A Thousand Perfect Notes

by C.G. Drews

He’d rather strangle himself with a piano string than tell her he’s into classical.

‘Why do you smell like coffee?’ ‘I love it so much I wear it.’

And you know what I love? Good grades. I love them so much I wear them – no, really. I’m going to make a dress for the prom out of all my A plus report cards.’

Beck wrestles with the preschool gate – the childproof latch is also adultproof due to rust and lack of funding.

‘Go away, Schwachkopf!’ ‘Whoa.’ August raises an eyebrow. ‘Did the preschooler just swear at me in German?’ ‘No, she only called you a moron.’ Beck takes Joey’s hand and charges across the road. ‘That’s unkind, Joey. Feel free to do it again.’

‘There are some people,’ the blueberry says, ‘that you hope will slip off the stage and break both legs.’ ‘I feel you on a spiritual level,’ Beck says.

‘I’ve tried to be nice about this,’ Beck says, ‘but I really can’t stand your face.’

At least he could drink to fill the black hole in his stomach. Water or water. Life is so full of fun options like that.

‘Your birthday? But it’s only July.’ ‘Yes, you genius. My birthday is in July.’ ‘But isn’t your birthday in, um, August?’ August groans to the heavens. ‘No! My parents aren’t that bad.’

‘I think you have more than nine dogs,’ Beck says. ‘Oh, I have nine dogs,’ August says. ‘My parents also have dogs. Then there’s the turtle and an aviary for the birds outside.’ She glances at the budgie. ‘Most of the birds,’ she amends. ‘There are a few cats and a goat, but we’re only babysitting the llama.’

No, he likes her because there’s sunshine in her eyes and she knows the secrets to smiling.