The Valetine Maker

They had been making cards for hours. Not a big believer in the whole late-stage-captialism-for-profit-show that the holiday had become, they decided to use what they had on hand to craft some love notes.

Their fingers were sticky with the remants of Elmer’s white glue and the top had not been screwed down properly. There were faint smudges along the creases of each card where the glue had picked up dust transfered from their fingers. Paper hearts littered the floor.

Outside, they could hear the pacific northwest rain hit the windows as dusk settled in, but they’d turned on the outside patio lights anyway. Light was life during the bleak February days.

The tea was hot. “This would be better with a cookie,” they thought, taking a sip. The Valentine Maker set the cup down, took off their glasses, unwrapped themselves from their blanket cocoon, and went to the kitchen.