"Perspectives wrapped in stories that challenge your belief system, and how you see others."
“Levi, you need to stop talking like that.” She looked at the man with the bright red hair and remarkable sea green eyes. He was the best kisser she’d ever known and could kiss her senseless. Two heads taller than she, he made her glow all over when she was in his arms.
WC: 876/Full Critique
Stine typed away on her computer. That she had been downstairs in her office in her basement for a considerable length of time had not registered in her mind. Upstairs, she thought she heard someone kicking against her door and she stood up to go see if it was who she thought it was, not bothering to look in the mirror hanging on the wall, which encased one side of her stairway. If she had, her bloodshot eyes surrounded by dark circles, her growling stomach, and the tired, tense muscles in her neck and shoulders would have told her she’d worked through the night.
On her way up, she stumbled over a carton of milk she put on her the fifth step and almost collided with her black cat, Clay, who was fussing. Unlike Abbey, who waited patiently for her food, Clay thought he was the boss of the house; his meows were commands to do his bidding, immediately.
That must be Levi. He’s the only one who would have the audacity to kick on my door? She thought as she looked out the window. She scrunched her eyebrows, surprised; the sun was shining.
Either, I’m living through a long afternoon or the evening is awfully bright. No wonder you’re fussing, Clay.
She looked at her wall clock.
“Oh my God, I’ve done it again,” she said to Clay. “Fresh cat food on the way but let me open the door for Levi, first.”
“Wow, you look terrible! What have you been drinking?” Said Levi, standing before her with a large gift-wrapped package in his arms.
“Levi Mata, I haven’t been drinking; I’ve been working. What do you want this time of the evening?”
“It’s a new day after twelve-thirty so you mean early afternoon, don’t you?”
“Levi, tell me what you want or I’m shutting the door in your face? I’m tired, and my cats are hungry. So be quick about it.”
“I see you’ve worked through the night again. Not good for your health, Snuggle Poo.”
“Levi…?”
“Poo, I brought you your Valentine’s present.”
“When are you going to stop? What have I done to deserve you as my next-door neighbor?”
“Out the way, Snuggle Poo,” Levi said as he walked into her house, ignoring her question.
“Levi, I’m not accepting your present,” Stine said to his back as she followed him to her kitchen. “So, you need to take it back to wherever it came from.”
“Snuggle Poo, where do you want to open your gift? On the table or the marble top counter?” He asked entering the kitchen.
“You’re not listening to me.”
“You trying to be difficult.” He placed the large package on the marble top counter. “Sometimes, new love reacts frigidly,” he said but I still love you, and I bought you the perfect gift for Valentine.”
“Levi, you need to stop talking like that.”
Stine looked at the man with the bright red hair and remarkable sea green eyes. He was the best kisser she knew and could kiss her senseless. Two heads taller than she, he made her glow all over when she was in his arms. She rolled her eyes and gazed up at him in exasperation.
“Stop trying to aggravate me, Snuggle Poo. Valentine’s Day is three days away…”
“What…?”
“Don’t interrupt me. Open your present.”
“No.”
“You don’t have any choice in the matter, my dear Snuggle Poo.”
“Stop calling me Snuggle Poo!”
“My, aren’t we grouchy today. Be kind or I won’t cook your favorite dinner tonight. Open your present!”
“You know this is not going to work, don’t you, Levi?”
“Who says it’s not?”
“I do. We’re two different people.”
“I hope so.”
“I’m the first woman of color with a short stubby afro you’ve dated, and you think you’re in love, but it’s all up here," she said pointing at his head.
“My mind and body tell me differently, Snuggle Poo, and yours does too.”
“Now, you’re assuming things. Go find someone your age.”
“Is the ten-year difference between us really what’s bothering you?”
“Let’s just say, if I knew how old you were two months ago, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in my kitchen right now.”
“My luck. I’m hooked on you Babe,” Levi said and began filling Clay’s cat bowl with his favorite wet cat food.
Stine went to her kitchen cupboards and took out scissors and opened the gift-wrapped box he had placed on her counter. She gasped.
“It’s the Saeco Xelsis Evo Superautomatic Coffee Machine I fell in love with at the appliance store! Beautiful, but…”
“No, buts. That’s our first-ever-together appliance, and today, we’ll baptize it into ours.”
“Levi, you’re so sweet to me.”
“Then, say yes. Admit you feel the same way I do.”
“What if…?”
“Don’t go there. What ifs are for ignoramuses, and we ignore ignorance.”
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
“Yeah, Snuggle Poo, I do. So, what do you say?”
“You’re calling me Snuggle Poo again.”
“Okay, what do you say, Stine?”
“Thank you.”
“And?”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m very sure.”
“Will you be my Valentine?”
“I thought you’d never asked, Snuggle Poo,” he said, stretching out his arms and bringing her into them. “Now, give me a kiss me.”
