Billy Jean walks down the wooden
stairs of her home. Her powder blue dress with white polka dot accents flowed
as she descended. She walked kind of on beat to the song oozing out of her ear
buds and into the empty space between her two ears. Inside the lyrics bubbled
around and found their way out of her mouth, every other word a slight mumble.
Billy Jean didn't know all of the words. She floated down the hallway to the
end table and opened the door to the drawer grasping the fake crystal knob. As she
pulled the drawer toward herself the aroma of wood chips and pine cones rose to
her nostrils. Billy Jean raised her arm instantly in reflex and let out two
rapid fire high pitched squeals which accompanied the propelled germs being
sprayed from her respiratory system. She was forever sneezing when she opened
that drawer. Eyes opened again after recovering from this ritual expulsion,
Billy Jean looked down to scan the contents of the drawer. Her fingers dug
around the loose paper clips, pens, batteries, and one old bottle of Zodiac
black nail polish. She grasped the ring that was entwined around what she
sought. Keys in hand Billy Jean continued down the hall and exited the front
door. Turning just as the song hit the chorus, Billy Jean inserted the house
key into the lock. She waited for the singer to finish the word on the beat,
and turned the key at the same time. Nodding and humming, she half skipped and
almost tripped to her Buick. She caught herself on the door, gave the handle a
tug and realized she hadn't yet unlocked it. Billy Jean pressed the button on
the key ring and released the car from a state of alarm. Door opened, Billy
Jean slid inside. As the song came to a close with its final drum beat, Billy
Jean slammed the door synchronously.
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