I hadn't seen her in 3 years, and suddenly she was there on my front porch. She was sitting on the ratty green lawn chair, blinking in the afternoon sun.
I had been walking up the steps with my head down, fumbling for my keys and thinking about laundry. When I saw her my heart leapt into my throat and a crackling-shooting electricity zipped to my toes and fingertips. I almost toppled backwards, but managed to grip the railing before I dashed my blood and brains all over the pebbly concrete.
She blinked again, and stood. Her lips and eyes crinkled into a small smile, and she tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. She looked lovely--slimmer than she was before, but still soft and rounded. Her cheeks were flushed deep pink, from the Indian summer heat or from nerves, I wasn't sure which.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, the words rushing out before I had time to think. Her mouth straightened and her eyes lost their softness. I knew, before I saw her reaction, that it was the wrong thing to say. I wished I could snatch the words out of the air, but they hovered there in the heavy silence.
The last time I had seen her, it was the other side of summer. Buds bursting from trees, dewy cool air, freshness and newness permeating the earth. A light and breezy backdrop for the scorching hell of losing her.
Posted by thevieve at September 21, 2005 11:23 AM