bedizen

The house was redecorated, even the chairs reupholstered. However silly Mike found it, this was important to Sylvia. The parade of homes was always such a pretentious event. Their neighbors showing off their exotic skins, antique silver and marble flooring. But their walls lacked any sentiments. They were filled with Picasso, Rembrandt, or a copy at least. The flowers were always real though.

Sylvia was busy arranging their own flowers in the dining room. She had pulled the white lace curtains to draw in the daylight. He watched her move the roses with such deftness. When people toured the homes, they saw this carefully crafted beauty and fawned over it. But they never saw what was real, what really made the home. He was glad that she left the pictures of the family as well as Derek's toys in the foyer.

kismet

He pulled her out into the hallway and swung her around as the door thudded closed. She cringed at the coldness of the tiles as he pressed her against the wall. The most ridiculously impish grin consumed his face. He brushed a stray hair from her face that moved from the false breeze of the abruptly shut door. Still, she refused to ruin her composure.

"Tell me," he smiled. "You can tell me. I know you couldn't before, and I acted so stupid. Tell me now."

She caught her mouth dropping but didn't speak. He continued, eyes hard on her.

"I just couldn't bear it. I couldn't take the jealousy. How you could throw your affections away on an imbecile. So I couldn't face you, and I couldn't tell you."

She could feel burning in her cheeks. She wanted to wipe them away against the wall so he couldn't see the red.

He blinked and suddenly everything was soft and gentle. "I wanted to tell you so much. Every time I saw you, but every time I ran. We're supposed to be together, I know it." He stepped back slightly to give her a moment's breath before he completely pushed his body against hers.

"Tell me. Tell me," he whispered in her ear. "You have to tell me. I'm not going to let you go until you tell me."

"Tell me and I'm yours. Just tell me," he coaxed.

She could not help but agree.

fallible

Claire felt light. It was a different feeling, almost spirited. Her gown billowed but she felt no wind against her skin, only warmth. She could make out his silhouette through the transparency. He approached and took her hand. She asked him where they were going.

"Nowhere Claire. We're still here."

"Where are we now?"

"Some place you'll know much later." He smiled with such gentleness and she tried to remember where they might have met before. But she couldn't see him as well as she hoped. She couldn't tell what color his eyes were.

"I'm afraid," Claire paused, "I'm afraid I've done something wrong."

He pulled Claire closer, "I know, but these things happen, sometimes unavoidable. It's not your fault." He touched Claire's cheek and she could not cry.

"It's not time. You will all make mistakes, but you must understand for yourself." And with that he let go of her. She felt the wind again and her chest drop.

Claire could hear faint beeping behind her as she opened her eyes. The doctor's eyes greeted her warmly, "Welcome back Claire."

perdurable

my cardiac arrest: when you lose hope in forevers

it's in the trash
with everything in my heart
except the attack

magniloquent

Magnanimous. You're joking, he thought.
Breathtaking. Enchanting. Incredibly captivating.
Too much. Not quite right. It was becoming impossible to find the right word, which he found surprising when his whole career was words. Editing books on a continuous basis, something so simple could not be beyond his Oxford years.
Enthralling. Stunning. All encompassing.
Seriously? Thumbing through a reference book would provide no help.

What was it when she danced? When her left hip shifted as she greeted him. There was always a softness in her.

True. Just true. True.
If words could leave paper and exit his lips.

neophyte

Words complicate things, she said. Don't say much, just something to get their attention, then price. Wear something loud, like shiny and really tight. I'll let you borrow a few things if you want. But treat him nice, but not too nice, you know. You want to leave a little to the imagination you know what I mean?

Try not to kiss him on the lips. Be, you know, sexy seductive kind of thing. Like Pretty Woman, you seen that movie? That Julia Roberts lady, she's like all classy but like sexy. Clean too. That's up to you.

Listen to me though, you're new at this and I gotta tell you this. Never, never get emotional. You can't love him, so don't let him love you. It just complicates things. I like Julia Roberts and all you know, but that stuff never happens. It just never happens. You're always beneath.