A Semi Fictional-Metaphorical acount of a boy and his romances. |
Winter, Fall, Summer By Josh Seevers He looks away shyly as she meets his stare with a coy smile. He blushes as he now keeps his eyes buried in his book. She comes and sits next to him, leaning her back against his tree. “What book are you reading?” she asks softly. He looks over the pages into her brown eyes and umber wavy hair, “The wall,” he replies. She stares back at him and continues the discussion. A while later they pause in their conversation, she drowsily puts her head on his shoulder and drapes her arms about him. Her embrace is as warm as the summer sun that warms the grass around them. He hesitates and haltingly puts his arms around her. They lie there and comfort each other. She is almost as scared as he is. He sighs his fear onto her neck and she murmurs her content into his chest. Then a car drives by and her father yells out the window. She jerks up and gathers her stuff and hurries away. Confused he holds out his hand as she closes the door, loneliness and fear on his face. She looks out the back window, tears welling in her eyes, tears streaming down his. He lay on the floor, curled into her. Their bodies mingled in warm-embrace. He sighed into her golden silver hair as he released his pain, his memories. He held her close and she held him. He began to drowse into sleep as she stared at out the window at the brown leaves clinging to the trees. She lay there, waiting for him to fall asleep, a sigh of… so many emotions escaped her lips; fear, regret, sympathy, shame. She reached out to stroke his hair, but withdrew, and she turned her head away. “How did I let it get this far” She murmured at the last of summer’s rays stretching across the carpet. She wiggled and slipped out of his grasp. While she makes her way across the room, he stirs and opens bleary eyes. He looks up to see her at the door. “I’m sorry, I’m not… I can’t…” she mumbles, her head down, and disappears through the door. He looks at the empty door, mouth open with no response, a tear slipping down his cheek. He turns away and curls in on himself, “How did I let it get this far?” He asks himself. He lets the tears bring thoughts of another, before… They lay on two couches, staring at one screen. He was curled in on himself and she was sprawled out. Her wavy golden brown hair let out a smell that brought memories to him. They watched the TV flashed its hypnotic iridescent trance. They had touched, she wanted to touch again to heal her pain, he had pain that had touched him. Both were cold. She sat up and reached out her hand. He didn’t acknowledge the touch; he only continued the blank stare. She slowly took back her hand and looked at him. A tear brimmed. Then she threw her cell phone and it hit his chest. He grunted and looked up at her with dead eyes. She gave a stunted laugh and said “What changed, I thought you...” she swallowed. He lay his head back down and sighed. She looked out the window at the snow falling snow and was transfixed by the beautiful killing frost. A darkness passed over her face and she let out a bitter sigh. “I’m going outside to freeze,” she announced. He turned his head and looked at her, and blinked. “Fine,” he whispered watching her back walkthrough the door, “I’m already frozen in here.” He closed his eyes, and thought to another, before… His memories drift back to the past as he comes to the present. He gets up and shuts off the TV and opens the window. He lies back on the couch as the cold air swirls around him. He thinks of the past as lines of ice freeze on his cheek. He closes his eyes and tries to pretend the coldness outside and in was the warmth he felt that summer day. |