Story Time · Weekly Writing Challenge

Time, Fleeting Love

This week, we’re asking you to consider things from a different point of view — to walk a mile in someone’s shoes. Leave your moccasins and bunny slippers at the door, and tell us a tale from a fully-immersed perspective that is not your own.

Her:

I still remember the day we met as if it just happened. I can see it replaying in front of my eyes as if I’m watching a movie. I see it. I see it all. Not as if it happened yesterday, but as if it happened minutes ago. I can still see his face as he looked at me and held out his hand. I still remember how he pulled me gently towards him and we began to spin slowly around the room. I assume that I was standing alone by the bar hoping that some handsome young man would ask me to dance. I vaguely remember the song playing and the other dancers around us, but what I really only saw was him. His blue eyes, his dark hair, his smile that reached his eyes and caused a slight crinkle at the edges. I remember his hand on the small of my back as he slowly dipped me and brought me back towards his body. I don’t even remember the shoes I was wearing or the dress I had on. I only remember him. I still remember everything about him.

During our first dance we never even spoke, we simply moved to the music and let our bodies do the talking. I met him for the 2nd time two weeks later at a coffee shop not far from the dance hall.  He stood in the doorway as if transfixed by what he saw. I myself, found it hard to look away. I had, in the deepest depths of my heart, imagined this moment many times. He was on my mind even when I didn’t realize it. He crept in when I least expected it and when I most needed it. But I always reminded myself to be practical about it. There was never really a chance that I would see the beautiful man who took my breathe away with a single glance. After all, I had previously never been so lucky.

But as soon as I saw his face again. As soon as I saw him smile, a smile that I knew was for me and only me, I knew what I may have always known. I loved him. In a fleeting and time consuming way. I had loved him from the very first moment.

Him:

She was unlike anything I had ever seen before. An angel, maybe. But I couldn’t be sure. I had never seen an angel before either. She stood alone by the bar in a long light blue lace dress. She had on dark blue heels that she didn’t look entirely comfortable in. She did, however, look lonely. She head tipped toward her drink but she immediately put it back down with a look of defeat on her dark features. My father told me to never ask a lonely woman to dance. Look for the eager ones. The eager ones will show you a good time but leave when they’ve gotten what they came for. But a lonely woman. A lonely woman might just make you fall in love with her. Love was something my father was never after. I wasn’t sure yet if I could say the same for myself.

As if of my own subconscious volition, I was standing beside her with my hand, palm facing up, reaching toward her. She looked up, dark eyes focusing on me, and slowly put her hand in mine and let me whisk her away onto the middle of the dance floor. We spun for what felt like years and in those short minutes I felt as if I had always done with dance, with this woman, every moment of my pent up life.

She never spoke and I didn’t dare break the silence. There was only the small intake of breathe as I placed a hand on the small of her back, dipped her and brought her back towards my body, our eyes meeting again and this time transfixing. It was as if we had suddenly melded together, into one eternal being, neither pushing or pulling from the other.

I didn’t see her again for two weeks and in those weeks I had a tightening in my head and in my heart that I had never felt before. But the minute I saw her, sitting in the coffee shop, head low towards a book and her cup, the tightness lifted and I could once again breathe easy. I knew then what I supposed I had known from that very first moment.

I really should have listened to my father.

Pingbacks!

  1. Weekly Writing Challenge: Perspectives | A mom’s blog
  2. Inside the head of a sporadic three year old | From One Crazy Life To Another
  3. Fifteen Year Old Me Is Disgusted | The Cheese Whines
  4. Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave your shoes at the door! | khaula mazhar
  5. The Curse of Personal Knowledge | Emotional Fitness
  6. Elvis Insults My Intelligence | Bumblepuppies
  7. Weekly Challenge: A Mile in your Fur | Confessions of a Nerdy Girl
  8. Weekly writing challenge – leave your shoes at the door | Susi Matters
  9. Let’s Do Something Amazing! | rarasaur
  10. DP weekly challenge – shoes – A morning in the life of sonny Jim. |
  11. That’s not me | Mort La Datorie
  12. In the mind of a dolphin kidnapper | In my world
  13. The Color Purple, Maybe/DPChallenge | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  14. Other point of views – For the Dailypost | readsomethingdifferent
  15. My Parents’ Divorce: Weekly Word Challenge | Between Madness & Euphoria
  16. When is ‘now’ over so ‘later’ can start? | New tricks for old dogs
  17. Bête Noire | Paper Plane Pilots
  18. Appreciating my Parents after Rearing my own Children, DPchallenge | Angela McCauley
  19. Not All Shoes Fit The Same | The Chatter Blog
  20. in the middle of the night | The Matticus Kingdom
  21. The language barrier | Never Stationary
  22. Perhaps today will snow « Dancing with Fireflies
  23. A Day In The Life | Perceptive Pot Clueless Kettle
  24. Switching It Up: DP Weekly Challenge | The Tawny’s Blog
  25. Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes At The Door | imagination
  26. Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes at the Door | Picayune Pieces
  27. Can you Imagine Being Gay? | Abstractions of Life
  28. Platonic Shift | Brain Droppings
  29. Leave Your Shoes At The Door: Memory Clinic | At least we made it this far…
  30. Introverts, Elephants | thanks for letting me autograph your cat
  31. Front Door Shoes | Wendy Karasin – Musings of a Boomer
  32. From Lima Beans To Turtles | Fish Of Gold
  33. Birthdays | This thing called, “Life.”
  34. Mommy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | Love.Books.Coffee.
  35. Sitting In a Pew | The Photo Faith Challenge
Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Time, Fleeting Love

Leave a Reply. The Woodelves will get back to you.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s