Unopened, The Beginning (Part 9)

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Magnus

Member Laureate

since 2001-10-10

Posts 14135
South Carolina, USA

0 posted 2004-08-21 02:42 PM

Frogs, crickets, countless stars
Such a scene, so tranquil.

Alana lay there, her head in Jack’s lap, thinking of an encounter during a moment
of self pity.  How costly a moment.  One when a passionate decision was made in
haste as clothing flew in three different directions. Remembering the feeling...
where was the glow that was supposed to be?  Where was he, this man who
said so honestly, she thought, that he loved her and would stand beside her?

Her shame weighed heavily upon her even now.  Still uncertain that this man,
a warm and compassionate man would....  How many times had promises been
broken...made in a whisper as long hair sprawled the pillow beneath.  As a tear
stained the darkness of a smothered sob.   She felt so used, wondering
if she would ever find the love and commitment that she craved.  Now, she lay
there and...she wondered if perhaps she were her own problem, not THEM...

Them, she almost choked as she thought of it.  They seemed to all be alike....
Promise the world, take a priceless gift...and walk into the shadows...putting
another notch on their belt of conquered maidens...she began to quietly cry.

Jack could feel her shudder.  Sitting still upon the porch swing.  Softly rocking
to a tune of ages ago...humming in his mind.  He touched her shoulder, felt the
sudden tightening of her muscles.  What could be causing these emotions to
surface?  Afraid to ask,   he simply sat quietly...feeling certain that she would
speak at some point.  He knew he would be there for her, though he was
uncertain that she felt this as well.

“Jack?”   He could feel the intensity of the spoken word.  Knowing this
was a moment that he had to be most careful of how he came across to
Alana verbally and physically.

“Jack, why do you love me?”  “ What is so special about me that makes you
care?” “Why do you not just leave, as all the others have?”

Jack cleared his throat.  She had dealt a straight flush to herself...All he had
was a pair of threes.   How could he win?

He sensed it before he heard it....the phone ringing in the background....Should
he answer?  Or, should he just allow the answering machine to pick up, proving to Alana
she is more important than a stupid phone.

Alana raised up, feeling that Jack would rise and get the ringing phone.

iliana
Member Patricius

since 2003-12-05

Posts 13434
USA

1 posted 2004-08-21 03:15 PM

Poor Alana....but I understand. Such a sensitive and thoughtful poem. Now I'm wondering....okay, hurry up now, BJ, and get Part 10 down here, okay?

Sunshine

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-25

Posts 63354
Listening to every heart

2 posted 2004-08-22 08:34 AM

You've moved your poem to prose...
let the story continue...

Susan
Member Ascendant

since 2004-03-27

Posts 5104
walking the surreal

3 posted 2004-08-22 06:50 PM

Barry, this is good. Emotional. Suspensful. Have you thought of taking your talent to that of the novel? You would do very well, I believe.

Susan

Happiness isn't something that happens to you, it's created from within you. Joy is a state of mind.

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