A Single Memory

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Grabbing a newspaper from the polished cart, Molly stood parallel to the mass of people all waiting to cross at Park Ave and 42nd St. Armed with a Starbucks coffee in her left hand, and a New York Times in her right, Molly stepped off the curb and into a scene of black-tie chaos. Having been an intern for Vogue for the last year rewarded Molly with the talent of multitasking. So, as she continued her walk to the office, she flipped open her paper and began to skim the front page.
Her eyes finally settled on the small article in the bottom right-hand corner. A young man who had just taken over his father's position of President of the Brighton Ins. Company had been killed. Apparently the company's helicopter had gone down somewhere in New Jersey, killing the man, and three others who also worked for Brighton. His name seemed to stick in Molly's brain like glue. A single black tear fell from Molly's eye as a memory almost two decades old flooded her mind.
It was the first day of second grade and after eating lunch alone Molly couldn't have felt worse. She contemplated why her dad had to work at a job that moved them around so much. But it wasn't that she minded the constant moving, it was having to start over just as she began to make friends. Molly had only been in school for two years and she had already attended five schools; and each one was harder to leave than before. But Molly's dad had assured her that the family was going to settle down for a while; his long business trips would be cut down, and she'd be able to live like a normal kid for a little bit.
Molly's dad had stuck two lollipops into the side of her backpack that morning. 'One for you, one for a new friend,' he said. As the class was let out to recess, Molly sat down on a swing and began to lick one of the lollipops. With her head slumped, she began to cry over why her father had put her in this situation yet again.
'Are you ok?' Startled, Molly threw head up, almost choking on her lollipop. She couldn't believe that someone had actually come over to talk to her. 'I'm ok,' she said to the boy as he sat down on the swing beside her.
'Well, you don't look ok,' the boy said.
Molly began to enlighten the boy named Tommy, all about how her father was making her start over at another new school. Tommy understood just how she felt because he had moved to town barely a month ago. Molly pulled the second lollipop out of her pocket and handed it to Tommy.
'Thanks,' he said with a genuine smile.
Molly and Tommy had stayed friends all through school. They always compared class schedules to ensure they'd be together at least once period during the school day. Movie night was every Saturday, although they usually just ended up talking the whole night. And after Molly's boyfriend had dumped her unexpectedly, Tom took his spot as her date for the prom. But, when they both left for college on opposite coasts, keeping in touch was harder then they expected. Molly couldn't even remember the last time she had seen him.
BEEEEPPPPPPP! Molly jumped spilling her entire coffee over her blouse. Jutting her head around, she found herself overwhelmed in a sea of honking yellow taxis. She didn't know how long she had been standing there in the middle of the crosswalk. Molly gulped, trying to swallow the now painful memory she felt through her body. She folded her paper, wiped her tear, and proceeded across the street as a flood of yellow taxis whizzed behind her.





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