I remember fondly the summer I met her. Our eyes locked. Soon after, our fingers did the same, as we blushed and giggled when we looked at each other after our first time. I said it was she my first and lied. I suspected she did the same. By the end of summer, I was convinced we were in love, love meant forever, love meant to last the test of time. By the middle of autumn, I had trouble remembering her name.
Thanks to Dan, here’s a writing game that’s pretty darn fun courtesy of One Word. You have one word, and write about it for sixty seconds. I don’t like it, but, I’m not going to like everything I write.
Our route through Cleveland took us around the city. No one actually went into town anymore, since the entirety of Cleveland was more or less it’s suburbs, and nothing else.
I watched it approach and seconds later, disappear in the mirror. I wasn’t sorry to see it go. My route took me through Chicago now.
Fists unclenching, he swallowed back his pride and disgust.
“Right away,” he said, meaning “Fuck you.”
Someday, he’d quit. Today, he’d make coffee. They’ll see.
“I wish I could lose weight like you are,” she sighed. “What’s your secret?”
I looked at the ham sandwich in her hand, the fifth she’d eaten on her lunch hour, each impossibly filled with ham, tomatoes and cheese. Hiding somewhere in the mess had to be mayo and pickles; I could smell each hanging in the air. I shrugged.
She squinted her already squinty eyes sunken into her apple sized cheeks and frowned. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’ll get there one day.” As she bit down, a tomato fell out of her sandwich. She barely noticed.
He wasn’t looking for her and yet, In the moment their eyes met, they’d had their first date, their second date. They met and loved family, were married, had children and grown old together, he dying before her, she unable to live without him deteriorated quickly and passed soon after. He knew he had to say hello, he knew he’d never have another chance, and through the crowded room, he moved toward her.
He never found her, though he found other fleeting glances all the same. None matched that moment again.