks that a coffee shop-only establishment couldn’t. Think adult slushies like the frosé—which is exactly what it sounds like, frozen rosé—and the coffee slushie, which goes great with a float of your favorite spirit. But if a more traditional cocktail is to your liking, Communion’s whiskey-forward menu boasts 120+ whiskeys used to create unique imbibements to great effect, like the coffee-focused Skin Seed & Soil, featuring Buffalo Trace bourbon, sambuca, brandy, and house-made cascara and coffee bitters, all shaken together and served over a cold-brew ice cube.

As Cox stresses, all these offerings are mere tools to build Communion’s real products: community and experiences. With their all-day approach to service, Communion is able to provide a litany of events for patrons, many of which don’t often find their way this far north of downtown. Be they scotch pairings, coffee cocktails, pop-up dinners with guest chefs, or latte art throwdowns, community engagement is at the heart of what Cox, McAdams, and Kahle are trying to do with Richardson’s newest all-day hangout. And it’s working. After several months, Communion Cafe is busy from AM to PM, bustling with locals, many of whom have perfected the seamless transition from coffee to cocktail all from the comfort of the same booth.

With each passing day, that dichotomy between urban and suburban life is proving to be more and more false. As “the big city” becomes prohibitively expensive, folks are looking elsewhere to start their own endeavors, often combining efforts to create a single, multi-use space. And nowhere are the rewards of this reaped more than in the outlying areas. With places like Communion finding homes outside the city center, the suburbs—contrary to decades of thinking otherwise—do not suck.

Communion Cafe is located at 514 Lockwood Dr #5609, Richardson. Visit their official website and follow them Facebook and Instagram.

Zac Cadwalader is the news editor at Sprudge Media Network and a staff writer based in Dallas. Read more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.

The post Setting The Table At Communion Cafe In Richardson, Texas appeared first on Sprudge.

Setting The Table At Communion Cafe In Richardson, Texas published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

[epchapman89]

Setting The Table At Communion Cafe In Richardson, Texas

In the futile battle against getting older, there is one defining moment from which there is no return, the final imbroglio: “do I try to stick it out in the city or accept my fate and move to the suburbs?” The schism is an ideological one; the thinking being that the city is full of life and culture, and the suburbs are boring—a place where folks go to bed early. A place dotted with chain restaurants. The same chain restaurants. Over and over. In Dallas, this has historically held true, but as with most cities still growing outward, the ideological divide no longer tracks one-for-one with city/suburb limits.

One such municipality having a bit of moment in that blurred space is Richardson, a Dallas suburb just a quick jaunt north up I-75. It has, for as long as I can remember, been where Dallasites go for really good dim sum, all manner of Mediterranean fare, and northern Indian food. It has never, historically, been a place to go for coffee. But that is changing, thanks to Communion Neighborhood Cooperative. Part co-working space, part coffee shop, part bar, part restaurant, Communion is Richardson’s place for all that is good (and also to work).

Communion is a collaborative effort between Tim Kahle (the founder and managing director of Communion Cooperative, the co-working side of the business) and Tim Cox and Kyle McAdams (the co-owners of the cafe side). Cox and McAdams are lifers in the Dallas coffee scene; four years ago when it looked like the coffee scene was just about to explode—Method had just opened, Houndstooth was about to move to Dallas, and Cultivar was opening its second location—Cox was heir apparent as the most likely (and arguably most anticipated) barista to open their own shop. But despite some of my more grandiose claims about Dallas besting Austin for state coffee supremacy, that boom never happened, and neither did Cox’s shop. Until now.

In the 7,000-square-foot former automotive shop in which Communion now resides, co-working and cafe life are kept discrete. This gives Communion the opportunity to serve not just those taking advantage of the 5,000-square-foot, members-only co-working area, but the public at large. It is through this division, Cox says, that allows Communion works its greater goal: building community. “We want to create an environment of shared ideas and shared experiences. We serve coffee, food, cocktails, we have a co-working community, we are an event venue—and we strive to do all of those things really well—but those things are not our product,” Cox states. “They are the tools we use to create what we feel our real products to be: community, experience, and culture.”

