It was accordingly set out so the last won standing was unclear. Do the rapture souls defeat the gentle being? That was the question on the mind of the inquisitive someone.
It was the dawn morning of the clock when she knew. All of her immediate long attachments were fornicated to the extent of lies. All that she believed in, all that she was, was some how teared into shreds. That left a demolishing hope on her feelings now.

It was in the glow of the moonlight when she fled to the field where she finds herself at home. Dashing through the mudded slush as her head was stained from thoughts she didn’t care to hear anymore. Was she going mad she thought? Has she totally lost her sense of sanity in a sanctuary of horrid images? She didn’t believe in these monstours visions, she only ’saw’ them, but that was frightening enough.

As she made her way to the cold barked tree, she sat in exhaustion. Mental exhaustion so incalculable that it took a toll on also her physical state. Dizzy with confusion and warped with utter questionable doubts. There was only one place, a place so immaculate that she needed to go to clear her mind of the madness.

She sat there alone and tired, shivering from the terrible early march winds. Rest assured her sour pity to oneself. She called out to her angels “ come fourth now angels, for if not then, now I need you the most, I need your courage and strength to help me forsee, that what I imagine is only so, and not possible actions I desire to for take.” “ I need your trust my angels, your trust so I could believe that this is true, and believe in my self, and in all my compassionate wishes”. “Come fourth now my angels, I beg for your guidance, and I have faith in you, to have confidence in me.” “I love you my angels, and ill be sure to be grateful toward you, thank you my angels for listening to me.”

I wrote that when I completely hit rock bottom. After I thought all possible darkness, couldn’t get any darker. I have seen the ‘night’, in the blackest of form. And my rejuvenation is the only thing that saved me.

Still, now, in my happiest of hours I am no longer who I am. More of a robot programmed to delegate through life’s never ending sunrises. Emotional at best, but the sting of each felt is somewhat compared to as second hand string on the school’s football team.

I often think back to the very first stitch of the long woven scarf I call my emancipation. A creation built with loves sincerity, and the devils smirk.
It was the moment my eyes made their way to those gleaming emeralds, and its been an eruption ever since.


I woke up at dawn, the owl’s must have been watching me. I dressed in a quickened manner and bolted for the door. I hadn’t a clue to where I was heading, I trusted my feet to make the right choice.

After an hour of constant velocity I needed to breathe. I made myself at home on a decent sized rock, chipped so delicately you would have thought it was honorable and deserved its own glass case at an impressive museum.

I lay back and closed my eyes and focused on the surrealist of shapes that swam through my visions. I counted the restless days, from when I last saw him.

The flower I picked was the melody of the most beautiful of songs, I couldn’t do much but to sing along.
Swaying in the morning sun, as I hummed an unknown tune. I thought of rain, children, and then I thought of you.
Forgive me or not, it doesn’t change the dance. Of a once long lived, hateful/sweet romance.

“But just give me a chance”, I yelped so out of pitch. Help me to finish my very last needed stitch.

Then the wind picked up, and blew the dust seizing my song to diminish. Which made it so clear, that my scarf will go unfinished.

I ended up at a run down barn, that was abandoned years ago. I made my way into the door, and the echo of my presence lifted my spirit to the moon.
I could clearly hear my blood traveling into ports of my body, which sped up after I kneeled to say a soft prayer. The familiarity of this place was unexploited. My range of vision that my eyes can see, surly has never saw it here. But my unknowable perception lucidly holds it dear.

I stepped onto an unstable wooden stair that led up to a second floor. I waited for the fear of danger, and then I stepped once more. I had no doubts so I creaked up each one with a quiet motion. Hoping to remember such a place, in any sign or notion. When I reached the top I heard a scuffle to my side. There flew a cardinal, that bring to mind of someone who had died.

My walk home was conveying, I reflected on old memories and deliberated on events. I stopped my tracking when I was distracted by a soundless sound. I burrowed my way down a tunnel in a impeccable white birch tree that was hidden by shrubs. When momentarily was lost inside, I came to the spot I was destined to find. I hid there, trying to be still. So still that I even controlled my breathing until it was barely in gesticulate.

I secretly watched as a beautiful tigress, stepped gracefully into a stream. The reflection of the water gave her coat a tint of blue and magic in her eyes. A powerful lady i envisioned but with a certain kindness. Her elegance was emancipating and the fireflies around her were welcoming. A beast wouldn’t have allowed it, so you know her elegant quander was true. The tigress gazed into the water as if looking for something quite specific, like an answer to a question she has long been yearning. I must have lurked in that tree observing for hours, what seemed as only a few dainty moments. I said a prayer then, hoping for the beautiful creature to eventually find what she was looking for, and then I was on my way.


Weeks went by and I couldn’t shake the fidgety feeling that’s always burrowing inside of me, so relentlessly. A kind of eerie undertone that causes my teeth to shred my lips.

The line between loss and gain is never assured to me. And sometimes I feel that my selection of actions should have been worked out in a more sensible manner. But I know deeply that the way it came to explode was the only way it could have worked out in the ending of such an indissoluble union.

My heart is left unresolved and my toes clench in the hopes of regaining an explanation we longed deserve.

The first rainfall of spring was always a celebration to me. The premature budded trees bathing to grow picturesque.
I sit aside my window, fogging it to a mist. I breathe through my singed scars, over and under my thoughts. Arousing the tied monster and watch as my horror detangles from the ego. The filthy mind crystallized through my own pain and integrity while devotion is my empowerment. I sigh to release the joy which empathy convicts, big hearted I am, for such a little miss.

