decry

We met when I was fifteen, Frank was ten and unknowingly involved. Frank had dropped his ice cream and was complaining, and I was fumbling through my backpack for some change when Johnny came up and offered to pay for another cone. I agreed and then he picked me up the next day to take me to the movies.

The first time we kissed was three weeks later. We just finished dinner at Ruby's and my breath smelled like garlic. He laughed before he leaned in to my hair. I could see the strands quiver under his breath. It was soft, gentle and I don't remember anything but it tasting sweet.

The day he lowered himself on one knee I said, "Absolutely Johnny dear," in a heart beat. The ring was small but he had worked all summer for this falling-leaf proposal. I remember the crisp crackle underneath our shoes and our backs. The leaves were so soft and sweet.

We got married on the beach because it felt more open-minded. Our parents objected the whole time, up to the actual ceremony when the pastor pronounced us man and wife. For that moment, they paused, split-second respect, until the reception where they again shared their grievances.

It's typical when you marry young to expect failure. It's typical to be reminded you'll meet failure. Repeatedly, so we don't believe. When Johnny and I used to go to the beach, we run our fingers through the muddy sand. Sometimes I wonder, when the marks we'd drawn washed away, if they thought this is how we'd end. But Johnny always knew, it's always forever. Even if we aren't physically here anymore. Soul mates are forever.

untoward

The climb had been more than well-planned, and we were thankful for the good weather and the lack of untoward circumstances. Probably due to the fact we barely spoke under our harried breath. As we summited, we saw further into rows and rows of white-green ripples. Such contrast to the dirty, muddy snow beneath our wet boots that eradicated our faults. Jim turned to me and nodded politely, "Well, I suppose you're right."

annus mirabilis

She leaned forward, slightly drunk, waving her glass towards me, offering a sip of the sparkling concoction. She rose partially out of her chair, refusing to be bound by her cloth napkin as it plummeted to the floor.

She raised her glass in toast, "Annus mirabilis," she said, with a soft curl in her lips. She nodded towards me so I could see only the light hitting her forehead and glazed eyes. A few strands of dark hair fell across to conceal resentment.

The dipping of her head was followed with a polite curtsy, then a return to a poised body, she stood fully. A column of chiffon, layers upon layers of age, and the same pristine face. She understood the composure of cosmetics and grace.

When the ceremony ended, I stole away to silently follow her lavendar scent.

newspeak

simple, so we cannot say otherwise

exacerbate

It's so easy to provoke her. One little comment, one off-beaten touch. Keep her off my path. We decided it'd be better. I don't know how to tell her, how humor shields my hurt. When she laughs, with those eyes. When she frowns, with those eyes. And I spend every waking moment with that smile because I must spend sleeping nights alone.

parietal

Speak when you're spoken to, and when you're not. You have to decide where the balance is and how much you flaunt your intellect. We pick and choose our partners like we pick and choose are classes where we picked and chose our professors. To impress. I twiddle my thumbs and run fingers through my hair, idly watching the older generation (only by a year or so) draw their circles pass me. To separate. This is wrong, I feel thin-sliced incorrectly. I am not a fool, just uncertain with my head in New York City clouds. Sorry, haven't returned yet. Ring tomorrow.

Why do I find this all so revolting?

I thought I would understand by now what so inherently interested me in this field, but why is something that grabs me in a field I decided to bypass. Irony is never easy. Irony is not for the weak. I almost forgot, I have a job to do.

I want to learn, I tell myself, so ignore pretensions and embarrassment. Ignore.

feign

I watched her pull the shiny, layered silk dress over the lumps of her body. Despite her slightly full frame, it was too loose, but I waited for her to prompt me before I gave my opinion. The wrinkles were already creasing the silk as she pushed out her right hip, and the fabric sashayed with her sudden movement.

"See how the fabric drapes over my curves? It's gorgeous," she said. I looked at her and smiled, nodding my head in agreement. Kept nodding as she twirled, sat, got up and twirled again.

"I just love the detailing," she exclaimed, pointing to the royal-colored gemstones across her neck. Purple, green and blue, vivid, very vivid. I saw myself looking at myself through their vividness. I wondered what I should say.

"It's a nice dress. It's very well-made, but I think it's too big for you," I said hesitantly. She wrinkled her nose at my comment about it's size, but nodded.

"Yes, yes, I know. But it's incredible. It's such a wonderful piece, and I could take it in," she replied, pulling the silk back around her hips, desperate to keep her treasured discovery.

I understood her appreciation. She lifted the dress over her head and replaced it on its hanger. I noticed her contemplating, about what characteristics exactly I'm not sure, the likelihood of wearing the dress.

I bought the dress for her, knowing to me she looked beautiful with or without it. But if it made her feel beautiful, how could I deny her such a small satisfaction.

ersatz

Too tall. Too small. Too big. Too punctual. Too haughty. Too serious. Too immature. Too crazy. Too close-minded. Too open-minded. Too athletic. Too sexy. Too expensive. Too frugal. Too someone else. Not you.

circumspect

She is cautious with herself, her manner and the way she places her hand next to his arm. Softly, carefully, until the weight transfers to the shallow blue next to him. She waits, and he doesn't flinch. Her body shifts as she slides out of bed, a choice she makes as she creeps out the door.