Funny Feelings

by Tarah DeWitt

You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it. —ROBIN WILLIAMS

He’s not my rock, he’s my hammock. He holds and cocoons me in the shade on a summer day.

“I’ve got a funny feeling this is the start of something great.”

“God, you’re pretty like this, Fee.” She opens heavy lids and smiles drowsily at me. “What? Topless and quiet?” “No. Satisfied and on top of me.”

“You didn’t want me to have the secrets, did you?” he teases, squinting at me. “You wanted me needy, begging for it, didn’t you? You’re high on power.”

But something catches my eye, right there along his upper thigh. “A tattoo?” I smile. “You’re certainly packing surprises, aren’t you?” But then I realize what I’m looking at. An umbrella. Watercolor splatters in the ink, bright flowers raining from its canopy. “Meyer—” “It’s the tattoo you gave Hazel the first time we met. That little temporary one? I only had a picture of it on my phone, so I don’t know if it’s exact or not. I got it in … Vegas. I got it for you.” He swipes his thumb across my bottom lip. “Fee, I was so fucking lonely before you found us.”