Northgate Mall Food Court (Or, The Last Time I Texted Sadie)
Hey, remember that quote about like … loving someone is looking at something together?
Instead of looking at each other, you mean?
Yeah, that one!
Kind of a cliché but yeah, I know the quote.
Well that’s rude.
Why? It’s not like you’re the one who said it.
I was trying to be romantic.
Hard to do from 4,000 miles away …
Is that how far it is?
I googled it.
We can still be romantic.
Like, you text me what you see and I text you what I see and its like we’re experiencing something together for the first time.
Except I’m in Durham WHERE YOU GREW UP and you’re in fucking Morocco.
But like, I could see it with new eyes.
Can we try it?
Fine. You start.
Okay. I’m at the market. The walls are thick. They smell old. And they’re painted the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen. Like Carolina blue, but softer, like you could float away in it. And there’s a man selling these bags of powdered dyes – magenta, olive green, saffron yellow, the richest deepest black, like soil, like the most beautiful flowers could grow out of it. But the man, he’s wearing just this plain brown robe. And there are people everywhere… the colors are dizzying … it’s like being in the center of a painting.
I’m at the food court at Northgate Mall.
Um. Okay ...
There’s a Subway sandwich in front of me. The people next to me talking about is the chicken from Tomo Japan gone bad or is that just the sauce.
What do you want me to say? Outside the moon is rising and the sun is setting and dawn is coming and so is spring and all the good things, etcetera.
You aren’t here and if I was you, I wouldn’t ever come back.
You don’t want me to come back?
That’s not what I said
Yes it is.
You implied you didn’t want to be in Durham when you left it.
Do you know what imply means?
I love you.
All I’m saying is if I was you, I wouldn’t come back.
Dye your hair magenta and wrap yourself in one of them tapestries and be Morocco, you know. Be free.
My subway sandwich is getting cold.
Subway sandwiches are always cold.
Not if you get the meatball kind.
I didn’t know you liked meatballs.
I didn’t know you liked Morocco.
What? That doesn’t even make sense.
You say meatball, I say Morocco.
Mark, are you high?
But I would be, if I was in Morocco.