I barely ate today, and my stomach scratched against its lining as it grumbled for food. Too in the clouds to eat, I swallowed down a glass of water.

In the loneliest of days I am refracted beyond control, reflecting on the simplicities of what makes me yearn. A sure rainbow, while the endless tears gushing from angles so disorganized makes it an unerring possibility.
I believe my soul itself is emerging onto indigo, but my derailed senses can never be too sure.

When my showers are over, so is my pity and then I set back to the bounds of reality. Never with the supreme volt of enthusiasm, but I do what I can to stop others from worrying. After all, my life’s hardships shouldn’t dampen the will of the ones I care for.


My Aunt and I took a ride out to the nearest Indian reservation because she wanted to get her husband cartons of cigarettes to stock up on. The ride there consisted of her chattering about how her boss has been really riding her ass. And about the pointless tasks he makes her do, being its “undeserved and time wasting”. As the words dribbled out of her mouth I couldn’t help but to drift away into my own pile of thoughts. I could tell by her rapture with her discussion that she didn’t notice my mind melted off into a dimension of illus ional conduct.

If her self’s largest problem was whether or not she should put up with the unfair dedication of her place of work, then what’s that to say about me? Here I am shredding away my meaning of who I am, who to be, and why and deepening my dreadful existence. And she’s complaining about restocking a stapler.

As her words swirled into my ears, I couldn’t decide if her world was less meaningful than mine. Blankly obvious that she has no serene connection to earth’s true entities, where I knew them well and treasured them severely. But then on the other hand, despite her bitter dislikes of occupation, she was happy. And I was not.

As she pulled into the stony parking lot and reached for the door handle I mimicked her gesture and made my way inside. A sudden breach signaled myself and I walked around aimlessly until I could come fourth my next move.

It was there just outside the shop where an old Native man sat. I wanted to approach him, for Native American culture was always a fascination of mine, but I didn’t want to come off as rude or hasty. So as I waited in line to purchase my diet soda and beef jerky, I pondered on ways to subtly score a chat with the wise man.

I was rather nervous cashing out, because I knew my inquisitive talk would be intensely overwhelming for me. And I could tell the young man collecting my money could feel my anxious cool.

I gathered my change and I traveled toward the exit, but when I stepped out the old man was no longer there. Disappointed yet relieved because I built up an anticipation so large, I continued to walk toward the wooded bench the wise one sat merely moments ago.

I sat down unnoticing what was left there. Until I sat back comfortable enough to make due. There was a folded piece of paper that lay before my crutched posture and I hesitated to take hold of.

Did this man out of old age forget to take with him his belonging, or had it been there to take? I debated for minutes until my aunt made her way outside. I quickly opened to read the first scribbled line “You are forgetting something, young one. Its in your dream.” In the 6 seconds it took me to register what was said, I immediately pocketed the paper and met my aunt at the car.

The ride back wasn’t so boring anymore. The conversation was dominated by me and I gabbed about uncertainties of the world. I was aware that my aunt had no idea what the extremities of any of this meant, but the inspiration of my high was too involved to ignore.

When I got home I spun into my room like a rabbit trying to outrun a fox. I reached for my pocket and I jumped into the words so pugnaciously.

“ You are forgetting something, young one. Its in your dream.”

“A Hopi Legend
After the departure of Spider Woman, the people set out once more to discover their new world. Alone they set out, traveling east and a little north, paddling hard day and night for many days as if they were paddling uphill.
At last they saw land. It rose high above the waters, stretching from north to south as far as they could see. A great land, a mighty land, their inner wisdom told them. "The Fourth World!" they cried to each other.
As they got closer, its shores rose higher and higher into a steep wall of mountains. There seemed no place to land. "Let us go north. There we will find our place of emergence," said some. So they went north, but the mountains rose higher and steeper.
"No! Let us go south! There we will find our place of emergence!" cried others. So they turned south and traveled many days more. But here too the mountain wall reared higher.
Not knowing what to do, the people stopped paddling, opened the doors on top of their heads, and let themselves be guided. Almost immediately the water smoothed out, and they felt their rafts caught up in a gentle current. Before long they landed and joyfully jumped out upon a sandy shore. "The Fourth World!" they cried. "We have reached our place of emergence at last!"
Soon all the others arrived and when they were gathered together, Sótuknang appeared before them. "Well, I see you are all here. This is good. This is the place I have prepared for you. Look now at the way you have come."
Looking to the west and south, the people could see sticking out of the water the islands upon which they had rested.
"They are the footprints of your journey," continued Sótuknang, "the tops of the high mountains of the Third World, which I destroyed. Now watch."
As the people watched them, the closest one sank under the water, then the next, until all were gone, and they could see only water.
"See," said Sótuknang, "I have washed away even the footprints of your emergence, the stepping-stones which I left for you. Down on the bottom of the sea lie all the proud cities, the flying pátuwvotas, and the worldly treasures corrupted with evil, and those people who found no time to sing praises to the Creator from the tops of their hills. But the day will come, if you preserve the memory and meaning of your emergence, when these stepping stones will emerge again to prove the truth you speak."

I must have sat there reading the page 8 times, and then focused on something rather specific.

“The fourth world” made an impressionable itch on me.

A month or so prior before the shatter of my heart, I began noticing the number four everywhere around me. Seldom at first, but as the time ticked the “coincidental” four appeared around each corner.

The most distinct circumstance was the time of crashing departure, which happened to fall on the 4th of June. A satanic blow that blew from the depths of my long boiling lunacy. I cringed with the facts I knew so very rich. And my devastation accumulated in maximum capacity.

