"Leashed"

"Leashed"

“…and that’s why Max and I don’t wear the collar,” she said pulling the cigarette from her puckered red lips, propelling a ring of smoke from her, “I can’t be bothered with that kind of pressure.”

“But you guys are seriously dating, doesn’t it worry you? He could go out with his friends and you’d have no idea where he is. He could be pursuing an activity on his own during Couple's Hour. Aren’t you afraid?,” Dee said, leaning forward in her chair.

Dee had fiery red hair that spewed from her head in wild angles, with hints of bleach blonde streaks sprouting here and there, giving the illusion that she did not have hair at all, but she was constantly ablaze with glittery reds, oranges, and bright whites.

“Couples Hour,” laughed Ramona, rolling her eyes to the sky and shaking her head, as if to shake the idea from existence, “is the most ridiculous idea anyone ever created. I don’t even understand why we need a Dating Council. Wasn’t there ever a time where you could see someone… You know, hang out and enjoy each other’s company without having to track their movements and thoughts? Couples hour is just to meet your damn RQ for the week. Hell, since Max got that new job our ‘would be’ quota has been down for weeks, but I’m the person he lays his head down with and I’m the person he leaves lunch for every day… So what if he works through dinner, so what if he wants to meet up with his buddies?”

Dee shook her head and sighed,  taking a swig of  the warm and smoky amber ale she always used to love, “I know. But, I don’t know. I’m seeing a new guy tonight and he seems pretty chill. Moreover, he likes me. The letter said he would be a good match for me.”

“You still read those letters? They still haven’t caught on to Max and I so I get those letters weekly. My apartment is getting audited next month for signs of a significant other since it’s been 3 months. Can’t a girl be a good ole fashioned spinster anymore?,” replied Ramona.

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? Being alone? That’s just about the worst fate I can imagine.”

“Is it so awful to be alone? Is it so awful to think that you can enjoy your own company and do your own activities without wearing a shock collar and reporting to the mister every hour?”

Dee tossed her head from side to side, “Yeah, I get you. That’s more or less my mentality, but I get the feeling that if I’m going on a date with this guy who deems himself ‘Mr. Right’, I’m not going to be just meeting a new buddy.”

Ramona held up her brown bottle with an inviting smile, “Well, here’s to hoping he is.”

They clinked their bottles together and chatted until it was supper time—time to meet the “Man of her Dreams”, or so the letter said.

Dee had never thought of the possibility of being alone. No one was really alone in this society—and no one in relationships didn’t wear collars. She straightened out her bright red tank top, tight in the bust and flowing from the rib cage down, crashing like a fiery waterfall at her waist. She had a tattoo on her shoulder, a circle with a curved line down the middle, and two eyes staring back at each other—a tattoo signifying her hope to meet the person that filled and completed her—her other half.  As she walked along, her conversation with Ramona ran through her mind…Did she have another half? Was this going to complete her? Make her happy? She’d never progressed in a relationship enough to wear the collar and she thought that was all that would satisfy her needs. Endlessly, she plodded along the city streets, each clunk on the pavement with her 3 inch heels a tick-tick-tick counting down her time allotted to herself--but she didn’t know that yet.

Now, six years later, she is sitting on the couch with this man she had come to know as her husband, as much as she can get to know someone with as much personality as a blank piece of paper, waiting for someone to etch some color on them.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and as she opened it, her collar blinked orange and a voice came from the device, “New message from Ramona Debille—Hey, it’s Wednesday! It’s our night to hang and I haven’t seen you in weeks!”

Johnny tilted his head toward her and glared her as if to say, “are you kidding?”