People say the best friendships are formed by weird questions I have to tell you this friendship was definitely not the case. At all, I mean who asks a person about tacos. Apparently she did. I don't know if you believe friendships are formed by weird questions well I'm here to give you the reality. That's not what happened here. No friendship was formed it seemed as though we were further apart.
Not that we were close in the beginning.
~ ~ ~ ~
That dream has thrown me off course. I couldn't exactly focus for all I knew I could be drawing an orange lake above the blue tree. Apparently that's what I was doing for the girl's voice came back.
"I'm Bia." She spoke from behind me.
"And I should care why?" I asked, I suppose it was rude but I just wasn't in the mood.
"Bia" snorted,"Look who's grumpy."
I rolled my eyes, they were a dark hazel color, like my father. My eyes were cloudy sometimes mixed with white. A sign that I was blind. Apparently Bia didn't notice.
"Your lake is orange and above the tree that's blue you think you could change it?" Bia asked me.
That's when I snapped,"I won't change it, because it's my artwork not yours!"
There was a silence after that, and I knew I should have felt bad yet, I didn't. The thing was Bia was convoy complaining about my artwork while it was not her's. I return back to stroking my brush across the painting, not knowing what I was going to paint next all I knew was that I should go with the flow. I should've know the silence wouldn't last long.
"Do you like tacos?" Her voice asks once again, I rub my temples clearly annoyed.
"Why do you want to know that?" I ask curiously. Screw curiosity killed the cat.
"I just want to know. So once again do you like tacos?" Her tone has changed, almost exasperated.
I begin to mull it over in my head, I know it shouldn't be a hard question but I couldn't help thinking it over. Tacos reminds me of the time of when I was six, back when I could see.
"More tacos coming your way!" Dad laughs his brown eyes sparkling. Mom try's to smile munching on a taco, I laugh as I watch taco sauce dribble down her chin. Dad comes over carrying a plate full of tacos upon seeing mom's taco sauce face my dad almost dropped the tacos.
"Honey you got a little something..." Dad trails off as he sees mom unsuccessfully try to get rid of the taco sauce.
That sends me into another fit of laughter.
"Yeah I like tacos." I answer Bia's question.
"Good!"
Next thing I know I'm walking down the streets of Maryland towards a little restaurant Bia's parents own.
Crap.