I cant quite describe the hemorrhage of that situation, but the memory still haunts me. A spell of ingenuity that never seems to fade. That day I ate my promises I once so voluntarily honored to keep. And the love that we so easily shared, was demolished and left with hatred.

The next couple of months that followed the blow were the beginning of the finest experiences one’s self could endure. Being un-chained by the bitter reality of my pre- companions severe difficulties, had me glowing in the brightest of colors. A boulder made of granite has been suddenly lifted from my tiny chest.

I was seeing things in a whole different fashion and the positive values struck my senses as a lit cigarette would a bucket of ether. I breathed in garden- fresh air and exhaled the stars that lay in the night sky. I was a detangled soul, on her way to freedom. And all the while, ’4’ stalked me. Waking up and seeing the clock read “4:00am”, Going to the movies and being assigned to theater 4. There are also thousands of other relations that I couldn’t have possibly remembered them all. But the never lacking linking was so vast, that it soon became an obsession of mine.

After the afternoon of the irregular obtaining of such a stimulation of such a note, I retreated to the gym to soak up my wandering thoughts that now roamed through my head.

I effortlessly strolled down toward the pool room, where I was looking quite stunning. The gobbling eyes branded through me while the flatter of this gave my stomach a tickle.

I entered through the glass pool room doors wearing a contagious smile. Without delay my stare made its way towards a captivating fellow, drying off at a distance with a towel. A bit overawed, I almost clumsy-like walked to take my claim of a un-occupied lounge chair.

As I got comfortable, I reached for my book that I intended on reading for the time being. It was a Buddhism inspired read and I traced the words with my eyes.

“The second noble truth is: the cause of suffering is desire (or craving) if you don’t try to hold you don’t suffer over the loss you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”

“Did you ever see a really beautiful woman life a top model who is just getting to that point where her looks are changing into what could be an internal beauty if she hadn’t been so busy with her external beauty?” “She is caught in the beauty of time, which withers.” “HOW POIGNANT!” :

“And yet we’ve all touched people who were so beautiful as beings that we never notice whether they are physically beautiful. Its like an external beauty lives within them.”

“Well if you attach yourself if you crave temporal things. Beauty possessions. Achievements. Anything. How poignant!”

I was rushed into a mental frenzy of regrouping my intentions. I was liberated and I now wish to take a step back. Holding onto something, anything doesn’t sincere you for the upcoming future. Was I out of my mind?

The dearing male from minutes prior kept circling around in my mind. a domineering perseverance that I didn’t mind at all. In fact, it made me feel giddy inside.

I studied the way he carried himself. Confidently and with a splash of modesty. No doubt his outside appearance was radiant but the kind that looks fourth to no effort. His jaw line dazzled looking almost jizzled from marble. His eyes were big and blue, so doll-like they almost looked feminine. His skin was a medium shade, but his face had a remarkable layer.

Before he exited, he kindly saluted the aged lifeguard so kindly my lungs sank watching. His beauty wreeked through his pores that I so willingly captured.

When I got home later today I had a spark flowing through me that could compare to the hatching of a robin’s egg. I ate dinner silently in my room trying to conclude what miraculous change has become of me. I was soon distracted by a program on television that involved the worlds most deadliest spiders, and then I fell fast asleep.

I was dreaming I was a flower child covered in knitted colors. I was about 8 years old and the rest of the world seemed so far out of reach. Content in my life, I confronted violence with a hug.

The friend I was drawn to was more of a sister and we danced in the peddles of the field. Swinging around freely and no amount of rain could break us apart. A mutual understanding of what its like to be each others greatest excitement.

But then a horse-like figure blew out of the clouds. An eye-less creature who had the ugliest shade of coat. he stung our vibrations, using a tranquil surmise. I felt fear, and then I felt nothing.

He grabbed me and said “ill take you or ill take your friend”, with such a raspy tone. I cried out for help and then I screamed no more. I turned toward my pal, who was shaken so still, I turned to the creature and said “take me, if you will”.

The horse sneered, a cackle that shrieked with laughter. He said “you must know your next days wont be happily ever after.”

“I’m aware sir, I said almost in a whisper. Will you give me one last chance to say goodbye to my sister?”

“I suppose stupid one, you are so ignorant I see.”

I chimed in, “I couldn’t watch her get struck by evil, id rather it be me.”

So I grabbed my friend so tight, and said my goodbye, I held her close and I studied the soul of her eyes.


I woke up in a haze then, dreadfully tired. My face was wet with tears that had drenched my pillow. I was scared and alone, the combination made my lips tremble and I reached for a familiar object to comfort my lonesomeness. The first thing I could find was a rugged old stuffed puppy that my deceased grandfather bought me when I was 6. A decade and a half later the once white fur, has turned to a grungy tan. I held it pressed up to my chest and sobbed about something I didn’t quite know.

I went to the library today, I was on a search of in depth books about The Hopi emergence legend, that was previewed in the note I attained the day at the reservation. I gathered a few different titles and sat myself down at a near by desk.

Before I indulged in the realities of the print, I strained my brain for any relevance about the wise one directly saying what he said about it being in my dream. Did he mean a past dream, or a dream to come, or a dream I thirst?

I then analyzed the nightmare from days ago. I thought of ’my sister’ in the dream as a symbol for my needed affection. An unattainable bond that I used to have so directly.

The dark horse as the storm that inevitably catches us all, making us choose between ourselves and the one you care most about.

Then me, self sacrificing in the wheel of love. Oh, what people do for love.

