by Paul Liadis, Guest Writer
She writes her number on the back of my hand with a black magic marker.
Then she says hello.
We dance the way people at parties dance, a fast slow dance of an excuse to press our bodies together, to what passes for music at these types of things. Stuck in the middle with you.
When she speaks, she leans in close, the black tips of her blonde hair tickling my face, her hand soft on my shoulder.
I’ve read when a girl is really into you, she’ll take any chance to make physical contact.
I’ve only read.
I fetch her a drink, standing in line for an eternity, glancing her way, worried should she leave my sight she will disappear, ethereal.
I return.
I don’t go here, she says, between sips of her beverage. I’ll transfer, I say, joking, but not really.
With nods and a smiles, my friends leave. Her friends linger, inspecting me as they embrace her goodbye.
Time passes. We find our way into the cold.
Our night ends at the threshold of her friend’s building. Call me as soon as you wake, she says.
I tell her this is not the end of our tale. She nods.
I spend the remainder of the night in my bed, watching the minutes flick by.
Morning light peeks through the yellowing blinds of my bedroom and I clutch my phone, finding myself paralyzed by the idea of blemishing the perfect of yesterday with the unknown of tomorrow.
11 comments:
An oddly gentle piece, hinting at hope.
I think you've done a nice job of evoking a lot of different emotions (sexual attraction, anxiety, desperation, longing) and done a nice job revealing the character of the narrator.
This would be a nice intro to a young adult story. But it is also nice as it stands. Credible. Lovely to see a YA-type flash that doesn't rely on the F-word and barfing. So many do.
Very, very nice. A sweet story.
This is sweet and sensual at the same time. A snapshot of a perfect memory.
Beautiful in its simplicity. Evocative... and oh so relatable. :)
Thank you everybody for the kind words.
Thank you for reading it and taking the time to comment.
Paul
i like that your take on this delicate event. with all the strong emotional and physical forces working within a young man, there is a definite delicacy to the story as well, and you captured it well.
congrats.
Strong writing as ever. Nicely done, Paul.
Except OUR children will never experience this. They will stay SMALL forEVER and they will not cross the street by themselves until they are 92.
Thanks SzélsőFa :)
Aerin - too true, too true. Thank you for reading and for commenting. I'll be watching for an entry from you :)
Paul
This is beautiful, Paul. You've captured a firefly in a jar with this one.
And the last line is oh-so-true and perfect.
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