For the Library

She was thinking about him again. “We used to have such fun.” She waited, but he did not appear. I’m going to be famous she told him once. She wondered where that had gone.

“People ain’t gonna remember your face,” the lady had said once when she had been there awhile. “Only how you make them feel.”

“Orange?” She wanted him to appear, running up the road with his arms full of oranges. He would come, a lopsy smile his apology.

“Opps.” He would say.

“Opps.” He said.

 

He slipped between the trees. Silently. Manoeuvring the ivory trunks.  Occasionally a slit of moonlight would present a blackened stump. He didn’t pause, but passed through the silver glare. The small tear of light lit his features; his dark hair, his composed face. His perfection. And the one thing it missed, the one thing that showed his flaws. No one could see.

So he slipped between the trees. Wondering. Manoeuvring the ivory trunks. Occasionally a gap would show in the trees, and the stars above would shine onto the ground. He would pass through it easily, cautiously though. Knowing that the awaiting darkness would hide him again. The dark would surround him once more, and confidence would return.

And he slipped between the trees. Waiting. Manoeuvring the ivory trunks.

 

What you do when life gives you lemons?

Wish they were oranges.

 

White on black tis nothing more

Opening pages is far from a door

Reaching through the very mind

Draining eyes of their nimble kind           

So on this note I leave you now, tis just words tis nothing more.

 

They walked. They talked. She smiled at him. He smiled off into the distance. She wondered. He tried to look oblivious. They both separated.

 

Taking my eyes of the material pain I forgot the shirt in an instance, my mind seemingly turned to other matters. A large rock lay in my way up ahead, I could see it, if I strained my eyes and imagined it shaped contours. I would have to find a way past it. Maybe I could go around it, maybe, only time would tell.

Thoughts flashed through my mind quickly; memories, reasons, excuses, the past present and future. All thoughts that could be had were at some point contained in me. I dismissed each quickly, dwelling only on those that mattered, forgetting those that were not wanted. My mind worked that way, not straying on one matter too much. Sometimes, if I thought real hard, I could continue to pass the same thought through my head, keeping with its importance. When this happened, another thought would slither into it, just a taste of what it is, and then, if I prevailed, it would encompass all my mind, smothering the other thought. These thought of my thoughts went through my head in a flick; there, now gone.

Attention of mine turned to the necessary task, the growing rock transforming into a boulder. I stopped at its ridge, feeling the bumps of its coverage. Peering round I saw the ground drop dramatically, coming to a rigid halt in a swashing river below. Far off the cliff rounded to join the other side, and then, looking the other way, it stretched into an endless path. Some way, some how, I had to get across this gaping hole.

 

I spy with my little eye something beginning with H.

Hawk

Herb

Hut

Ham

Hotel

Hair

Hen

Hamburger

Hand

Horse

Hippo

House

Helicopter

Hat

Handle

Hook

Hole

Hope.

 

This might be the time, for the narrator to make their appearance. This is where they come dashing in, slipping out a laughable comment, and telling the character to do something, to which they do not obey. A character must never obey their creator. Except when they’re more than characters.

 

“Orange?” She turned and expected him to be there. For a moment he had, for a moment he had returned. She sighed, thinking back to her times with him.

“Opps.”

She turned quick enough to catch him, and once he was locked in her gaze he was there, every stich in place.

“Orange!”

“It’s been awhile.”

“Yes it has, too long. I wish you hadn’t gone.”

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

She was just happy to have him returned, to see him again in his true form. “How long will you stay?”

“As long as you want me to.”

They found a bench, sat close together.

“People don’t believe I’m a princess.”

“Why not?”

“I guess because I don’t have a crown. I don’t have a castle, I don’t have money.”

“Maybe you’re not a princess then.”

“You’ve always known I was a princess Orange.”

“Have I?”

Author's Note

Perhaps here I might add a note about the chapter titles. They don't really hold much significance, well they need not to you at least, but I know what they mean. So just don't think too much about them, because nothing in this chapter has to do with libraries.