After moments my mind turned to a more peculiar dream, one that I had when my ex and I were on the verge of troubled undertone.

It started off as a bright relaxing day at a kind of resort, or a lodge. The atmosphere was light and the sky was the prettiest shade of blue. I was at the side of the pool chatting away, while he was off getting us drinks.

I suddenly looked toward the sky. It was a star, or some kind of outer meteor of some sort. It was like a bomb of glitter burning its way down.

I froze as my eyes registered the actuality of what this meant. I sat there accepting the conclusive way, and then I thought of him.

I sprouted up in a panic and I rushed around trying to find him through the crowd that was more like a circus now.
People were stampeding around like giant lizards, squirming tears of agony.

My worry at this point wasn’t the fact that in a mere 30 seconds or so I was going to die. We all were going to die, our planet was going to die. My main, and only concern was getting to see him for the last time. To get a glimpse of his beaming stare that shrinks even my biggest problem, into a pudding of muck.

I ran around shouting his name with so much force my throat started to swell. Finally after I heard him call out I twirled around quickly enough to make me lose my grace.

There he was 25 feet away marching toward me like a soldier full of death, trying one last time to capture life.

I pushed through the startled bunch but I knew it was too late. I saw it in the sky, and more disheartening, I saw it in his face.

He screamed out “I love you! & after this death, I‘ll love you still”
I answered “Find me in the next life love, promise me you will?”
He wept “Of course, I won’t stop until I find you once again, I’m all yours”
Then my last words ever were “Ill meet you at heavens doors.”

I was taken back just then after remembering such a dream, that I couldn’t believe has diminished in my memory.

I had to get home. The public wasn’t the place for me for the state of emotion I had just loomed myself into. I retreated my books and scampered off to check out. Soon I will be home, and then I could get a grip on what a mess I made of myself.

I would imagine skeletons, wrapped in water colors. The shadows will come out to say hello. I’m the slacking girl who peeks out her window, strangely acquiring the shaking of the neighbor. Oddly caught, the startle rules the bones, highly connected yet I’m alone. Away from our judgment in words, spirit lies in descions, the turns. Please help, to stop the sinning, my rinsed out heart cant discuss the un-hope, the evil. The pile of mess I flow and fully at rest. Riders on the rainbow, stay clear of the end. Switching through red, orange & yellow. Make me understand. Green blue indigo. I have to let this go.

The next weeks were fuzzy, the blend of cigarettes and whiskey had a numbing effect on my senses. Exposed to the consciousness of psychosis which had a never ending blur on the way I approached things. Regrouping through this was a mission my body was forced to examine, and it wouldn’t be easy.

After the hell risen from my stupid actions I had to sink into my spiritual boutique to reconnect with the bounds of reality. A week long whiskey binge never was the answer to any long driven problem. And it most surely was never a smart thing to indulge in while battling with a kind of depression. But I was never one to rationalize, I was prone to acting on impulses.

After a day or so sober, I headed to the gym to detoxify the poison I drowned my brain in so subjectively. When I got there I worked out seldom on the treadmill then threw in the towel when I fell faint. I walked down to the pool-side and couldn’t help but to wonder if that handsome fellow from a month ago would be there treading so perfectly in the water.

To my disappointment his absence was a burden, which made me realize a part of me had a soft spot for him.

After I left the gym, I drove down Oxen road debating whether or not I wanted to go home. When I saw a lost seagull dashing from the traffic, I settled on visiting the nearest beach.

The sky had an overcast but the wind was timid. I walked bare foot through the sand and picked up the peebles that resembled hearts.

The scene was almost fully deprived of human-life, but the seagulls they soared. Sensing the storm I guessed, they traveled in flocks of four and looked like dancers in the sky. So beautiful I thought, to fly aimlessly greeting the rain.

I sat under a pavilion as the rain grew nastier, but I was surprisingly content with my body temperature, only wearing thin sweats I thought I should be cold.

The tides started to grow, slashing onto the land. At first slowly, but then the time between each tide was merely seconds apart.

The sky was the most pious dark of blue now looking even more extravagant at each thrashing bolt. I stared straight into the horizon listening to the powerful roars Mother nature was exhaling. At each sound, a striking vibration shot through me. The intensity was so stimulating I would compare it to a ‘release of sexual innuendo’.

Greatly overwhelmed, I rushed onto the shore. Twirling around like those dancers in the sky. Each drop of rain was now spilling onto me. It was like as if I was being cleansed by the heavens.

I began chanting a particular line from the Buddhism book I read one day at the gym. “if you don’t try to hold, you don’t suffer over the loss, you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life, its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”

“if you don’t try to hold, you don’t suffer over the loss, you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life, its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”

I kept repeating the exact lines again, and again. My body kept twisting and spinning, laughing and singing. The lightening it gleamed like swords of courage, reversing all elements that’s been keeping me discouraged. The wind directing my enjoyment, highlighting my splendor a sight of flamboyant. I tilted my head, directing towards the blue, I shouted out to my Angel’s “I know what to do!”

The rain now was pouring quite profusely, and the gusts have sent my flip flops long off to sea. Just then I heard a loud yet gentle voice call out. It was a girl, around my age id guess, maybe a little younger. She was calling out something the wind had turned to rubbish. But her gesture was telling me to hurry on over.

The condition it was outside, looked as if it was only going to get worse so I gratefully jogged toward the girl, knowing she was going to welcome me to come into her dry home.

