twirled between my
fingers a photo of us that I usually kept as a bookmark, and
wondered what she was doing now. Joy had decided to alternate
between helping Josh on his various construction missions, as well
as being the teacher’s aide.
As I went up the stairs
that had become so familiar to me, I heard Alfred bark
twice.
Only me, sadly.
I petted the dog, told him
the latest news on Josh, what he was up to, and took a deep breath.
What I needed to do next would be, without a doubt, very
unpleasant. As a plaster, it needed to be executed at
once.
I held my head between my
hands, closed my eyes and focused. I tried to draw in Positive
Vibrations, visualize a little. Whom was I kidding?
I got up, walked extremely
slowly, and held my breath. I picked up the receiver, dialled the
phone.
“Hi Mom, it’s me. I have
news…”
I blurted the whole story
out at once. Thankfully, she did not say much. I had to
double-check that she had not suffered a concussion after her
fall.
“Are you still
there?”
She did not exactly fall,
but she had definitely sat enthusiastically. She handed the phone
to my father, who seemed rather happy with the news.
After dad assured me mom
was breathing again, I looked through my things to find my most
treasured possession.
It was now September. I
was going back to school, and Joy was turning 22 years old. She
would be back in time for her birthday.
I sat down at my desk,
facing my laptop, and stared. I wanted to write – write the most
moving, gut-wrenching, soul-consuming book.
I got up, and made myself
a cup of coffee. I sat some more, played with the keyboard, cleaned
it, cleaned the screen.
I went to the bathroom,
and petted the dog, which had followed me along. I looked through
the cupboards, and found a bottle of red.
The neighbours, with their
binoculars facing our kitchen, decided at that very moment to check
up on me. It was the polite thing to invite them in, and share a
glass or two. Before I knew it, a party had gathered on the
balcony, with very many bottles. As I had learned my lesson in the
past, I stuck to Red.
The neighbours asked about
Joy and Josh, how they were coping in Africa. I answered their
prodding as best as I could, while I showed them photos that I had
taken during my visit.
Many glasses and hours
later, I decided a Surprise Birthday party was in order, after
Joy’s return; I announced to everyone our engagement, and how we
could celebrate that as well.
We all cheered.
By the end of the evening
or early morning, the music was turned off, the candles had died
down, and I was sleeping cuddled up to Alfred on the
floor.
When I woke, I had a
headache again.
I sat at my computer, and
decided to pick up where I had left off yesterday. I stared at the
white page some more.
I decided to shower first,
and then make breakfast: dry toast would do. I made coffee, fed the
dog, and sat at the computer. I drank my cup, checked my email,
read the news, and went back to writing.
I listened to the quiet. I
looked outside the window.
I stretched.
My cup was empty, so I
decided to bring it back to the kitchen. I made a stop to the
bathroom on my way back to the office, and petted
Alfred.
I thought about what I
wanted to write, it had to be something meaningful, something
beautiful. I wanted to write a Grand Story with Meaningful, and
Beautiful Characters.
I looked out the window,
the red and orange leaves danced in the wind. Joy loved autumn. She
would lift her arms up and try to catch falling leaves when the
wind blew strongly. I remembered her laughing, and twirling around.
I wish she were here.
Somehow, she never really
was here. As I thought of my beloved, I came to realize that
whether we were together in the same room or across the world,
separated by oceans, she never really was with me.
She was the type of woman
that lived the moment intensely, felt things deeply, but at the
same time, managed to be so disconnected from other people, or
maybe just from
fingers a photo of us that I usually kept as a bookmark, and
wondered what she was doing now. Joy had decided to alternate
between helping Josh on his various construction missions, as well
as being the teacher’s aide.
As I went up the stairs
that had become so familiar to me, I heard Alfred bark
twice.
Only me, sadly.
I petted the dog, told him
the latest news on Josh, what he was up to, and took a deep breath.
What I needed to do next would be, without a doubt, very
unpleasant. As a plaster, it needed to be executed at
once.
I held my head between my
hands, closed my eyes and focused. I tried to draw in Positive
Vibrations, visualize a little. Whom was I kidding?
I got up, walked extremely
slowly, and held my breath. I picked up the receiver, dialled the
phone.
“Hi Mom, it’s me. I have
news…”
I blurted the whole story
out at once. Thankfully, she did not say much. I had to
double-check that she had not suffered a concussion after her
fall.
“Are you still
there?”
She did not exactly fall,
but she had definitely sat enthusiastically. She handed the phone
to my father, who seemed rather happy with the news.
After dad assured me mom
was breathing again, I looked through my things to find my most
treasured possession.
It was now September. I
was going back to school, and Joy was turning 22 years old. She
would be back in time for her birthday.
I sat down at my desk,
facing my laptop, and stared. I wanted to write – write the most
moving, gut-wrenching, soul-consuming book.
I got up, and made myself
a cup of coffee. I sat some more, played with the keyboard, cleaned
it, cleaned the screen.
I went to the bathroom,
and petted the dog, which had followed me along. I looked through
the cupboards, and found a bottle of red.
The neighbours, with their
binoculars facing our kitchen, decided at that very moment to check
up on me. It was the polite thing to invite them in, and share a
glass or two. Before I knew it, a party had gathered on the
balcony, with very many bottles. As I had learned my lesson in the
past, I stuck to Red.
The neighbours asked about
Joy and Josh, how they were coping in Africa. I answered their
prodding as best as I could, while I showed them photos that I had
taken during my visit.
Many glasses and hours
later, I decided a Surprise Birthday party was in order, after
Joy’s return; I announced to everyone our engagement, and how we
could celebrate that as well.
We all cheered.
By the end of the evening
or early morning, the music was turned off, the candles had died
down, and I was sleeping cuddled up to Alfred on the
floor.
When I woke, I had a
headache again.
I sat at my computer, and
decided to pick up where I had left off yesterday. I stared at the
white page some more.
I decided to shower first,
and then make breakfast: dry toast would do. I made coffee, fed the
dog, and sat at the computer. I drank my cup, checked my email,
read the news, and went back to writing.
I listened to the quiet. I
looked outside the window.
I stretched.
My cup was empty, so I
decided to bring it back to the kitchen. I made a stop to the
bathroom on my way back to the office, and petted
Alfred.
I thought about what I
wanted to write, it had to be something meaningful, something
beautiful. I wanted to write a Grand Story with Meaningful, and
Beautiful Characters.
I looked out the window,
the red and orange leaves danced in the wind. Joy loved autumn. She
would lift her arms up and try to catch falling leaves when the
wind blew strongly. I remembered her laughing, and twirling around.
I wish she were here.
Somehow, she never really
was here. As I thought of my beloved, I came to realize that
whether we were together in the same room or across the world,
separated by oceans, she never really was with me.
She was the type of woman
that lived the moment intensely, felt things deeply, but at the
same time, managed to be so disconnected from other people, or
maybe just from
Similar Books
