She flips open her sketching pad and starts to draw. The blunt tip of the 2B pencil in her hand seems to melt into the page as she makes these soft, long strokes. Suddenly she stops and carefully tears the page off the binder, turning it over. She knows she should switch to a harder pencil for what she’s about to do but there’s no time for that.
She starts to write.
Now that the dust around us has settled, I've begun to see you once again. Your face may be lined with specks of the earth, but I know that beneath it still breathes the flesh and blood that once was mine.
Time was all it took to tear us apart, throw us off balance and send us spinning into the vortex.
Now in the quiet, eerie calm I can see beyond that glazed look in your eyes. You want to become a stranger to me now but you can't. I’m trying to appear familiar to you once again but I never will be.
All we can smell now is the strong coffee that once brewed in the corner of that room where we belonged.
I can picture the old coffee pot with its chipped spout and your fingers gently holding it. I can still squeeze some of the lime left to dry on the windowsill.
The blue hotel calls out to me at night, the smoke from its cigars encircling us as one.
Do you remember how the red wine tasted as it swam from my mouth into yours and back into mine again? I can still hear you call out my name from outside the window of the room that once used to be somebody's garage.
That big old television hasn't stopped playing our songs.
The clock is still stuck on 11:59 PM; you're still waiting for the new millennium to begin with me in your arms.
The change from the beer is still lying upon the table.
She turns the page over and continues to draw. The sketch is almost complete except for one part. She needs to fill in the features. She puts down her pencil and stares at the blank oval spot on the page. She wonders when he’s going to reply to the letter that she’s never going to send.
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7 comments:
shit, dude...you took my breath away with that one.
I'm glad I didn't read this all those years ago. Its so heart-breakingly sad.
I think I find solace in the sadness. Why? Because it isn't desperate sadness, just descriptive. I think it is sheer genius to be able to describe the deepest of human emotions, including those hardest to deal with.
@Mentalie - If you mean that, then it was worth writing it :D Thanks!
@Pat - Wasn't sad for me to write it, simply because it wasn't about me :D
@Sheer - I don't deserve half of what you say but yes I like to get under the skin of how people feel.
Ah, the writer in you is coming out again! I like thinking that one day, she will write the screenplays she's dreamt of writing.
Now, I'll go enjoy some of the food things...
@GG - I can feel the force, you're pushing me in the right direction :-)
Beautifully written!
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