Cox and McAdams are on the front lines of this mission with the cafe side, where the majority of folks have their first exposure to what Communion is all about. Amid glossy, warm wood tones, roll-up windows, and mid-century modern-esque patinated brass, the cozy vibe inside Communion belies what is one of the most progressive (and in my opinion, best) coffee programs in the entire city. A multi-roaster, the Richardson cafe always has three roasters on offer—one local, one from Texas, and one from beyond—each for a three-month stint. In those three months, each roaster will spend a month on espresso, pour-over, and batch brew. This, according to McAdams, allows customers to try every roaster, “whether they are adventurous and enjoy all forms of coffee preparation or if they prefer to stick to one style of brew.”

And Communion actively seeks out new and exciting roasters to carry. In just their second rotation, they have already featured Sey, Maquína, and Houston’s Xela Coffee Roasters, each making their first Metroplex appearance on Communion’s concrete countertop, along with local favorites Oak Cliff Coffee, Cultivar, and Amarillo’s Evocation.

As a full-service bar (and one of the only ones in town with a few by-the-glass splashes of natural wine), Communion allows Cox and McAdams the ability to flex a bit of creative muscle and design fun PM-type drinks that a coffee shop-only establishment couldn’t. Think adult slushies like the frosé—which is exactly what it sounds like, frozen rosé—and the coffee slushie, which goes great with a float of your favorite spirit. But if a more traditional cocktail is to your liking, Communion’s whiskey-forward menu boasts 120+ whiskeys used to create unique imbibements to great effect, like the coffee-focused Skin Seed & Soil, featuring Buffalo Trace bourbon, sambuca, brandy, and house-made cascara and coffee bitters, all shaken together and served over a cold-brew ice cube.

As Cox stresses, all these offerings are mere tools to build Communion’s real products: community and experiences. With their all-day approach to service, Communion is able to provide a litany of events for patrons, many of which don’t often find their way this far north of downtown. Be they scotch pairings, coffee cocktails, pop-up dinners with guest chefs, or latte art throwdowns, community engagement is at the heart of what Cox, McAdams, and Kahle are trying to do with Richardson’s newest all-day hangout. And it’s working. After several months, Communion Cafe is busy from AM to PM, bustling with locals, many of whom have perfected the seamless transition from coffee to cocktail all from the comfort of the same booth.

With each passing day, that dichotomy between urban and suburban life is proving to be more and more false. As “the big city” becomes prohibitively expensive, folks are looking elsewhere to start their own endeavors, often combining efforts to create a single, multi-use space. And nowhere are the rewards of this reaped more than in the outlying areas. With places like Communion finding homes outside the city center, the suburbs—contrary to decades of thinking otherwise—do not suck.

Communion Cafe is located at 514 Lockwood Dr #5609, Richardson. Visit their official website and follow them Facebook and Instagram.

Zac Cadwalader is the news editor at Sprudge Media Network and a staff writer based in Dallas. Read more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.

The post Setting The Table At Communion Cafe In Richardson, Texas appeared first on Sprudge.

seen 1st on http://sprudge.com

[sassysong-blog]

Prologue

Before going back to school to take a pre-law track, Dr. Carson May was a scientist who most commonly worked with building materials for houses, large buildings, and occasionally new and existing products for companies. They looked younger than they were, which served them well when looking at and applying to colleges for the third time in their life. They looked to be around 21 or 22, something like that, despite being 37. By 2024, at age 25, they had a PhD in Engineering Sciences. In the years to come, they had gotten a job in the science division of a new factory. After Best Buy had taken an offer to merge with a big box retail chain, these factories could be found in most large cities. 

