They waited in stiff plastic chairs, facing each other under the Yucatán sun, two romanti-cynics wondering silently how best to kill an indefinite amount of time. (The perfect crime…) They stared at the clouds over each other’s shoulders. They stared at the dirt between their feet. She crossed her legs, right over left. A truck rumbled and growled into the gravelly potholes on the street next to them. The girl bothered to look up. Negligibly, the driver glanced back at her, then continued his gaze down the jolting lane. They kept waiting. Darting across the rockpile behind the boy’s chair, a gecko taunted their impatience. They stood up and followed it around to the other side. It was afraid and ran into a teeny little crevice, as lizards like to do. The boy sat back down, disappointed with the brevity of adventure. Before resuming her spot, kept warm by the sunlight, the girl plucked a hibiscus flower from its branch. She slowly and methodically dissected the flower, pulling out the stamen and making a lewd comment to the boy. She was a pornographer-botanist. With finality, she crossed her legs, right over left, and tossed the fuschia petal pieces to the ground. They floated a little before landing. Then the truck came back, the same way it had come before. The girl looked up again. The driver saw them watching the sky, the dirt. This time, there was an array of broken rosy fragments strewn between their feet. They would later be eaten by Kukulkán.
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