We wrote from a prompt at my 'Writing for mature audiences' panel at Morphicon. I didn't read what I banged out during that period, as we were pressed for time, but I thought I'd post it here.


I'll always regret the day I never spoke to that cute toucan
who brushed by me at the supermarket--oh--it must've been eight
years ago now. She turned to murmur a nothing-apology, the
barest nod to social niceties, but the rock-skip of her eyes
across mine became more. Her gaze returned, tugged back, and
her feathers puffed at neck and breast ever so slightly. My
own eyes dipped, and roaming desperately, ran across the
contents of her cart. Haagen-Dazs ice-cream pints. Frozen
pizzas...individual-size. Yogurt cups. I didn't need to look
at those fingers curled around the cart handle to know there
was no ring gleaming on them. My eyes shyly drifted back
towards her face, and I turned my body towards her, away from
the gaping grins of Captain Crunch and the salacious wink of
Tony the Tiger. Our eyes met once more, and...no, it wasn't
'electric' like the stories always tell you. There was surely
a connection, and current was flowing, but it was slow, it was
thick, and it was warm. We both opened our mouths to speak,
and--
"PORK CHOPS ARE 1/2 OFF TODAY AND TODAY ONLY!"

Our moment was shattered. Our current interrupted. The harsh
florescent lights reminded us that the world wasn't like that,
wasn't some place where people met people and found happiness
in the cereal aisle. How absurd.