Despite being involved primarily in engineering; they were fascinated with biomedical studies. Occasionally, hospitals would send concerns to the large factories about their medical equipment. Whether it malfunctioned or whether it required an added function to accommodate to people with particular needs, Carson was usually kept up to speed on everything if they didn’t have a hand in fixing it. They were a good communicator, a fast learner, and was very idealistic. When they talked with their mother, Penelope couldn’t remember certain things about their father. Some days, she couldn’t even remember his name, but she could remember everything that she had gotten out of her relationship with him. When they talked with their friend, Joyce, she couldn’t remember the particulars of part of her academic experiences, but she did remember everything she learned. Carson spoke with their closest co-workers in engineering, took them each out to lunch at least once, established friendly relationships with them, and learned more and more about what they remembered and what they didn’t. They had gained a positive reputation in their lab and office because of it. Carson made themselves easy to talk to, people came to confide in them on personal matters at times. But, in that, there was something interesting. Each person that they spoke to couldn’t remember entire years of their lives. In fact, further calculations indicated that the memory lapses had occurred in a span of a range of specific years. 2015-2020. It was as though their minds registered that those years had passed, and they’d all retained what they’d learned in that time, but they couldn’t remember any experiences, even forgetting friends they made during that time. One engineer couldn’t even recall having a child, but she did say that the baby was turning 3 soon because the date was marked on the calendar. Nobody remember who the president had been, any news events, and searches on the internet databases yielded nothing.

This wasn’t enough data to count as a full experiment, but it was fascinating to Carson to think that there was a possibility of so many people blocking out that much. Even for Carson, the only memories of those years were somewhere they couldn’t access them. It was sometime after they met Syeira, an intern who was set to work under them on a new kind of greenhouse. Syeira also couldn’t remember anything in the years 2015-2020 other than they’d passed. But, in working and talking with them, Carson’s thinking gradually shifted. Humans try to remain conscious of what they are doing and the events that are taking place in their lives day after day. Of course, nobody can remember everything, and of course there are people who simply take time for granted. On top of that, their minds may stray and become distracted, and they sometimes find themselves doing something without thinking about it. Perhaps they fidget, tap their feet, or drum their fingers on a flat surface. Carson began to ask the question, what if there was an object that could make someone do something without being conscious of it?

With countless hours of research and planning, they began going through materials that respond to touch and impulse. Plastics, rubber, sometimes metal. In the end, the main inspirations became light bulbs and the capabilities of smartphones. Carson was able to modify types of glass infused with subtle electric impulses. It took 26 attempts and days of countless lab work outside of their normal hours to perfect. Finally, two glass swans were shaped with a careful hand and produced as test subjects. Carson accidentally walked out of the lab with one of them, and couldn’t actually help keeping it around. This glass could’ve been a success, but it wasn’t. They shared their invention with the head of their department and several companies that produced appliances and toys, hoping an object that was able to somehow communicate telepathically with people who owned it. Anyone who set their mind to interacting with that object wouldn’t be able to put it down by virtue of the glass that it was made from. For people who fidget, for people who act on impulse easily, this would be a quick sell. But it wasn’t a fidget cube, it didn’t have the appearance of being fun. It looked like an object found in an antique shop, not a toy. The problem was getting rid of the object. Carson kept picking it up without remembering having done so, taking it places for no reason. Eventually, they were able to ditch the swan after Syeira packed it away. Carson completely abandoned the idea of it until 2030, the year they went back to school to begin the same year as Joyce, and the year they met their best friend, Miranda Rivers. She was brilliant and kind, and on the Pre-Law track just as they were.

Miranda was a good friend. She was dependable, easily stressed, and every now and again she had anxiety attacks. She made it through each one, but she still seemed to want to carry the world on her shoulders. It wasn’t through any fault of her own, she just needed people to understand how she was and help her the same way she was always willing to help others. The summer after she had graduated, she had decided to take the year off before going to graduate school. In the meantime, she had a job that she was excited to begin at a law firm near her apartment. She’d been at work for five weeks. Everything went to hell when she decided to go on a shopping trip, she was involved in a terrible accident.

Carson would never forget the day they left work early after receiving the distressing call from Miranda’s brother who’d been staying at her apartment for the week. “She was hit by a bus…”

July 20th, 2034. Due to the trauma she’d received, even when she’d mostly recovered, acute memory loss prevented any other day from passing for her. Every day was the same day despite different things happening. Her memory stopped and restarted day by day. Miranda’s brother was able to stay at the hospital for awhile, but had to leave, and eventually Miranda had even forgotten that he’d come in the first place.

July 20th 2034. After being there for a substantial amount of time, Carson was able to move her back into her apartment where she was able to spend days by herself with Carson checking in on her almost every day if work didn’t get in the way for them. They managed to program her phone to keep the date at July 20th each day for her. They didn’t want to spoil things, to give away what had really happened. 

