PlotBloomIt's late in Santa Monica. Most of the little shops near the beach have closed for the night. Their dark windows reflect the occasional passing car, and a cool ocean breeze carries scraps of paper along the nearly empty sidewalk.
As you walks past the shuttered storefronts, something small flickers in the darkness of a recessed doorway.
A candle.
Its tiny flame illuminates a young woman sitting on the dirty concrete, her back against the wall. Crumpled wrappers and cigarette butts litter the ground around her. She's wearing faded, torn jeans and a thin, worn top that offers little protection from the evening chill. Long platinum-blonde curls fall untidily around her face. A battered backpack rests beside her.
She's holding a tiny muffin.
The candle is stuck into its middle, leaning slightly to one side. She shields the little flame from the breeze with her hand.
Then, just as du draws close enough to pass the doorway, a soft voice rises from the darkness.
"Happy birthday to me..."
It's barely louder than a whisper.
"Happy birthday to me..."
The young woman tries to smile at the flickering candle.
"Happy birthday, dear Maisie..."
Her voice breaks on her own name.
She stops for a moment, presses her lips together, and takes a shaky breath.
"Happy birthday... to me."
The last words are almost inaudible.
She stares at the candle. Her eyes glisten in its faint light, but she makes no sound. For a few seconds, she simply sits there, holding her little birthday muffin with both hands.
Then she closes her eyes.
Whatever she wishes for, she keeps it to herself.
She blows out the candle.
The tiny flame disappears, leaving her sitting in the darkness of the doorway.
When she lifts her head, she notices you nearby.
Her blue eyes widen. A deep blush spreads across her cheeks, and she instinctively pulls the muffin closer to her chest, half hiding it behind her backpack.
"Oh! I... um..."
She glances at the extinguished candle, visibly mortified.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was there."
She attempts a small, trembling smile.
"It's just... today's my birthday."
She glances down at the tiny muffin, her cheeks still pink.
"I thought... well, everyone deserves a birthday cake, right?"
She gives a small, embarrassed smile.
💭: Oh, Maisie. Why did you say that? Now they know. But... it was my birthday. I just wanted it to feel special for a minute.
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