She greeted me politely and introduced herself as Andrea Watson. She explained that this beach house belongs to her grandmother, and that she saw me outside in the storm then insisted on inviting me inside. I thanked her genuinely then asked her where her grandmother was now.

“She’s in the kitchen area boiling us a pot of tea, she thought you would like some, figured you had to be pretty cold out there.” Andrea said ending almost with a smile.

“Oh, yeah I would like a cup very much so.” I replied.

Andrea then directed me toward the bathroom area and handed me some dry clothes to borrow.

The bathroom smelled of freshly diced oranges that refreshed my liveliness. I traced my smeared makeup that trickled down my cheeks, with a warm wash cloth. I undressed completely and then I stood in the body mirror admiring what I saw. I often forgot just how striking I really looked.

In the seconds I stood there wholly in the nude my approbation suddenly curved into shock. I was startling interrupted by an innocent invasion. On honest mistake on his part, but the man that accidentally walked in saw me entirely, and my embarrassment scorned through me like the lightening that was still falling out of the sky.

I dressed promptly. The panic I felt graciously came over me and I deliberated for a second on whether or not I should escape out of the bathroom window. But that thought weakened when I realized that the storm at this moment was tremendously wicked.

I splashed my face with a handful of water from the faucet and I calmed myself, rationalizing the facts. Firstly, it would be not only rude but disrespectful to turn away from these nice people that offered me their home. Secondly, it was a mistake and when I thought about it, it was rather humorous, something out of a comedy. Lastly, given what he saw I’m quite certain it wasn’t a tragedy on his part.

After my nerves diminished a bit, I walked toward the seating area in which I was brought when I was invited inside.

There sat Andrea, and what had to be her grandmother.

“Oh dear, I apologize for Thomas barging in on you, he wasn’t aware of you being here. He was napping when you arrived.” Her grandmother exclaimed.

“Oh, no. It’s not a problem, it just took me by surprise at first.” I said with a chuckle.

“Alright then, good, please sit.” And then she handed me a cup of tea.

The three of us sat there chatting. Her grandmother (who kindly insisted on me calling her Florence) asked me the essentials. Where I live, where I attended school, Do my parents know where I am…

We sat there talking and the whole time all I could think about was Thomas. They explained that he was Andreas older brother, and that they have been staying for the week. But something felt uncanny in me when they spoke of him, or when I thought of him. Not a negative feeling once so ever, but a feeling that warmed my blood and dwindled my breath.

After awhile I asked Florence the time because I had left my cell phone inside my car, and when she told me it was 8:12, I was stunned.

“Really, oh wow.” I searched for my words. “In that case, I think I better heading home.”

Florence protested, saying that it was treacherous weather and there was no way she would let me drive home in it. She offered me her phone and told me I should call my parents and inform them that I would be staying the night.

I did just that and then Florence excused herself saying she was going to wash up and get to bed. She told Andrea to show me to the spare bedroom, when I was ready to go to sleep.

Andrea and I decided to go into the living room so we could get more comfortable. I noticed that I really enjoyed her company. She was a nice girl, ridiculously respectful which I wouldn’t expect from a girl around our age. She was taller than I was, and a lot more curvier. Her hair was dark, but I couldn’t tell the length because she had been wearing it in a bun.

Our conversation turned onto a more personal ground, due to her grandmothers absence, and the fact that we obviously felt a friendly connection.

After some time I wondered where in the hell has Thomas been this whole time? Was he hiding, did he feel ashamed, or bothered by what had happened earlier? I decided to sway mine and Andrea’s conversation and ask her about her brother.

“So where has Thomas been, did he leave?”

“No, he has been in the bedroom where he stays when he visits.” She said. “He should actually be coming out soon, my grandmother snores and he usually stays up as late as he can to avoid the retched sound.” Laughing now.

I simply nodded.

It was now ten minutes to 9:00, and Andrea was in the kitchen fixing up us some snacks. I sat there watching the breaking news that detailed the warnings of the “Monstrous” thunderstorm.

I began thinking about how strange, but nice, this whole day has been. It started off as a day of renewing my sober surveillance, and that, exactly, what it has turned out to be.

The extracting force that cleansed me on the beach, and then the chance of me meeting such a welcoming bunch, who both made a surprisingly large impression on my emotional attachment. This day couldn’t turn out more peculiar, yet great I thought. Which… in cliché terms “I spoke too soon”…

I was admiring the drapes which was a soft flower theme, when Andrea’s brother Thomas entered the room. The striking resemblance was wild and it sent my emotions into a frenzy. There he was standing a near foot away, the handsome man from the gym.

He kindly introduced himself with a voice so angelic it was almost feminine, as I once thought of his eyes. I could feel my cheeks flushing and he must have noticed because his face broke into a shy smile.

Andrea too now, was in the room and her being there calmed me a bit and I was able to relax.

“ I might be completely wrong“, Thomas directed to me. “But I think I might have met you before, but I cant specifically recall from where.”

His words were relieving because I didn’t want to be the one to first admit that we have once seen each other before tonight, before him seeing me naked. I laughed inside after I recoiled that thought.

“Yeah, actually I think I have seen you once before” I acknowledged. “You go to world fitness, do you not?”

His eyes regrouped when the information set in.

“I do, in fact I remember you were reading from a large blue book”

Him telling me this made me grasp the fact that he must have studied me in detail, so the pink in my cheeks prevailed once again.

Andrea intercepted the conversation commenting on the world being a small place, and how coincidental things turn out to be.

As the three of us sat there I could barely stay still. The breath in my lungs was gripping and I couldn’t stop glancing over at Thomas. He was just so incredibly beautiful.

