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She sits quietly...part two
| Passions in Prose |
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She sits quietly...part two |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia 
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He had been a casual friend in college, offering her a smile and a hello in passing, but nothing more. She never could quite remember his name, but his slight accent still rang in her ears after all these years. Nothing she could pinpoint, but perhaps Persian or Arabic? Still, she could remember the sound of his name rolling off the tip of her tongue. A pleasant sensation, she recalled. Something like ‘sighed,’ only stretched out a bit longer. His warm brown eyes and dark olive complexion had contrasted starkly with her own paleness as they shook hands in the hallway the day they first met. That moment was embedded in her memory as vividly as the sight of a fraile pastel flower blooming atop hot desert sands. Yes, she remembered him. And the memory was sweet. But this chance meeting in a restaurant was just that, an encounter that was merely a brief passing moment in time. And as sweet as the memory was of this‘sighed’one, the memory of her recently departed love was too great to allow herself even a moment’s fantasy. With her head tilted to one side, she smiled and greeted him graciously, but without warmth. He smiled in return, offering her such a soft warm smile it nearly overpowered her carefully protected demeanor. And when they went their separate ways, she sighed in relief. Three days went by, and she had forgotten this chance encounter. Life was Monday through Friday, nine-to-five for her, with weekends visiting family and friends,taking in an occasional art exhibit or concert as time allowed. Mondays merged into Fridays and then back again, the cycle never taking time off for fantasy. Sandy just wouldn’t allow herself to share her emotions anymore. After Mark had died, she kept her feelings locked up so tight even her family and friends could not break through the stone wall that was her heart. No, she had loved, had been loved, and was not open to loving again. Once was enough, she thought. And most people will never know the kind of love she had enjoyed with Mark. So it was with this resignation, this attitude she chose to pass her life away for nearly a year. It mattered not that her friends said Mark would have wanted her to move forward, to love again and be loved in return. No, she had already closed off the emotional door to her heart, and was content, if not happy. Saturday morning, she chose to visit an art gallery. Coincidentally, it was near the very same restaurant where she had run into ‘sighed.’ Her day was open and free, as her family was out of town, and most of her friends were already booked up with family activities. Jenna and Martie had each married after graduating, and as children came quickly thereafter, they filled their days with activities geared mostly to three year olds. Sandy was on her own today, with no one around to share time but the art gallery staff. And that’s exactly how she wanted it. She enjoyed her solitude, as it gave her a sense of comfort to know it helped keep her heart under lock and key. So it was with much surprise and trepidation that she suddenly found herself once again in the presence of ‘sighed’, who was an art lover and happened to choose the same gallery that day for a short break from his mundane studies at the Institute. With only a moment’s solitude under her belt, Sandy was once again face-to-face with this mysteriously quiet young man. Both smiled an awkward smile, and exchanged pleasantries. “I didn’t know that you were an art lover” he began, accent highlighted by that same soft shyness she remembered. “Well, yes, it was my favorite subject at the university.” She was on guard, cautiously aware that her heartbeat had suddenly accelerated. Unaccustomed to this feeling, she abruptly let him know that she was in a great hurry, late for an appointment somewhere, so that she could make a hasty retreat without revealing herself in a moment’s blush. Oh, she thought, this can’t be right. Her heart was still bonded forever with Mark’s, and this moment will pass safely “if only I step away from it quickly”, she thought. “Well, I am sorry,” he said, “for I have the morning free, and it would have been wonderful to share some thoughts and ideas about art.” “Perhaps another time,” she replied, as she turned to walk quickly away so that he would not notice the rise of color upon her cheeks. Damn! She felt herself becoming angry, but did not know why. Perhaps she was just having an off day. Yes, of course, that’s it she said to herself, I’m just having a bad day. And the next step found her outside the gallery nearly sprinting down the street. Monday morning found Sandy busy at her desk, preparing the necessary paperwork for her upcoming job assignment in Quafar. Her firm had a government contract, and she was to be in charge of the new offices. She had never traveled outside the USA before, and was a bit nervous about the prospects of leaving her family and friends behind. They were, after all, her primary emotional safety net. Still, she looked forward to this new adventure, a new job duty that would keep her too busy to wallow in the self-pity of her loss. Mark would always be with her in spirit, but she wouldn’t have to miss him as much as she did now, with less hours to kill each weekend. She would be far too busy learning a new language and culture, and keeping abreast of all the political and social changes going on in the world. And for that, she was thankful. Idleness was her enemy, for it only made her angrier and sadder about losing Mark. He had been her bedrock, her anchor,her soul mate. And he had died and left her alone. Tuesday and Wednesday followed the usual routine, with Thursday only a slight variation. Same-old-same-old, she thought to herself. Blah, blah, blah and that’s fine with me. And then it happened. From out of nowhere, he appeared at the outer doors as she left the office to go home. He stood there, smiling, wanting to know if she was hungry, and could she perhaps have dinner with him at that same restaurant where they had chanced to meet. She stuttered and mumbled a reply which was inaudible, so he asked her again. She heard herself say “Yes” even as she trembled inside, a scared doe wanting desperately to run, but frozen in her tracks as if hypnotized. to be continued |
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| © Copyright 2003 Kathleen Kacy Stafford - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
OK that's it I'm hooked...lol... Now see what you went and did Midnite??? lol I can't even keep up with the 20,000 poems a day over in "the rhyming section." Seriously, I'm gonna be checking for your next chapter(s)... so get writing...OK? and I'll get busy posting a few more stories as well... You take good care MidniteSun, Always, Richy |
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Zaynab Member
since 2003-05-04
Posts 59Kuwait |
More more more more more more more more!!!!! Gosh I'm stuck now!!!! can't wait to read the next part! Take care Zaynab xxxxxxxx Kill me tonight and I will love again |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Well the moth is smiling at you Kacy girl... you just took off with this and got it going on....if no one told me different, I would think you been writing novels. You indicated to me that you just recently dabbled in prose, but by the read of this...it appears you are quite comfortable in the prose venue. "to be continued" --------------------- oh you bet your sweet moth wings it will be  |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
"No, she had loved, had been loved, and was not open to loving again. Once was enough, she thought. And most people will never know the kind of love she had enjoyed with Mark. So it was with this resignation, this attitude she chose to pass her life away for nearly a year." sounds so familiar. Your story is so real to me. *s M |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Thanks you each for reading and commenting, as this is really my first attempt at a prose piece. ANY feedback will be considered positve at this point in time, even if you should decide it's a silly hokey plot or the characterizations are shallow...feel free to offer whatever your first reaction is to this story. I am a total newbie at this, except for the things I wrote as a child (which mom always threw away!)  Maureen, maybe we should do a prose duet? It could be that you have some plot thickeners I haven't even thought about yet. Thanks for your feedback! |
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