Flamingos @ MindSay 
Katie stepped out the door with only condoms and change in her jean pockets, a copy of The Catcher in the Rye under her arm. She had her pink-checkered sneakers on and she bird-hopped over a puddle to avoid splotching their delicate print, her soles noiseless, her matching pink coat-tails flowing behind her. Pink was her favorite color ever since she remembered seeing the flamingos at Marine World when she was little. Her mother had led her by the hand to the edge of the enclosure and she'd peered, white faced and eyes round, over the fence as the flamingos stood long-legged and ostentatious in the sun. They were different from other birds. Flamingos were colored only by what they took in. They sapped spineless pink shrimps, leaving only hollow shells. Then their plumage bloomed into a rosy glow. Without it, they turned snow-white and simple.
It was March, but it felt like February. The white lay like a spread quilt barely covering the dirty hairs of grass underneath, the drifts the swells of a body under sheets. Reed would be waiting for her. She hurried her pace to round the bend of the street that cut a black lariat through the white landscape, and she never looked back. She never looked back because she was never going back.
She saw Reed's round face in the foggy window of the boxy old Cutlass, exhaust steaming from the tailpipe as he waited just where he'd said he would. The car hummed as he sat with the engine on. He coughed. "Hey, let's go," she said. She stopped in front of the car.
The snow misted lightly.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his breath hanging in the air.
Her eyes widened, the whites like eggs in their sockets, the grey irises pale, clear yolks. "Baby, I love you," she said.
He peered over the dashboard at her, at her see-through eyes, crooked lips, and her cheeks glowing rosy. Down the sweep of her body, her proud, puffed chest as she stood long-legged in the sun, a drop of pink conspicuous in the brightest white. She looked at him hard, and he looked back harder, the wreaths of breath wringing from his mouth. He looked until it was hard enough that his eyes lost focus, everything slowly melting, and she faded into ordinary, tablecloth white.
Playing? Sweet Caroline. Neil Diamond.
PS - Rough draft, and there needs more.
PSS - title?
After some essential grocery shopping and laundry, we boarded yet another Turbus Tuesday night, trading the (comparatively) balmy breezes of Iquique for the cooler "antiplano" climate of San Pedro de Atacama, a small desert community nestled between soaring volcanoes on the Bolivian/Chilean border. Weary from travel and finally accustomed to the economic practice of sleeping on buses, we were startled awake when the bus pulled unexpectedly into a dark security station a few hours into our journey. Shaking off sleep, we stumbled out of the bus and were immediately surrounded by security guards, who proceeded to perform a thorough search of the bus, luggage, and passengers. Though familiar with the customs procedure, we were confused because our journey did not involve a border crossing; I was later informed that we were likely being searched for drugs, considering the region`s thriving cocaine industry. Fortunately, the bus was permitted to continue, and after a brief transfer we arrived in San Pedro just as the sun was rising.
At first glance, San Pedro, a community of less than 1,000, appears small. However, after lugging our duffels and suitcases down countless dirt roads we realized that we would have plenty to explore. Thus began the quest to book tours. We surveyed our options, met up with a few friends, consulted a few guidebooks, and were eventually able to negotiate three days worth of affordable tours. After a brief look around the city, (San Pedro's cathedral was constructed without the use of a single nail,) we were herded into a sturdy looking 12-person van, ready for our initial exploration.
Tour 1 included photo stops at Valle de la Muerte (Valley of Death) and Valley de la Luna (Valley of the Moon, referred to as "the loneliest place on Earth") both of which are popular testing sites for lunar spacecraft due to their moon-like conditions. Our next stop was a national reserve, where we were able to photograph numerous rock formations and try a little spelunking (head lamps provided.) Much of San Pedro's desert is comprised of salt deposits, and streaks of rough salt streaked the inside of the caves. Emerging from the caves, we were invited to scale an enormous sand dune, thus obtaining the optimal viewpoint to enjoy the setting sun reflecting off the nearby mountain ranges. As glowing reds and warm golds turned to icy purples, our guide pointed out several active volcanos visible in the distance. Though all valiantly attempted to capture the wonder of the desert sunset, pictures just can't do justice.
Tour 2, "A Day in Bolivia," began at sunrise our second day. After a brief bus ride to the border, the six of us survived customs and piled into the back of a freezing cold jeep, anxious for our first glance at another "off-the-beaten-path" country. Though no one was anxious to brave the 12 degree (Fahrenheit) wind chill at our first scenic overlook, turquoise Laguna Verde, our subsequent stop at volcanic hot springs was much more well-received, and we eagerly joined a few other tourist groups thawing their feet in the steamy mineral water. Anticipating only the three lakes promised on the tour brochure, I was thrilled to see steam pouring from the ground when our driver pulled off the road unexpectedly. My sole experience with geysers was on a family vacation to Yellowstone National Park years ago, and it was nice to get another whiff of sulfur. After lunch and some interaction with the local llamas, we proceeded to our final destination, Laguna Colorada, characterized by its bright pink water (tinted by algae,) and correspondingly bright pink flamingos! Though three species of flamingos frequent Laguna Colorada, we were satisfied to see several members of one species relaxing among the ice chunks on the lake. 3 rolls of film later, we returned to make tea and sleep before our 4am geyser tour the following morning.