Rose Colored Linens At Her Lap

 

Sometimes she looks back and wonders whether she should have pushed him from her mind – as one would an unwelcome memory or an embrace on a day too hot for human contact. It was a foolish thought, she knew, for she could sooner rid herself of heartbeats or breath, sleep or sadness. He was all these things and none – he was the contradiction inside her self which moved her to wake each morning.

 

Each morning she woke with the faint feeling that today she would come to understand why. She would understand why, and then her heart would ease the ache, and she would take up the latent pieces of herself and be complete, like sunshine and raindrops.

 

She, however, would never understand why. And she never would push him from her mind. Even when the days were over and the light was tucked away into the night. Even when she lay underneath moss duvet covers each evening and felt as though a deep hole had been placed inside her, ridding her of the ability to take evenly-spaced breaths.

 

She would think of him, then, and his memory would clutch desperately at the edges of her heart.

 

*                      *                      *

 

The ship swayed and her food was the last to arrive. By the time it was there, she was no longer hungry. Vaguely she wondered why such things happened, unfolded her rose-colored napkin and pressed it over the moss-green pattern of the dress at her lap.

 

Absently she turned her head, drawn by an intangible breeze. She glanced outside the large-paned windows… and he was there. Alone on the ship’s deck. She sighed with a mixture of envy and awe. Almost two hundred people were there that night, and he somehow managed to be alone. The moonlight shone on him and he looked so real she suddenly felt like crying, or giving one of those soft laughs that whispers through your fingertips and down to your toes, leaving you momentarily breathless.

 

She thought, then, that if she were to walk outside, he would turn to her. She would slide open that glass door and he would turn. His eyes would be dark and deep, reflecting the numinous waters from which his eyes had so recently parted. He would look at her with his deep-sea eyes and smile wryly, as if she had told a joke that really wasn’t that funny. It would be the kind of joke that wrenches at your gut and leaves you wishing for something powerful, something more than just a smile could bring.

 

So he would smile that lilting, tilted smile, and yet she would be undeterred. She would be undeterred because she had already done the hardest part… turned from her food and looked out the window to see him cloaked in moonlight.

 

Her feet would involuntarily step towards him, but the moment would clutch at her and she would shiver. He would see that shiver, and without touching her he would bring her close to his body. No, he would not touch her. But he would look at her deep and he would move her. Then she would be near him, and no longer cold.

 

And suddenly she would be there next to him, on that slightly-swaying deck, close enough that they were touching without words and speaking without hands. And maybe someone would turn from their food and see them there, cloaked together in moonlight.

 

And for a moment it would be the two of them outside on the deck and the rest of the world inside with their rose-colored linens. And he would accept her.

 

They would stand there and the breeze would touch them and the waves would whisper against the sides of it all, and he would give his wry smile. It would be as if she had done something funny, but she had barely breathed– only held herself suspended within the moment. Yes, he would give his wry smile and lean into her, gently into her, and he would whisper…

 

But she never did go to him. She had never left the cushion of her seat. She had stared at her food. Indeed, she had seen him on that deck and she had shivered, but not from any breeze. Her eyes had closed, albeit briefly, but she had returned to herself and eaten her meal.

 

The food had never really appealed to her. After all, it had been the last to arrive, and he had been out there, cloaked in moonlight.

 

 

Reviews

[Mariah]

WOW. !
i saw the whole scene perfectly.
it's heart-breaking,
for me...,
it means that you feel like you had known someone so well, and you were POSTIVE they would see you and come towards you, and make things alrite; but he just stands there, not doing anything.
it's like you want to know what was inside his head, and I want to know what YOUR character was thinking. did he think of her. ? who knows.

but two things ;

ridding her of the ability take evenly-spaced breaths. ( is it supposed to say TO take evenly-spaced breaths. ?
&
rose=colored linens (rose-colored?)
otherwise, PERFECT. :)

everyone's comments are amazing.
craig is a sweetheart;
J.P.O.et, i agree, what can't you do. ?
and Eagle. ?
LMAO. SO TRUE.

[SweetPeachesAlways]

"giving one of those soft laughs that whispers through your fingertips and down to your toes, leaving you momentarily breathless" -
I love this line!

"leaves you wishing for something powerful, something more than just a smile could bring." Yes!

What an incredible piece of writing! How glad I am to have read this...Inside you, love, beats the heart of a true romantic...How utterly delicious and delightful you are...wow. You have amazed me once again...and left me speechless.

[Joseph - Michael]

It sure is very nice writing, yet it's all mixed of raw emotion, so it's well worth reading. Just one slight problem; On Most of the paragraphs, you wrote "She" That's a bit too much to use

Other than that, it's all still good though...

[None]

I enjoy your writing! Your story drew me in and let me see the emotional ties in your story and how, in time, he did not have the same feel. Great emotions and unique words here show your story as excellent!

[Forest Green]

Very interesting...I love the 'ship on the water, the moving deck, the occasional reminders of the moving waves'....this is so good. I am a sailor at heart though my feet seldom take me there.

Looking forward to more...

Daniel

[Dead Angel]

wow such an elegant and tender write. *sigh* such a man would never leave the mind of any woman, he would just sit in the back of her mind and haunt her memories like a ghost. very well written and greatly detailed, the imagery was so wonderful i could actually see everything play inside my head like a movie. this story is beautifully written and paints such a sad yet lovely story. well done! :)

[Robert Luna]

I thought you wrote this so wonderfully left me wanting more. I really love the way you write and capture such a raw energy among your words. You tell a tale so vividly that anyone that reads your words is able to see them and feel them other than just read them. They do not remain just laying upon a page they take a life of their own. It was a great pleasure to read your words.


Well Done!!!!!

[Erin Phoenix]

I really wanted her to go with him, and do those thoughts that sank into her head of him. I love this little story.
It is sweet and enjoyable, and in some way I wanted more, but thought it was perfect enough to leave the reader hovering over their keyboard....


:)

[J.P.O.et]

All right, what can't you do
I love the imagery here, the moonlight 'cloaking' the figure
behind the pane. And the windowpane is signifigant to me too
Like looking thru a pane at something that is not there, but also at oneself
'numinous' What a word, supernatural, I get it
And the ending brought back to stark reality
Well done
J.P.O.et

[Eagle Cruagh]

I got no further than the first three lines when
I decided to take this guy out and beat the hell out
of him.
Holy cow ! Give us a break from this super man type
who will forever be the subject of your loyal and
loving verse.
OK, you finally found my button, the real sensitive one
where you breath on it hell happens.
----- Eagle Cruagh