Page 36 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
Nora laughed softly. “Maybe I am.”
Lauren studied her for a moment. Then, quieter, more sincere, said, “Whatever it is you’re chasing out here… just make sure you’re doing it for you. Not because of whatever this place is stirring up.”
Nora hesitated. Then nodded. “I will.”
It wasn’t a lie. She just couldn’t explain that he was what the place had stirred up. Or that maybe it had all been waiting for her.
Gloria returned with their plates, and the moment broke like an egg on a hot skillet. They tucked into the food without further interrogation…mostly. Lauren still eyed Nora over her coffee like she was trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
They didn’t talk more about the night before. Instead, they made fun of the toddler in the next booth doing violent things to a pancake, and debated whether Miso could be trained as a familiar or was just born chaotic.
By the time they stepped out of the diner, the heat had sharpened. Nora squinted against it as they walked to the car. Miso refused to touch the asphalt and had to be carried like royalty.
As they drove back toward the house, the late-morning heat had taken on a syrupy thickness, slowing everything down. Lauren rolled down the window halfway, elbow resting on the frame, sunglasses tilted just enough to let her side-eye Nora between sentences of a story about her last art show.
Nora only half-listened. The desert flickered outside, boulders like bones, brush like brittle lace. It felt like they were moving through a painting of the world, not the world itself. Unreal. Thin around the edges.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Lauren said, voice mild.
“What thing?”
“Smiling like you’ve got a secret. It’s unsettling.”
Nora just smiled and turned up the radio.
Back at the house, the energy had shifted. Lauren packed slowly, her expression softening as she moved through the space like she didn’t want to leave something unfinished. Miso paced near the door, sniffing at every corner.
When it was time to go, Nora stood barefoot on the porch, watching her friend hoist her bag into the backseat. The desert wind lifted Lauren’s curls, made her hat flap once before she stuffed it into the car.
“I’m gonna worry about you,” Lauren said, leaning in for a hug. “That’s my job.”
Nora hugged her back, tight. “I know.”
They pulled apart. Lauren gave her a last once-over. “If you decide to go full desert shaman or whatever, at least send me cool rocks in the mail.”
“I’ll write cryptic poems on them. In goat’s blood.”
“Perfect.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just take care, okay?”
Nora nodded. “I will.”
Miso barked once from the passenger seat, then curled into a dramatic ball as Lauren started the car and pulled away, dust curling up in her wake.
Later, after Lauren left, the silence folded in again. It didn’t feel oppressive. It felt anticipatory. Like the house itself knew what came next.
Nora stood at the window as the sky began its slow lean into evening. The horizon trembled with heat. Somewhere beyond it, she could almost feel his breath stir the air.
The obsidian stone on the sill caught the light, just for a second, flashing like a signal.
She reached for it.
He was still out there. She could feel it. Like a string taut between her ribs, pulling just slightly toward the dark curve of the hills.
She didn’t want to wait anymore.
Not for signs. Not for dreams.
Tomorrow, she’d go.
