The Beginnings of A Story . . .

I feel the carpet burning my freshly shaved milk white knees as I crawl through the closet looking for my boots.  I wonder why I am so disorganized.  I wonder why I am such a mess.  As I look around I realize that I may never find them.  I flick my long brown hair off my right shoulder and notice the clock on my white wash stained end table is screaming at me.  Its ten o'clock! 

"Dam I am late again!" I think to myself.  

I go into a half stand catching my nightgown under my toes and fall flat on my back. I reach my hands up and begin to rub my now red bumpy knees back to life.  I have no energy for this.  He is for sure going to be mad at me again.

 I curl up into a ball hugging my legs, rubbing my flushed cheeks against the softness of the flannel on my nightgown.  I begin to rock back and forth as if I am in a straight jacket. Strangely the rocking soothes me.   In the stillness of the moment I am longing for him.  Sometimes I think I can feel him next to me.  I look at my forearms still wrapped around my legs as if they are holding on for dear life and I see goosebumps.  I feel the chill of them race through my body tugging on my heart.  I stop rocking.  A calmness washes over me.  I wonder if it is him again. 

It doesn't take much to lure me back to those moments.  Even though it was years ago for me it will always feel like yesterday.  If I close my eyes I swear I can see him. If I think hard enough I feel him touch me gently on the face.  Its as if I am right there in the kitchen with him again . . . 

“Hey Sophia, babe, come here.”  He says with a hushed tone that makes me tingle all over. 

As he reaches out his arm calling me to him I do not hesitate.  Not for one second. 

His jet black hair and bright blue eyes mesmorize me.  They are crystal blue like the ocean.  His soft full lips curl up into a smile and I long to kiss them.


to be continued . . .