Sunday, January 18, 2015

Yellow flowers

I have no Idea why I wrote this.
Yellow flowers.
(1223 words)
Neil Waters awoke to a woman lying next to him,her hair falling from her too tight bun,  still wearing her coat from their walk last night. His eyes grew wider as he tried to remember what happened last night. He sighed in relief when he remembered she had had car trouble and he, being the gentleman his mother raised him to be, had offered for her to stay at his flat until tomorrow when the cab could come, he had of course offered her the bed, but she said she didn't want to intrude, then she said she would but only if he would sleep where he usually did. The thought of that conversation brought shivers down Neil's back as he remembered how he insisted she wear her coat, partly because he didn't want to seem like he was trying something, partly  because the sheets were abnormally thin due to his being very warm blooded. Then he shivered for a different reason, watching her beautiful sleeping face so calm and peaceful, remembering  all the moments leading to this perfect one.
They had been walking on the pavement, under the orange glow of the street lights, she would laugh at something that wasn't even supposed to be funny and touch his shoulder gently, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. He had supposed to her it would be, she wasn't socially awkward like he was. Her name was a mystery, and she was his soul mate. He had seen her on the bus, the subway, and he was sure he was just seeing her face everywhere. First he had seen her on the subway reading Little Women and she was trying to hide the fact she was crying. He thought about her the entire ride home, and especially the extra forty minuets he was on the train because he was so deep in thought he missed his stop. The next day before he got on the train he bought a small bunch a flowers from the bearded man with hardly any teeth, Neil tried to make conversation but all he could get out was a 'Good morning.Windy today.' Which it was.
 When he got to the platform he hoped to the heavens that she was on the train and also that he could get more than a muttering whisper out when he finally got to talk to her.
 He remembered that moment when she got on the train as she shifted in her sleep next to him, drawing him out of his daydream. Her eyes fluttered open, looking straight at him. Neil said surprisingly clearly "good morning" Her face remained emotionless as she nodded, turned over, and fell back asleep. Neil chuckled to himself,which he never did. Then he remembered her face when she came on the train that afternoon, it sported the same blank stare...
Her windblown chestnut hair fell loose around her face. Her eyes were as though she was seeing everything but didn't even care enough to react to anything.Her cheeks were bright red from the freezing wind. She was wearing a night blue scarf wrapped around her neck, spilling over the collar of her snow white trench coat. He had stood straight up from his seat as soon as he laid eyes on her, strode over to her before he lost his nerve, and thrust the flowers at her. The blank look fell from her eyes and surprise took over. "I'm sorry, about Beth." Her eyes brimmed with tears and she nodded, taking the bright yellow daffodils from his clenched hand and held them in her lap as the train started to move. "Thank you. You are very kind." Neil blushed and clutched to the pole he held to keep himself from falling. He nodded like a bobble head to himself as she gazed out the window. When all at once he had a horrible thought, "What if she thinks I'm too unattractive to look at?"  He stared nervously at his reflection in the dark window of the train as they sped through the tunnel. He had worn his tweed coat and simple black scarf, so as not to have such a bulky appearance. His curly brown hair seemed to have been cooperating that particular morning, falling in short waves instead of sticking straight up, and his blue eyes stared nervously back at him as he decided he looked acceptable from behind his perfectly round glasses. He cleared his throat as the train pulled up to a station and more people piled on and off the train cars. She looked up and stunned him with her brown eyes. "Yes?" Neil opened his mouth and out came the sound of a dying mouse. The woman giggled and asked again. This time Neil managed to get out sounds that sounded a bit like "Coffee?" and "Name?"
Neil liked to run through that conversation over and over again in his head, he had asked her name and whether she would like to get some coffee, literally, when ever she wanted. She had smiled lightly, looked him over, and nodded as if to herself.
That evening they had gone to her favorite cafe where she had convinced him to try his usually black and plain tea with milk and two sugars. Neil drank the whole thing in two gulps. She had laughed when he told her his mother never drank her tea with milk or sugar. So naturally he never drank his with milk and sugar either. It was said in his house that people who drink their tea with sugar were weak and not tough enough to drink real tea.
Then they went for a walk. A long quite, cold walk. The sun set behind them as the clouds above turned pink, she talked about how much she loved poetry, Annabell lee was her favorite next to dream within a dream. Neil felt as though he didn't have enough information to keep up with this woman on her intellectual ranting, so he just nodded politely and listened as she talked of wishing to be in a Shakespearean play at the Globe Theater, she wanted to write poetry and great novels that would make people laugh and then make them cry for days on end. The funny part about this whole conversation was that he didn't mind in the least that she was the one doing all the talking. Neil was raised to let everyone else say their bit first, then when they got tired or ran out of things to say, then he could start talking.  He was thinking about that when the snow started out of no where, as if by magic.  They stopped under a street light, her mouth finally stopped moving as they stared at the scene unfolding behind them.
She held Neils hand as they walked to his flat. She fell asleep on his bed and he didn't have the heart to move her. Instead he lay his coat over her back, and slipped the sheets over her. He fell asleep stiff as a board trying not to touch her.
That afternoon the cab company came and whisked her away.
And he didn't even care that he hadn't learned her name. Because she had changed the way he looked at snow, forever.
-Jessica Baker-

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