Story Time
I've had the impulse to write for the past few days now, and I took a few hours and wrote this.It's only two pages typed, please read it and leave comments. Thank you all. =D
He sat there and wondered to himself, he wasn’t sure whether or not he should move. I’m comfortable, he thought, I’m perfectly fine, right here in this chair.
He rose to his feet and walked through the high rise apartment overlooking the city. Glancing out the window for just a moment, he noticed children playing in the street. A group of them were chasing others with water balloons at their disposal around signs of all sorts, telling the speed limit or street name, others around corners and up door stoops, into the safety of their homes. Looking down the street, as usual, the Chinese girl was in the small but well kempt park. Checking the time, 10:00 a.m., she was keeping to her routine of feng shui. Interlacing her right arm with the corresponding heel, she dropped onto her left elbow and knee, and she brought her right leg parallel to her head. In a most graceful way, she dropped to savasana, laying her head on a small patch of grass, dropping her arms to her side lying still. Before walking away, he caught a glimpse of her suddenly rising to her feet and throwing her arms into the air and then moving through a series of yogic poses. Surya namaskar, the sun salutation. Maybe later. He made a mental note to call her to arrange when she was teaching her next class.
Continuing through the loft, a button was pressed releasing a high pitched squeal, the special kind that makes the hair on the back or your neck stand on end. After a moment of audile tension, a sweet voice that made most people smile, causing nostalgic memories of spring days with a slight breeze accompanied by a brilliant blue sky sounded over the answering machine. It made him remember the beach with her in the summer, those long talks and midnight walks they use to take, the surf at their ankles. They would sit under the stars and listen to the waves crashing, cascading up and down the shoreline. The wind in her hair, he remembered it all too clearly. He could still smell the special fusion of Aloe Vera and kiwi shampoo she used in her hair on her favorite pillow. He listened as he closed his eyes and thought of the waves, “Aidan, I want to go to the beach this weekend. Let’s just get into the Cherokee and drive, we’ll lay out blankets near the pier and we’ll wake up to the morning sunrise. Call me back when you get in. I love you. Wish you were here.” She was in Los Angelis, showcasing an art exhibit in the Los Angelis Museum of the Arts. He wasn’t expecting her back for two more days, until Friday.
Not in the mood to talk, he sent her a text message that said, “You pay for the gas, and it’s a deal.” He knew he’d be paying for the gas anyway, because she had always brought the food. He looked across the room and checked the calendar. June 28th, what a day to pick to go to the beach, I start my new photo series on Monday. Aidan laughed to himself at her choice of date because she always did this to him. Right before a huge project for the magazine was about to start, she would whisk him off on some vacation, which normally turned into an adventure of sorts. Looking over his shoulder onto the kitchen table behind him, he studied the blue and gold picture frame. Someone had taken a picture of the two of them, her striking green eyes and radiant brown hair flowing in the wind. She was looking off to the side, paying special attention to a flower that matched her beauty, or something of that sort. Aidan’s eyes were focused on the camera, you could tell because his intense but pale blue eyes stared right back into the viewers, his sandy blond hair matted to his head from swimming. She was sitting in his lap while he leaned against a tree, cradling her back. Anybody else would have thought she was looking at him, but he knew better. She was always cognizant of her surroundings. He thought how alike her hair was to the branches of the tree, as they were under a weeping willow. She had fallen in love with the tree, and would have brought it back to the apartment if she could have had her way. He remembered distinctly, her chasing down a teenager, asking him to take a picture for her, because she wanted to remember the tree for its beauty, but moreover, she treasured it for its strength. Weathered through years of gale winds and harsh rain seasons, the area surrounding had fallen victim to several hurricanes, the branches of other trees becoming debris along the coast. However, the weeping willow had survived. Perhaps that’s why she loved it so much, because it had been a survivor. She had always treasured items, people, anything more for strength than beauty, although the beauty helped.
Making his way to the kitchen, he opened the door to the refrigerator, and he suddenly forgot what he was looking for. Unsure of what he was up for, he grabbed a bottle of water amongst orange juice, milk, various sodas and beers. Never can go wrong with water. He gripped the bottle with his right hand and suddenly dropped the bottle, remembering the gash he had suffered days earlier while surfing. Eden had always made fun of Aidan for his injuries; he’d always forget he had them until he attempted something that required use of the part of his body that was injured. He knelt to the floor, grabbing the bottle with his right hand but quickly tossed it into his left. He twisted the cap off with his right hand, took a drink, and began walking back to his chair when he heard the knocker on the door sound twice. Walking to the door, he unlocked the top chain and opened it wide. He heard two loud sounds, like thuds from bags hitting the wood floor in the hallway. Eden flew into his arms and she said, “You’re buying the gas,” with a smile.
Clearly taken by surprise, Aidan looked into her eyes and called her a tease, and she kissed him lightly. “Why wait?” She looked puzzled at his question, and he repeated “Why wait? Let’s leave now.”
“But, I just got home.”
“Aren’t you always telling me home is where the heart is? Let’s go now. Pack a bag, and we’ll just go to the beach now. We’ll stay there through the weekend. Chris and Crystal are always telling us we need to visit them while they’re at the beach house. They’re not far from Tampa, maybe two hours tops.”
She kissed him again and said, “This is why I love you.” She moved into the bedroom, telling him while packing all about the amazing exhibits and people at the museum, and he secretly smiled to himself, I would’ve gotten up anyway.
“What’s up with the silly grin?” she asked, leaning her head in the doorway.