One afternoon, before they were about to go and see Miranda, they received a package on their doorstep with no return address. It was about the size of a small suitcase and it was stamped with the logo of their old lab. It contained file folders of documents from their office. Plans they had, buildings they’d helped construct, some parts for old hospital equipment, and then a smaller box that Carson had almost missed. It was at the very bottom. The smaller box was completely white and sealed with shiny packing tape. Inside the smaller box was not one, but two glass swans. They panicked at the sight of them. Who could have done this? Could someone be watching them? A quick glance around the room, and their eyes fell on a digital clock. They were late. Where the swans had come from wasn’t important now. They had to catch a bus and go to see Miranda. They were halfway to the building before they realized they had pocketed one of the swans. Carson cursed under their breath, bit their lower lip, and breathed heavily through their nose.

They ran their fingers through their hair for the minimal comfort it gave. Who could have sent it? Why? How? It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter.

It. Doesn’t. Matter.

These thoughts rolled like film credits through Carson’s mind as they walked the familiar sidewalk to push the buzzer. The door clicked unlocked, they ran up the stairs to door #348, and they knocked to be greeted by arms thrown around their neck. Miranda had been waiting for them. Carson stood and hugged her for a while, feeling their muscles slowly relax.

“Tough day?” Her bright eyes and calm disposition made her easy to talk to.

“Kind of. I’m sorry I was late.” They ruffled their hair a bit with their right hand.

“No problem! I made some palmiers with frozen pastry dough. You can take the rest home if you’d like.” Miranda chattered on about the cookies and then about her day. It was the same kind of day she always had, and it was no less comforting to hear about. Carson didn’t bother mentioning all the palmiers that they already had from her. She made the cookies each time they visited. Carson replaced the dough consistently with some they’d buy on the way to her house.

Miranda put some of the cookies on her favorite blue plate with floral trim, and they sat on the couch with hot coffee and talked. She always dipped the cookies in her coffee before eating them. It was so satisfying to her. After an hour of the same conversations they’d had for days on end, the swan felt heavier in Carson’s pocket. It was like they were carrying ice that never melted. They became frustrated. Without knowing it, they’d reached in and taken in out.

Miranda squinted, and her eyes fell on the swan in their hand. Before she could say anything or inquire as to what it was, time slowed down. In a brief moment, they were angered by its presence. Get it away.

Get it away.

Get. It. AWAY!

Carson flung it straight at her wall in their uncontrollable frustration. It shattered into pieces on her carpet. Her eyes widened and she moved back in her chair. She looked up into their eyes, terrified, and her breathing became more audible and fast. Carson could see her chest rising and falling fast. Her anxiety was setting in and they had projected on her. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Carson put their head in their hands, turning away.

“No, don’t. Are you alright? Did I say something wrong? What can I do?” She put a hand on their back. “You know you can tell me anything.” Typical. She wasn’t going to let on how she was feeling about it. Her first reaction in that moment wasn’t to take a moment for herself, it was to worry about those around her.

There was broken glass on her carpet. Miranda Rivers didn’t like broken glass nor did she know anyone who did.

“You didn’t do or say anything wrong, I’m so sorry. I don’t know if I could explain if I tried.” Carson looked up and met her eyes.

Miranda looked as though she’d swallowed a lump in her throat and took both of their hands. “I’m not going to lie. Cards on the table, that was terrifying, but I am absolutely certain you’d never do anything to try and hurt me or anyone. You don’t have to explain any of this if you don’t want to, but I would feel better if you did go home and rest awhile. Please.” She looked more pained than they had ever seen her. She was beating herself up over this. 

Carson’s eyes closed in understanding. They lifted their hand to try and put it on her back “But what about the glass? I should clean it; it was my fault.”

“I’ll take care of it later on, okay?” Miranda’s tone hardened as she shrugged them away, then immediately softened. “Just focus on you awhile, right? That’s what you always tell me. Don’t worry, I’m only a text away.”

Carson bit the inside of their cheek and frowned “Me too, and you focus on you too, okay?”

“Okay, I promise. Just go. If I’m to take care of myself, I need some time. I care about you, I certainly do, but I know what it feels like when you’re in a bad place and things just build up.”

With that, Carson could only do what they were told.