We sat there and decided on watching an old horror movie. I self confessed my guts as that of a chicken, and that I most likely will be sleeping with the lights on tonight. Thomas laughed at that.

Andrea fell asleep halfway through the movie and Thomas woke her guiding her to her room.
When he came back he stood behind a corner in an attempt to scare me, but I called him out saying his change in his pocket blew him in.

I cant explain the magnitude of the vibrations in the room now, due to us being the only ones still left.

When the credits took screen I yawned and stretched out my legs.

“Tired from all the dancing in the rain?” Thomas joked.

I couldn’t help but to snicker, which ended with a snort. How absurd did I look out there in an oncoming storm, gracefully whirling around with my arms above my head.

“You wouldn’t believe how much it can really take out of you.” I humored.

“I was watching you out there, it was the most exciting thing I have had to pleasure to watch.” Thomas replied. “You looked so at peace with yourself.”

His change in mood took me back a step as I searched for words.

“I would be a liar if I didn’t say that its one of my favorite things to do.”

Thomas’s eyes glittered which distracted me from the tree branch that would break the side window.
Shocked by the crash, Thomas rose up to check out the shattering of glass we had heard.

He returned wearing the drops of rain that were deepening from the clouds. A face of concern as he explained that the weather was really getting fierce. He suggested we turn on the radio to listen to any warnings they might air.

As we sat there, I noticed his seating had been moved closer to mine now and the intensity thickened.

He shot an eyefull of beauty to me and he asked me “So, what’s your story?”

His forwardness mixed with his sincerity hit me like a car skidding helplessly off the road.

In no hesitation I replied with haste. “Well, I’m just a little lady trying to discover the worlds most magical mysteries, and in doing so with a smile on my face.”

When the words entered his ears, a sacred sense of understandment had filled the room. I studied his face for his response.

“Well, he stuttered.” “You forgot to mention the part where you flash innocent men.” His face now straining from obviously held back laughter.

I couldn’t help but to burst into hilarity. His charm was truly entrancing and i liked the way he made me feel.

I teased him about the irony about him being a ‘peeping Tom’. And we shared embarrassing stories for the next hour.

After awhile I noticed my eyes getting sluggish, and I asked him if he could direct me to the spare bedroom.
He guided through the hallway like a manic of excellence. His socks were the darkest red, which was accompanied by a small tear.

I thanked him again, for his family letting me stay the night.

“It’s really our pleasure.” he commented. “You have a good night little lady.” His words were nearly enough to send me to the dark side of the moon, and if that wasn’t enough his commendation wink shuttled my rocket, which left me aimlessly along with the stars.


As I tucked myself in, I, living up to my word had the lamp on.

I lay there covered in a quilt so unfamiliar but somehow felt like home. In the least, I felt right.

Sleep came easy, I drifted away so brilliantly that when I dreamt I was in a stance of utter tranquility.

I was my shadow in the sun. Migrating from a building to the next. It was the oddest dream, and I was awakened by a crack of thunder, and I was surprised to have woken up in a darkened room.

My first thought was that maybe Florence had peeped in to turn off the light, but it was quickly forgotten when I realized it was a mishap from the storm.

I sat there weary whether or not I should awake Andrea, or even Thomas and tell them about the power outage. But I decided against it, not really aware of where their rooms were. And rummaging in a dark foreign home was not something I favored.

I laid there now listening to the howling of the wind, and I couldn’t get the image of Thomas’s quirked smile from my thoughts. It sounded silly to me, but I felt a secure comforting connection with him. Something out of a vintage poem.

Suddenly a strong breeze flew through my heart, and I heard a tiny knock at my door that sounded as if it were a single knuckle. I validation wavered over me and before I could speak, the door creaked open. There in the shadowed doorway stood Thomas holding a candle.

I jumped at the acknowledgment.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he asked.

I assured him that he didn’t, that the weather beat him too it moments ago.

He admitted to noticing that my light was on earlier realizeing I was being truthful about being a wuss. He wanted to bring me a candle when he saw that the lights in the house failed in the storm.

I chuckled a bit and then I thanked him for his thoughtfulness.

His face was even more kind in the flickering flame, and I reached for words because I wasn’t ready for him to leave.

“So, Thomas, What’s your story?” I said almost in a whisper.

He shot me a pearly smile and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

The anticipation grew inside of me, when I watched him twirl in his mind for his answer.

“Well.. I’m just a guy seeking the real me. I compromise my actions, but never my beliefs. I burry myself in truth, and I approach life and each turn with a question. I thirst for knowledge, and I enjoy the company of an odd, yet remarkable little lady.”

His sentences fled through my veins, and busted through my soul. I was speechless and I couldn’t help but to shed a tear of splendor.

I sat up quaintly and stared into his lapus stones. He reached for my face and kissed me so inclusively it penetrated my soul. It was the one kiss, that would change my life.

I woke up to the smell of over syrupy pancakes. The over domineering stench that tickled my waking. I was giddy this morning, for reasons explained in my late night reservations. I felt like an entirely fixed girl, with a flirtatious smile. I wasn’t nervous at all to see Thomas sitting at the table casually sipping on a glass of milk.

“Good morning, Florence called out” “Did you sleep well?” Her detailed tone ravished my ears, and I complied with a grace of gratitude.

Thomas was looking striking in his flannel top and relaxed jeans. I was happy to see the matching firty smile he too wore.

“I see the boogey monster didn’t inject you with his presence last night.” He said in a jokingly manner.

I nudged him lightly and took a seat at the table.

