Signs

"You're the prince to my ballerina. You'll feed all the people's parkin' meters. You encourage the eating of ice cream. You would somersault in sand with me." - Zero 7, Somersault (When It Falls) He stood on the rooftop staring at the sky. Every once in a while, he would side arm a pebble into the night. “Did you see that shooting star,” he asked as she came up behind him. “Yeah,” she said softly. “That could be our shooting star,” he said, a little nave hope still in his voice. “We could name it and everything.” “What would we name it,” she asked. “I don't know,” he said as he put his arm around her shoulder. “Like Optimus Prime or Snarf. Maybe Rio or Synergy. Like from Jem.” “We could call it The Misfit,” she suggested. “But, you know, it wouldn't be our star. Why would we want a shooting star, anyway? It's such a fleeting thing. A streak across the sky that doesn't even last 5 seconds.” “Yeah, but it's magical. It's white hot. It's passion.” “No,” she pulled her arm out from under his and pointed. “See that glowing neon sign out there in the distance? That sign has been there as long as I've lived here. As long as I've known you. I think that's our sign.” “What's it say,” he asked. “That's not important. What's important is that it's always there. It's comfortable. It's sure. It's steady. It's us. I don't want to lose that sign. I don't want to lose what we've always had. Do you get what I'm saying?” “What's the sign say,” he pressed. She sighed, “Live Nude Girls. All Nude. Live Nude.” “As opposed to dead nude girls?” “Yes, I suppose.” She paused, “I'm trying to be serious here.” He smirked and said, “So am I.” She tossed a pebble off the rooftop. He chucked his in the same fashion, mimicking her. He hoped she would notice. Hoped she would think it cute. She didn't react at all. “So what you're saying is,” he said, “is that I should really start dating strippers.” She chuckled and wrapped her arm around his waist, “Yes, I hear Cherry Apples is in the market for a new man. I've always said what you need more of are free table dances.” They stood for a moment staring into space. No shooting stars came. “I love you,” she said. “I love you, too,” he said. If only that were enough.