Felicity

| paints

[setting: fenced neighborhood]

September 21, 1993

"Mustard, Ketchup or both?"

He shrugged, not knowing if either one them tasted good with the hotdog that they had bought.

"Fine. Both."

She grasped for the two bottles, squeezing the contents onto the warm hotdog that lay on his hand. He stared at it. Hoping it would transform into something more appealing to his eyes.

"C'mon- I know exactly where to go."

They had bolted through the morning manifestation crowd, darting at every corner, faces being blown by the strong gusts of the wind. This is hectic, Lennon thought, I'm going to die running after her, but none the less he went onward. Not looking back.

They had ran across crossings, cars ready to crush the streets and possibly their beings. They had past a little community park which had a truckload of people that just wanted to enjoy the greenery. And finally Felicity steadied her paste as she entered an area of color. An area of paints.

"Over here."

She led them both to the side of a fenced area at the corner of two worn down buildings. It looked like she had already been here, Lennon thought. He studied the area as Felicity strut her hand between the cut fence, it hadn't really crossed his mind that this was a fenced area; that their was a padlock that his eyes had barely missed.

It was a restricted area.
But just before he uttered the first syllable of her name, she spoke in an expertise kind of manner.

"Don't worry," she grunted, ripping open the fence up and down, "I used to go here all the time, so I made this human hole using dad's gardening head shear, for me to fit through anytime, day or night."

He watched in speculation and fascination as she squeezed through the fence and to the other side, handing her hotdog to him just before she did.

She straightened herself, then smiled incredulously at Lennon.

"Your turn."

She reached through the fence, taking both their meals, handling them with all possible care.

"I don't think I can fit."

"Sure you can- you're just too tall. Just go on in."

Lennon crouched a little first strutting in his head, than the rest of his body.

"Told you Lennie."
"My name's Lennon."
"Okay Len-none."

She handed him back his afternoon meal, to which he was surprised wasn't turned into some sort of squash after all the running.
Lennon's eyes bolted up from his untouched hotdog-

"Lennon!"

Paints and colors. Faces and shapes. They were surrounded by two walls painted on by a variety of color pallets within the spectrum. Paintings of happy and sad expressions and what looked like trees and sunsets. They were surrounded by rurals.

He sped over to a set of stone staircases, leading to a higher level of the area. He came over to Felicity, seated on a bench, then sitting next to her.

"Pretty right?"
"Real pretty."
"I like pretty. It's a pretty place to eat our hotdogs," she spoke with a full mouth, sounding muffled and so sure.

"Sure is pretty." And with that Lennon devoured his New York City hotdog with a pretty girl in a pretty place.