Rachyl deposited the two empty beer bottles in the recycling bins scattered along the sidewalk and tossed her apple core and orange peels into the trash beside it.
She picked up her lunchbag and the crate and headed back to her apartment.
"The fire department display was nice, if short, and some of those cops were awfully cute in uniform," she thought to herself as she climbed up the rickety stairs.
On her door hung an invitation for a party Monday night at some Gardens in the city. She decided to go on the off chance she might meet some new people, "Although I don't think it could be as interesting as my first meeting of Meegan and Veronica," she thought, and felt her body warm slightly.
She tossed the hat onto the couch, and the crate next to her "bed" then lay down facing the ceiling. She kicked off her shoes, took off her shirt, and slid the icepack between her breasts, hoping it would keep her cool for a nice nap.
(( Rachyl out, please lock. ))
Independence Day Parade
Rachyl took inventory of her little milk-crate seat.
Two beers on icepack, in her little thermal lunch bag. A couple oranges, an apple, and some sunscreen. Wide-brimmed hat, comfortable.
She tied her hair back in a haphazard ponytail, pulled the hat on over, and picked up her little "bundle." She tugged at her Stars-and-Stripes top to straighten it, and dug in her blue denim shorts' pocket for her doorkey.
Locking the door behind her, she tromped down the stairs of her building and out to the sidestreet, then out to the Strip.
The sun barely peeked above the apartments, bodegas, and assorted small stores along the wide street, but people were filling in along the sidewalks nonetheless. Hot dog vendors took up residence on every other corner, and a couple white vans were visible on side streets filling balloons. Parade marchers gathered at the far end of her block, stretching as far down the street as the growing crowds.
She upended her crate, trapping the lunch sack beneath, and squeezed a dollop of sunscreen into her palm. She briskly rubbed it into arms, face, neck and chest, paying special attention to her cheekbones, ears, and lips.
Glancing at the clock tower of the church diagonally across the street, she noted the time as 9AM, clasped her hands above her head, stretching, then settled in.
She imagined the display wouldn't compare to the ones she'd seen in Philly - what with the Mummers and all - but she was still going to enjoy her patriotism and celebrate in her new adopted home.
Rachyl
19 years ago