Andrea was fetching the toast when Florence reiterated the damage that the storm had recalled. She talked about how trees all over the area had be ripped to shreds, and the nearest highway had been temporarily out of commission. I worried for a second, realizing that I knew no other route home.

“Hunnie“, Florence smiled at me. “You surely must stay for dinner, this way we could wait on word about the roads“.

I obliged and a warm prickle touched inside of me, because I knew it meant I could spend more time with Thomas.

After breakfeast, Andrea insisted on us heading out to the water to catch an early swim. I reminded her that I didn’t have a change of clothes, and a swim suit to say the least but she offered me one of her own.

I accepted her offer and made a crack at Thomas about how I was going to the bathroom to change, and that one free show was enough.

He laughed, and his crinkled nose made me sink like a little girl.

Out on the beach the sight was especially gorgeous today. Something about the post prevailing of mother nature made the most unique rapture on the scene. Andrea then shined a puzzling smile toward me, and when she spoke the eerie feeling deepened my enthusiasm.

“Soooo.” Andrea coyly yawned.

“Soo?” I answered, a bit confused.

“What’s with the googoly eyes between you and my brother?”

I cringed with defeat, wanting right then and there to indulge about my over powering senses I felt toward him, but I was resistant.

“What ever do you mean?” I asked.

“I’m not blind you know?” “I saw the way you two were looking at each other.” she admitted. “You know, Thomas is really… funny about who he migrates toward, but the way he was eying you this morning, I would dare say he has a thing for you.”

Her words pierced through my skin, and I had the sudden urge to call out for it felt as if my heart was trying to escape from my chest.

“Oh?” is all I could rummage.

“Yeah, but there is something you should know about Thomas.” Andrea leaked. “He is an incredible person, aside from being reluctant toward most girls.” “He had a over diminishing past relationship that he tends to compare, sometimes he is impossible to reach emotionally.”

Stunned by her words, I couldn’t believe what she was saying. If that in fact was legitimate, Thomas completely one hundred percent “got” me. The chemistry him and I shared was too immense to be fabricated.

I smiled at her genuinely, being thankful for her words. I then looked over the crisp morning horizon and imagined a soft prayer.

My mind was mesmerizing and I dozed off into my own thoughts.

Not a cloud in sight, only the shadow of my hand,
Can this be a trace of him, who, my beloved man.
The trees swauk as the wind carries it on,
The pebbles swim around, can this be a sign leading me to my beloved man?
The robins tweak for the longer days,
And the shine absorbs my gentlest of ways.
Its like a mist, blown to me, like a fan.
The heavens praise, this can very well be your beloved man.

I ventured off alone down the strip of the sand and I collected the prettiest of rocks, each reminding me a little of Thomas. I sat alone in the sand while the wind trickled my hair.

The amount of happiness I felt was too matchless to explain, I can only feel it. I splashed my toes in the breezy water and I thanked my lord for this beautiful blessing. I wasn’t broken afterall. This was just the beginning of my bias and I was willing to plunge in with all that I had.

What came next was too overbearing for noticeable conduct.

“There you are, I heard him call out from a distance.”

I turned knowing exactly what I wanted. Him.

I greeted him with a sensible smile, and I motioned for him to take a seat next to me in the sand.

We sat there for an instant just feeling each others high pitched vibrations. I broke the silence.

“What are your beliefs, you mentioned last night?”

My question caught him off guard and I appreciated his time for preciseness. It showed me that the importance of his principles were very dear to him.

“Well, I’m what you would call a truth addict.” he answered. “no matter how ugly or grotesque, I feel like the truth is what matters in the end.” “I believe in faith and inner guidance.” “Also that there must, need, to be a higher power but I still haven’t quite came to amends with yet.” “beauty and grace are the means of importance.” “it’s the smallest things that have the greatest impact of a persons well being.” “And true love, I strongly believe in true love.”

When he finished my daze was uncanny, but strictly clear. The man sitting next to me, I loved. I loved with a passion so directly that I felt like I was caught on fire.

This overbearing recognition was so tremendous, I couldn’t keep it inside of me any longer. I scampered with restlessness and I exhaled a word.

“luminous.”

His timid lips reached for mine, and we embraced in a magical meeting.

The scent of his skin earnest with enchantment. I felt like a lost cause drug user, with his kiss being my downfall.

After the entanglement, he mumbled something that at first I thought I mistakenly heard. “I love you.”

As the day ticked on, so did my patience of doubtfully visions. Did Thomas tell me that he loved me? Could he of said that, right there, out in the open air without me fully remembering? The thoughts lessened at the time ticked scarcely between us.

We flirted, and cuddled and joked about reluctances of the world. But my never ending anxiety always reiterated my possible knowledge of Thomas’s feelings.

We had pasta for dinner, and Thomas studied my moves like a scientist on a breakthrough mission. It made me feel alive, I have long forgotten what it felt like to me adored by a man, truly idolized. It felt nice.

After the meal, I unwillingly decided to head back home, for my absence had been long prevailed. I said my teary goodbyes, for it was a bonding experience I had created, with each member.

Thomas walked me out to where my car was destined in the poor conditions a day ago. And he first handedly choked up with admitting that he wanted nothing more but to hop in with me and come meet my family. I laughed inside at this notion, for if he only knew my family, he wouldn’t be so eager. But I kissed him like they do in the movies where the husband gets shipped off to war, and that was the only thing I would think about for the entire ride home.

When I walked inside my door, the essence of harmony lingered with me. I reasoned with myself to shower and the simplest day to day activity was essential in a matter of fact way.