He shook his head and smiled again, “No reason. Just glad you’re home.”
He sat there and wondered to himself, he wasn’t sure whether or not he should move. I’m comfortable, he thought, I’m perfectly fine, right here in this chair.
He rose to his feet and walked through the high rise apartment overlooking the city. Glancing out the window for just a moment, he noticed children playing in the street. A group of them were chasing others with water balloons at their disposal around signs of all sorts, telling the speed limit or street name, others around corners and up door stoops, into the safety of their homes. Looking down the street, as usual, the Chinese girl was in the small but well kempt park. Checking the time, 10:00 a.m., she was keeping to her routine of feng shui. Interlacing her right arm with the corresponding heel, she dropped onto her left elbow and knee, and she brought her right leg parallel to her head. In a most graceful way, she dropped to savasana, laying her head on a small patch of grass, dropping her arms to her side lying still. Before walking away, he caught a glimpse of her suddenly rising to her feet and throwing her arms into the air and then moving through a series of yogic poses. Surya namaskar, the sun salutation. Maybe later. He made a mental note to call her to arrange when she was teaching her next class.
Continuing through the loft, a button was pressed releasing a high pitched squeal, the special kind that makes the hair on the back or your neck stand on end. After a moment of audile tension, a sweet voice that made most people smile, causing nostalgic memories of spring days with a slight breeze accompanied by a brilliant blue sky sounded over the answering machine. It made him remember the beach with her in the summer, those long talks and midnight walks they use to take, the surf at their ankles. They would sit under the stars and listen to the waves crashing, cascading up and down the shoreline. The wind in her hair, he remembered it all too clearly. He could still smell the special fusion of Aloe Vera and kiwi shampoo she used in her hair on her favorite pillow. He listened as he closed his eyes and thought of the waves, “Aidan, I want to go to the beach this weekend. Let’s just get into the Cherokee and drive, we’ll lay out blankets near the pier and we’ll wake up to the morning sunrise. Call me back when you get in. I love you. Wish you were here.” She was in Los Angelis, showcasing an art exhibit in the Los Angelis Museum of the Arts. He wasn’t expecting her back for two more days, until Friday.
Not in the mood to talk, he sent her a text message that said, “You pay for the gas, and it’s a deal.” He knew he’d be paying for the gas anyway, because she had always brought the food. He looked across the room and checked the calendar. June 28th, what a day to pick to go to the beach, I start my new photo series on Monday. Aidan laughed to himself at her choice of date because she always did this to him. Right before a huge project for the magazine was about to start, she would whisk him off on some vacation, which normally turned into an adventure of sorts. Looking over his shoulder onto the kitchen table behind him, he studied the blue and gold picture frame. Someone had taken a picture of the two of them, her striking green eyes and radiant brown hair flowing in the wind. She was looking off to the side, paying special attention to a flower that matched her beauty, or something of that sort. Aidan’s eyes were focused on the camera, you could tell because his intense but pale blue eyes stared right back into the viewers, his sandy blond hair matted to his head from swimming. She was sitting in his lap while he leaned against a tree, cradling her back. Anybody else would have thought she was looking at him, but he knew better. She was always cognizant of her surroundings. He thought how alike her hair was to the branches of the tree, as they were under a weeping willow. She had fallen in love with the tree, and would have brought it back to the apartment if she could have had her way. He remembered distinctly, her chasing down a teenager, asking him to take a picture for her, because she wanted to remember the tree for its beauty, but moreover, she treasured it for its strength. Weathered through years of gale winds and harsh rain seasons, the area surrounding had fallen victim to several hurricanes, the branches of other trees becoming debris along the coast. However, the weeping willow had survived. Perhaps that’s why she loved it so much, because it had been a survivor. She had always treasured items, people, anything more for strength than beauty, although the beauty helped.
Making his way to the kitchen, he opened the door to the refrigerator, and he suddenly forgot what he was looking for. Unsure of what he was up for, he grabbed a bottle of water amongst orange juice, milk, various sodas and beers. Never can go wrong with water. He gripped the bottle with his right hand and suddenly dropped the bottle, remembering the gash he had suffered days earlier while surfing. Eden had always made fun of Aidan for his injuries; he’d always forget he had them until he attempted something that required use of the part of his body that was injured. He knelt to the floor, grabbing the bottle with his right hand but quickly tossed it into his left. He twisted the cap off with his right hand, took a drink, and began walking back to his chair when he heard the knocker on the door sound twice. Walking to the door, he unlocked the top chain and opened it wide. He heard two loud sounds, like thuds from bags hitting the wood floor in the hallway. Eden flew into his arms and she said, “You’re buying the gas,” with a smile.
Clearly taken by surprise, Aidan looked into her eyes and called her a tease, and she kissed him lightly. “Why wait?” She looked puzzled at his question, and he repeated “Why wait? Let’s leave now.”
“But, I just got home.”
“Aren’t you always telling me home is where the heart is? Let’s go now. Pack a bag, and we’ll just go to the beach now. We’ll stay there through the weekend. Chris and Crystal are always telling us we need to visit them while they’re at the beach house. They’re not far from Tampa, maybe two hours tops.”
She kissed him again and said, “This is why I love you.” She moved into the bedroom, telling him while packing all about the amazing exhibits and people at the museum, and he secretly smiled to himself, I would’ve gotten up anyway.
“What’s up with the silly grin?” she asked, leaning her head in the doorway.
He shook his head and smiled again, “No reason. Just glad you’re home.”