Tuesday, January 8, 2013

7777 More Day Dreams

Here's a story, concerning and containing a wish, that an average working class girl made, on a lonely afternoon at the office...

She was just sitting there at her corner office desk, watching Swoozie vlogs on youtube, trying to wretch her spirits from a dark and lonely abyss. She was plugged in and zoned out, numb to the absolute solitude that lurked all around her. She had finally shut up her worrying mind by binding it with head-phone cord, and feeding it the distraction of comic vibes. The thunder of the 80's area 5.0 Mustang's breath ripped her from her zombie land. The spin of the office chair beneath her aided the snap of her vision from the computer screen to the window behind her. Framed in glass was a scene she had waited for every moment since 11:30 that morning (it was then 3:30) to play out. The Stang was on a shine, as it stopped out front and it's driver side door opened like the up beat of a single dragon wing. Before the down beat could occur, she had already yanked the buds from her head with on hand, one motion, one purpose, and dashed around her desk to the big wooden front door, an inch thick with the oval antique latch. For a scary thousandth of a second, she feared he would not be behind the door, that it was only a schizophrenic day dream that make her see him at all.  But fears soon flew far from her pretty little head as instantaneously as they had fleetingly come. His door slammed, and hers was flung inward on its big black metal hinges,welcoming, in the late November wind, and him. Her lip curled and quivered like a new born faun, as tears of joy stood on tiptoe on the rims of her yes, not quite daring to fall. Her arms stretched vectorisly for her savior as he ran for their vertex; her heart her soul, her very self.  He reached her, and it was as the joining of two forces, each movable by nothing, save by the energy of one another. His arms around her middle, hers around his neck, the clutch of vise grips would not have been tighter. They held each other, or maybe time and the very essence of simply existing was what was holding them...hostage...either way, they were not held long enough. There was only time for two soft sobs to escape from deep within her chest, and an exchange of "I love you's" before he was attempting to loose her clasping fingers from his back, and hold her away from him. At first she was confused and would not give a faction of her arms length to make space between them. "Why does he want me to let go?" she mauled the worrisome thought until it was a shredded mass of goo, so only a fraction of a moment too long. Suddenly it occurred to her, "He just wants to kiss me!" She unburied her face from his shoulder, raised her lips to his, and they kissed for the the first time over a was so passionate, it might as well have been their first time ever. This first kiss lingered, long, slow, pure. When finally its conclusion came, this first osculation was fittingly proceeded by 7777 more smaller delicate little pecks scattered across the faces of the lovers by each. In that moment nothing else mattered. They, him and her, were water droplets that had been separated by a harsh storm or a cruel cruel current, but in the very trice they were rejoined, no human could determine one from the other. When the exchange of kisses slowed, he knelt down, smiling and gazing into her glassing eyes, hugged her legs and gently picked her up (as if she could be any higher than she already was; her mailing address, cloud 9). The laughter that emanated, and bubbled from what seemed to be the deep part of her soul, was that of untainted excitement and joy, as spun her around, and around the openness of the hard wood beneath his feet. He then brought her down from her place in the heavens, and when she lighted again on the hard floor in front of her knight, he threw another 7000 some more kisses onto her fairy like personage. He took her slender left hand in his muscular, and work worn right he lead her in a slow dance right there, in her small front room office. All alone, she was the only one working that day. But he could not stay long. They walked out into the biting afternoon air. Goosebumps of passion and cold spayed across her thin arms (she only wore skimpy quarter length sleeves on her little brown jacket). They kissed one last time and said their "I love you, bye"'s. He climbed into he car, she blew him a kiss, and catching her, he blew one back. Their time was short, but as she skipped back inside, she jumped out of bliss and quietly screamed to the ceiling, "Thank You, God! Thank You, God!"

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