During the month of November, I did my best to follow a daily writing challenge, and while I lost steam a bit, I wrote what I thought were pretty good pieces! This piece is based off of the first prompt, “crisp air.”
Lilith Abernathy’s favorite time to roller skate outside was fall, second to Spring—those in-between seasons where it wasn’t too hot and your wheels didn’t melt in the trunk of your car, and where it wasn’t too cold and you couldn’t even feel your toes.
The roller derby champion skated from her room to the apartment entrance, then to the elevator, and finally to the front of the building. No one stopped her, no one came out of their apartment and told her she was causing a ruckus—and if she did, she ignored them.
She slid down the railing on her butt and landed carefully at the bottom of the stairs. Her friends would not be pleased to learn she was doing this, especially with little protection. But they weren’t around today. Today was her day.
She took a full, deep breath, making sure to fill her lungs. “Breathe so deep you make your toes pop,” her dad would say when she was having trouble concentrating. “Focus on your breathing, make sure you’re dusting out those cobwebs in your brain.”
That last part never made any sense to her, but she did it anyway. The last few weeks had been stressful—the roller derby team taking a break for the season, causing Lilith to lose one of her stress-relieving outlets; the band, still overwhelmed with the upcoming battle of the bands and the constant ego battle (thankfully, as their manager, she didn’t have to do any performing aside from the occasional backing vocals, but it was still a lot to witness); and finally, work. There was nothing specifically wrong, just the joys of being a manager at a thankless job, serving mediocre coffee America’s working class.
She took in another deep breath, then started off. She didn’t have a direction, a plan in mind. All she had was her backpack, a water bottle, and her headphones. She just let the groove of the sidewalk and the wind guide her.
Another reason why fall was her favorite type of weather to skate outdoors was the air. God, there was something special about that air—a mix of trees and wet pavement and anticipation for the coming holidays (mainly Christmas). It was a cold that went deep inside her body, a sensation she only got once a year. If the air was too chilly, for she was only wearing shorts and an oversized sweater, she could simply roll into a patch of sun, where it was still warm enough to ease the goosebumps off her flesh.
She stopped at a particular sunny patch and tilted her face up to the sun, closing her eyes and letting the warmth wash over her. Then, she sped off again, weaving through the myriads of pedestrians she saw going about their day to day. It was times like these where it really dawned on her that there were other people in this city, leading their own lives, going through their own troubles.
And they all had their own ways of dealing with those troubles—sex, art, food, exercise, media, anything.
She smiled as she skated by, reaching the nearby park. By now, the crisp autumn air was burning her lungs. It was perfect.
She stopped her groove and looked up at the park. Goddamn, the trees were fucking gorgeous. She started her movement again, going faster now that there were less people nearby. That was her third reason for loving autumn—better atmosphere. The reds and oranges and yellows passed her by like a messy watercolor, like a phoenix in flight. She spread out her arms, her skates her wings, the pavement her sky.
She slowed down a bit, doing a few spins and dance moves to the tune of a nearby Bluetooth speaker. Being on the roller derby team meant that she didn’t get to do a lot of jam skating, so this was a welcome moment.
Maybe I can do this during the off season, she thought, spinning again and easing into the splits, to the applause of the owners of the speaker. Come here and jam skate? Or go to the rink and do some laps, keep in the habit?
She carefully raised herself up into a standing position and looked at her watch. 3:30. She still had time before band practice tonight, but it might be best to head back, so she had time to pack up and prepare.
A notification on her watch stopped her.
Heyyy, we’re thinking of moving practice to 7 pm tonight, is that okay? Wanted to check w u.
Furrowing her brow, she scrolled up to see who the sender was.
Alex.
Well, she thought, at least he’s doing better at communicating. Alex had a bad habit of making band decisions without her, their actual manager.
No worries!! She typed back. I have some stuff to do anyways. Thx for letting me know!! 🙂
She smiled and put her phone back in her pocket, then went back to her spins and twists, her grooves and dips, moving through the light, fresh autumn air.
E. A. Young Writes 