***
The wind was tossing the thin translucent drapes hanging from the drapery rods high, lifting and tying them as it blew them in different directions. Angry, her own anger matched the approaching storm, and she hurled her shoes in the darkness; her purse followed. She heard the content fall to the carpet but didn’t make any effort to turn the light on to gather them. Confused and hurting, she walked to the large window to look up at the dark, angry sky.
The Sunlight Dialogues by John Gardner
Riding horses in a back pasture, gone wild. Woods. Inside, on a hill, a house as black as dinosaur bones. Grass grows up through the driveway’s broken asphalt, but there is a car. This is the house of the oldest Judge in the world. The Judge has company.
John Gardner’s Prologue to The Sunlight Dialogues immediately drew me in. His first sentence, “Riding horses in a back pasture, gone wild” caught me up and I saw land no longer cultivated. His description, “grass grows up through the driveway,” gave me a picture of a driveway beaten down by weeds, and I laughed when he wrote, “but there is a car.”
My setting from Turn The Light On, WC:854 FCA
Puffy, dark clouds clustered together hiding the moon when Della opened the door to her apartment. She placed her keys on the large wooden key holder that hung on the left side of the wall without thinking about turning on her lights. Even though it was early October, it was extremely warm and she kicked off her shoes and carried them in her hands. That the hallway was dark didn’t bother her; she walked down it as lightning blitz across the sky; her shoes in one hand; her purse strap hanging over her shoulder.
Approaching her kitchen door, she stopped and noticed that the wind coming through her opened kitchen window had blown her letters that were on the kitchen table to the floor; the pictures and what-nots hanging on the wall were rattling their dissatisfaction, so she entered and closed the window and hurriedly picked up the fallen letters and laid them back on the table before going to her living room.
In her living room, the wind was tossing the thin translucent drapes hanging from the drapery rods high, lifting and tying them as it blew them in different directions. Her repressed anger matched the approaching storm, and she hurled her shoes off into the darkness; her purse followed. She heard the content fall to the carpet but didn’t make any effort to turn the light on to gather them. Confused and hurting, she walked to the large window to look up at the dark, angry sky.
Suddenly, she sensed a presence, and goose bumps broke out on her arms. She felt she was no longer alone.
You're here; somewhere, in my living room, she thought. It’s got to be you.
Infuriated at him for daring to enter her apartment; for leading her on for one whole year; in her anger, her stubborn spirit reared its head.
Two can play your game; I’ll just let you wait until I get ready to confront you. She stood before the huge glass window and the wind tossed the sheer drapes to and fro trying to envelope her; she felt no fear.
I was right then. You're back in town, so, why weren't you at the restaurant?
A feeling of relief ran through her body, and tears gathered in her eyes, and she brushed them away with her hands as they ran down her face. She had missed him––her stranger without a name. He had never left her for two months. She shuddered at the intimacy, at the emotional entwinement to a stranger, an assassin she didn't even know by name––her stranger.
***
He sat in the darkest corner of her living room, watching her. Observing her brought healing to his war-ridden soul. He desired to reach out and enfold her in his arms, but he didn't. Instead, he sat; basking in the tranquility her presence gave him. This was the intimacy he had been searching for, and he relished the fact that she was his. Like a mammoth in heat, within him raged a pressing need to cover her with his body as he lay in her arms.
Her tears forced him to act. As the lightening flashed across the room, he saw her brushing tears away from her cheeks. He’d never seen her cry, and surprisingly, it pained him. What little emotional balance he had left disappeared; he wanted to comfort her.
"Did you enjoy your meal?"
"No.” She said.
"Why not?"
“Why weren't you there?" she asked.
"I had to de-brief."
"Oh. When did you land?"
"Four hours ago."
"Have you eaten?"
"No. I was waiting for you so we could eat together."
"I'm tired. I’ve had a long day."
"Why?" he asked, even though, he knew from CeCe, her live-in maid, that she’d been horrified at his occupation.
"Because I found out what you were. The newsflash this morning accidentally caught my attention, and I recognized you."
"How?"
"By your eyes," she almost screamed.
"Which means?"
"I've been walking around in a daze, asking myself how I could let myself play such a stupid game and get emotionally attach to a trained killer."
"You haven't been playing a game."
"What is it then, if not a game?"
"It's a courtship that’s about to end.”
Her heart began to beat swiftly; they were surrounded by darkness; she couldn’t see his face; she had no idea what he meant.
So, it's over, she thought and a sadness of great dimension overcame her and poked at her heart.
"Why is it about to end?" She asked, quietly.
"I need you."
"Oh, I see," she said, and joy banished away the sadness. "So, you want to sleep with me? Is that the reason you've followed me a whole year and showered me with gifts?"
"I do admit I want you in my bed on a permanent basis."
"And what if I don't want to sleep in your bed on a permanent basis? Would you force me?"
"No, I've never had to force anyone, and I won't have to force you either."
"At least you don't lack self-confidence," she said with a trace of sarcasm.
***
Shalom,
Pat Garcia