Kelly's Smile

Kelly's Smile

A Story by Thomas Philmore Jackson
"

I saw her on a weekly basis. Coming in to drop off a project or review a proof. I wanted to like every male in the center, to talk to her, ask her out just once. This is it...

"

The minute’s pass like days; the world brushes past me wearily, like the people carrying themselves to their work... Clock in, check board, check for late print jobs, and place people into position: the pattern I followed daily, without interruption, with little motivation, no reason. There's this emptiness within me, but what seems to be missing is less than too much being. It is the power that forces me into this incessant repetition every day, the energy (or lack thereof) that won't allow me to break the cycle.

And I, as every day, stumble into work half drunk, or at least wishing I was, and am too tired to know the difference. Others in this enclosed realm of customer service seem happy to be here; they glow with the anticipation of dead larvae yet to come.

But then, there's one woman. I've seen her from time to time, I've smiled at her, I've passed her the proofs to her jobs, but only today have I noticed her. I guess she feels me staring; she looks up at me. She smiles, not the way other people smile; gentle, soft...real. A few strands of blonde hair hang in her face. There is nothing to obstruct my view of the eyes that so preciously adorn her flesh, but at the same time. Her eyes allow me to see so much more than I can comprehend in my current state of awe and infatuation.

My mind slips for a moment, leaving the realm of adoration that I've nestled myself in. Without any precautions (her beauty makes me feel - lets me know - they are unnecessary), I find myself carried away to an enchanted place in my head; my consciousness is gone and my desires have taken control.

I see her before me, her lips smiling like they did only seconds ago (the seconds that seem like forever). Her eyes are more visible now, and they are as soft and truthful as the aforementioned lips that I would so like to press my own to. She stares at me, almost as if to stare through me. Her smile doesn't fade, and her gaze beckons me to come nearer.

I stumble forward, lost in my thoughts of what was to come when I would be able to understand her beauty without sight. She holds a hand out to me; with little hesitation I take it in my own and we find ourselves dancing, waltzing on clouds and against the undertow of logic.
We stop.

I stare into her eyes, those mystifying eyes; I find myself being pulled into them, absorbed by the beauty that sings the poetry that defines her existence. I pull her close and I feel her breath caressing the flesh of my neck and lips. I smile at her smile, and I hold her against me, kissing her. My eyes are closed, unable to open amidst the passion she surrounds me with, but I still see her. Every colour, glance, smile, shape, all embedded within my very being.

Our world closes gently, wrapping around us like a blanket, until we find ourselves in bed, tangled in that blanket adorned with the clouds and tears of what it means to exist. I feel her breasts against mine; heaving with the breath that is the only thing proving that beauty this powerful can be real.

We kiss again, and I find myself crying, unaware of what else to do in the presence of such a goddess, such perfection...

And I fall, back into the truth, back into the world that is FedEx Kinko’s, where she, as beautiful as in my fantasies, continues to smile.

© 2009 Thomas Philmore Jackson


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I'm imagining a love-smitten Walter Mitty here. Truth is, I think a lot of us guys have had wonderful, romantic thoughts like this--I know I have. This is some excellent writing, Thomas, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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I found this sweet, and so charming.
You really like this girl, and it 100% shows =-)
This could be turned into a movie someday.
Thanks for sharing!

Posted 14 Years Ago



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Added on July 26, 2009

Author

Thomas Philmore Jackson
Thomas Philmore Jackson

Washington, DC



About
Currently writing new poems and editing stories. Lost my host for my story site, searching for a new one. Also working on my first book. "Exposed" will be filled with my poetry. Print date TBD. more..

Writing