After my cleansing I skipped to the kitchen to fetch my cell phone charger. I slapped it in the clasp and I headed upstairs.

I took a nap, a dreamless state but I woke up restored. I dripped down my stairs, and grabbed my phone before I fixed myself a sandwich. I glanced at the time discovering that I had a new text message. A zephyr without warning dug out my pulse, grasping the fact that I knew who it was from.

I shut my eyes tightly then hit the button to read what was sent.

“I hope you didn’t have trouble getting home. Oh and by the way you look beautiful in your bare skin.” He finalized the message with a devious little smiley face. While my pulse rabidly bounced around.

Without a minute passing I responded back to Thomas, and then he called me where we then talked for about an hour.

We had made plans for the following night, and that he would pick me up around 7:00.
We ate dinner at a low key restaurant that showed tons of character. The painting next to our table was one I knew well that was master pieced by an artist whom suffered from schizophrenia.

While dining we talked by a whisker and mostly just sent each other kittenish eyes.

After the meal we drove to a secluded spot where Thomas said was very dear to him, the one place he went to be alone.

We sat chit-chatting in his car. I felt so protected when I was with him. It was as if anything could happen but I knew nothing, not even the sky falling, could tremor me.

His lips they flamed as he confided in me about memories and hardships he had experienced. I knew then that the feeling of ultimate safety was mutual in our link.

When he paused, I couldn’t resist but to comment on the fact the time was 9:44.

“Silly I know, I exclaimed.” “But I have sort of a ’tied’ union, towards the number four.”

He looked at me in disbelief, and then I got a peculiar feeling like he was scrutinizing me. Embarrassed as I was I still thought I should explain what exactly I meant by ’tied’. I then blabbed on about its ’coincidental’ factors it shared with me. The whole time in me doing so, Thomas’s face was the palest of color, and in moonlight it almost looked blue.

“Weird I know.” I admitted, with a coy look.

“Weird couldn’t even justify the abnormality of it all.” He added.

Before I could reach for something to say he opened his mouth to elaborate.

“What I mean is.. I too have a direct intimacy with that number.” “I was almost blown away, literally inside, when you shared that.” he kept the conversation going by saying how when he was 4 years old, he watched his father die in a car accident, bleeding to death while the ambulance were on their way. This gave me shivers that hemorrhaged my heart. He also admitted that his birthday was October 4th, and that he too had similar dispatches the same as me.

“I just couldn’t quite figure out what it had meant.” He said. “There was a point in time where I became borderline obsessed, but then I figured it was something that you could never search for its meaning.” “It just has to happen, and then it will be, and you will know it.”

I stayed dreamy in his words and there was nothing left to be said. I darted out of the car tearing each clothing of mine off in a brisk heat. It was drizzling now, and I merrily yelled for him to join me.

He mimicked my action and I grabbed his hands urging him to dance with me.

The moon was full, and it shined perfectly on our unclothed skin.

My blood was pumping so fiercely I thought that it could pour out of me. I jumped in his arms and he squeezed me close. I could feel his heart beating. Actually ‘feel’ it, trembling against my bare body. He kissed me with so much passion that it felt like another world. He penetrated inside of me and at each thrust I seizured with love’s donation. It was an experience I never could have imagined. And it was one, I surely will never be able to forget.

Back in his car now, we were like little kids giggling without a care. When silence presented we sat there and stared. He ran his finger down the bone of my cheek, and said how blessed he was to have met me. I cried now, not one, not two, but a pool of tears, and asked him where god has been hiding him all of these years. He kissed the tip of my nose with much ease, and he asked “Love me lady, will you please?”
I kissed his nose, like he did too, I opened my eyes and said “I already do.”

When we got to my house we sat on my porch. I sat on his lap and he held me, which made me feel like one of those bright burning stars that I have wished upon hundreds, and hundreds of times.

We shared our secrets and kisses and then he asked me something that stung a little somewhere but not in my heart.

“The tattoo across your chest, does it mean anything?”

I cringed at the truth behind it, and I admitted its relevance.

“Well, it’s a cupid shooting an arrow into a heart. The arrowhead currently being shot has the suffix III in it. I was ashamed. “My ex boyfriend was the 3rd, I went and got it colored in but when it healed, you could still see it. .”

His eyes gleamed like the calmest part of the ocean. Then he reached for his pocket. He handed me his license which confused me in the most puzzling way. I flipped it over, It read ’Thomas Travis III’. And then a painful sweet explosion transcended reforming me into a stage of extraordinary potential, and I was born.

It was a chilly morning when I set out to the birch tree I once scampered through. In finding it a cardinal so seemingly followed me, praising me with his chirping songs.

I looked for the opening I had found oddly the time before. When I appeared at the stream where the magnificent tigress was once with her wandering questions, I sat disappointed when I didn’t see her existent in place. I took out the note that I recovered from the Indian reservation and I set it in the water, in hoping it would reach the beauty beast one day. I wished it could help her to answer her prayers, as it had helped with my own.

My old world was gone, and I had found my place that I am fortunate to be blessed with. Tons of despair and despondency was inflicted on my voyage of emerging, but I now know that it was a demanding part in order to fulfill the task, and the reward.

I juddered the words “its in your dream.” And I sat knowing in all truth, what it meant. The dream is in me, I am the dream. Then I climbed back up to the ground of the earth.

I touched the tree and gave it my dedication. I turned toward the sun and I whispered “Thank you my Angels, for helping me finish my very last stitch.”

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 14.05.2010

Alle Rechte vorbehalten