The love of Mary Macdonald’s life was dead.
She had been, for years. But did Mary know that? Did Mary know anything about her love? Her whole life? Did she know where she went to school? Did she know that scarred brunette boy who she sometimes sees at the record store? Did Mary even know why she kept replacing the vase of lilies on her window sill every time they wilted?
“Obliviate”
No, she didn’t. She hasn’t known any of that for a while.
Mary was out on a walk to the flower shop down the street from her home, it was right next to a record shop, she usually went in before she got her flowers, but today she decided on going to the florist first.
Now with her vase of lilies, Mary wandered through the record store. The brunette boy was there, he looked familiar.. a face she should be able to place. When she thought about it too hard, the brunette’s face blurred a little and it made her head ache.
The boy— his name was Remus, she’d learned —glanced to the flowers she had in her arms and he looked to have gone a bit pale, as if the flowers had disturbed him in some way.
He disappears for a moment, coming back with a record.
Fleetwood Mac?
“You should get this one.” Remus said, holding it out.
Mary had heard his voice enough times to have it not bother her anymore, at first it made her head ache, as if it was trying to remember something that her memory no longer had access to.
Mary bought the record. She wasn’t even sure why, she had never known herself as someone to listen to Fleetwood Mac. Maybe she had liked them in another life..
She had an urge to play it, so she made herself some tea and sat it down on the coffee table before taking the new vinyl out of its casing.
It was a good album, she felt like she was reminiscing. What she was reminiscing of, she had zero clue.
Then ‘Silver Springs’ started to play and Mary’s head began to ache. Getting up, she went to go and turn it off, her gaze falling upon the vase of lillies.
An image of hair flashed through her head, and suddenly it wasn’t Stevie Nicks singing anymore. It was a much lighter voice, clearly just having fun with the song and not putting much effort into it.
Mary put a hand on her head, squeezing her eyes shut tight, she didn’t think the song was bad, so she wasn’t sure why it hurt so much.
A pale girl with red hair dancing around to the song, hands holding Mary’s.
It felt so.. warm. Mary wanted to revel in it forever, she wanted to drink up whoever this girl was and cherish her for life.
But when Mary looked at her face, it was.. blurry? It was the same blur that overtook Remus from the record store’s face whenever she tried to think too hard about who he could be.
Then she didn’t seem to be in the moment, she felt like she was watching herself from a third person view. Mary had never seen herself so happy as she’d been with the ginger girl.
Mary looked younger too, as if she’d been in school during this. She had to be hallucinating, she was going crazy.
Her eyes forced themselves open, she was in her living room, the record playing in-front of her, spinning consistently.
“Must’ve been some stupid daydream” Mary mumbled, looking in the mirror, although she could’ve sworn she’d seen a speck of ginger hair behind her.