water nymph
July 24th, 2003, 08:57 AM
I am going to start posting, I have really neglected my writing in light of recent events and I really would like to start it back up again.
This is just a small piece that I wrote. Come to think of it, that is what most of my pieces are like, small. It is a conversation of sorts, which is what I like about it. I think it sounds real, but that is coming from the writer.
"Talk please....it's christmas," whispered as they stood in the snow.
He looked at his shoes, trying to count the snow flakes on the toes. She could see him chewing the inside of his lip. "Please," she whispered.
"What about?" he said back.
"Anything..I couldn't care less." she held out a hand and caught the cold flakes on her palm.
"It was a year ago..." his voice was tinged with bitterness.
"I know...maybe we shouldn't talk about this."
"It doesn't matter."
He heard a soft giggle, more like a wistful laugh. "What?" he turned and caught a glimpseof her hiding a smile.
"Your accent, the way you change your voice and all" her mixed eyes briefly caught his dark ones. They were wrinkling at the edges like crickled tissue paper.
His face softened as he heard this. As he blinked away snoflakes he remembered talking to her in the car on the way back to his house.
"I always liked your voice. It's comforting." she smiled slightly.
"Thank you." he whispered and took a step closer. He could catch the scent of roses floating among the snow and tried to remember if she had smelt like that a year ago. They stood amid the snow and smiled at their feet as they remembered a year before, the long car rides between houses and warming eachothers hands over the gear stick.
Then she shook herself. "I suppose I really should be going." she said softly.
"Yeah," his forehead wrinkled. He glanced up through his eyelashes as he weighed the chance of offering her a ride home.
"I'll talk to you later," again she grinned and released her dimples.
"Sure," he looked at her again, with that halo of snow and lamp light. She would talk to him again, online. But not here, not face to face. Maybe the next time he saw her she would be different, with darker eyeshadow and colder hands.
She pulled the scarf tighter around her neck and resisted the urge to brush the snow out of his dark hair. Instead she ran her hands through her own hair wondering how much snow had gathered and turned to leave.
"Your hair is longer," he blurted to her green coated back.
She turned slightly and laughed "Yes. It has grown. Glad to see you still notice things."
"It looks good," he said softly. He kept his eyes down so that she wouldn't see the yearning to run his hands through her hair again.
She smiled "Thanks," and started to walk. "The streets are going to be dangerous. Start driving ma chere, don't want cherie to crash."
"I will. You want a ride?"
"No, I like walking in the snow and it is just around the corner. You were just there, remember. Go on, you need to get home before this piles up, cherie."
"If you say so," he watched her walk away with her dark hair catching the snow. "Why do you still call me that?" he called after her.
She turned around with her head cocked to one side, "You know, it has stuck. I just think of you as cherie and ma chere," she called to him.
"Well then. Good night!" He smiled though she couldn't see it. She still thought of him.
"I'll talk to you later!" she called as she rounded a corner.
"Bye!" he called after her and dug his hands into his pockets. He felt the small glass rose in his pocket, the one that she had left on his car, the one that he hadn't mentioned. He smiled and left the small circle of honeyed lamp light.
This is just a small piece that I wrote. Come to think of it, that is what most of my pieces are like, small. It is a conversation of sorts, which is what I like about it. I think it sounds real, but that is coming from the writer.
"Talk please....it's christmas," whispered as they stood in the snow.
He looked at his shoes, trying to count the snow flakes on the toes. She could see him chewing the inside of his lip. "Please," she whispered.
"What about?" he said back.
"Anything..I couldn't care less." she held out a hand and caught the cold flakes on her palm.
"It was a year ago..." his voice was tinged with bitterness.
"I know...maybe we shouldn't talk about this."
"It doesn't matter."
He heard a soft giggle, more like a wistful laugh. "What?" he turned and caught a glimpseof her hiding a smile.
"Your accent, the way you change your voice and all" her mixed eyes briefly caught his dark ones. They were wrinkling at the edges like crickled tissue paper.
His face softened as he heard this. As he blinked away snoflakes he remembered talking to her in the car on the way back to his house.
"I always liked your voice. It's comforting." she smiled slightly.
"Thank you." he whispered and took a step closer. He could catch the scent of roses floating among the snow and tried to remember if she had smelt like that a year ago. They stood amid the snow and smiled at their feet as they remembered a year before, the long car rides between houses and warming eachothers hands over the gear stick.
Then she shook herself. "I suppose I really should be going." she said softly.
"Yeah," his forehead wrinkled. He glanced up through his eyelashes as he weighed the chance of offering her a ride home.
"I'll talk to you later," again she grinned and released her dimples.
"Sure," he looked at her again, with that halo of snow and lamp light. She would talk to him again, online. But not here, not face to face. Maybe the next time he saw her she would be different, with darker eyeshadow and colder hands.
She pulled the scarf tighter around her neck and resisted the urge to brush the snow out of his dark hair. Instead she ran her hands through her own hair wondering how much snow had gathered and turned to leave.
"Your hair is longer," he blurted to her green coated back.
She turned slightly and laughed "Yes. It has grown. Glad to see you still notice things."
"It looks good," he said softly. He kept his eyes down so that she wouldn't see the yearning to run his hands through her hair again.
She smiled "Thanks," and started to walk. "The streets are going to be dangerous. Start driving ma chere, don't want cherie to crash."
"I will. You want a ride?"
"No, I like walking in the snow and it is just around the corner. You were just there, remember. Go on, you need to get home before this piles up, cherie."
"If you say so," he watched her walk away with her dark hair catching the snow. "Why do you still call me that?" he called after her.
She turned around with her head cocked to one side, "You know, it has stuck. I just think of you as cherie and ma chere," she called to him.
"Well then. Good night!" He smiled though she couldn't see it. She still thought of him.
"I'll talk to you later!" she called as she rounded a corner.
"Bye!" he called after her and dug his hands into his pockets. He felt the small glass rose in his pocket, the one that she had left on his car, the one that he hadn't mentioned. He smiled and left the small circle of honeyed lamp light.