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I write as often as I can make myself. Hopefully, it will lead me somewhere someday.
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|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (13)
Ashley (Short Stories) - [180 words]
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The Christmas Present (Short Stories) - [926 words]
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The Old Woman, The Little Girl (Poetry) - [80 words]
The Sob Story (Short Stories) Alchohol does not equate responsibility. [1,116 words]
The Teen Girl Suicide Story (Short Stories) This is satire. Keep that in mind. [575 words]
Travels (Non-Fiction) - [257 words]
Zestfully Clean (Poetry) - [47 words]
"Do you think about me, Josh?"
"Oh, sure. I think about you all the time." I play coy. It's a force of habit.
"You know what I mean."
"I do, Samantha. I do think about you."
She sat quietly for a long time. "I think about you too, Josh."
As her roommate slept her fitful sleep Samantha and I sat together in her own bed, my arms crossed over her chest as she leaned into me in the darkness. I held her closer than I really had any right to, but at the moment such trivialities were beyond me. I didn't know it at the time, but while my heart pounded and my skin tingled and I hoped she wouldn't notice, there was blossoming the most powerful love I had ever felt in my life. It would hit me like a fucking truck, but would leave me far less capable of standing on my own two feet in the end.
"Are you okay?"
I was pulled from my musings by the quiet insistence of her voice. I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"Your heart is beating so hard."
She laughed. She sat up and turned to face me. Even in the dim light her eyes, two sapphires glittering and imploring, found mine. I put her face in my hands and she held them there. She brought her face mercilessly close to mine, and for one exhilarating second her lips lighted upon mine. My breath quickened and involuntarily I pushed forward. She pulled back, apologizing. “I would hate myself, you know.”
“I love Robbie.”
I rose from the bed then and stretched, feeling the euphoria leaving my body as quickly as it had come, leaving in its stead a throbbing sense of rejection. She looked up at me almost painfully, her head tilted slightly back. She asked me what I was doing.
“I should probably be going,” I said, and before I knew what had happened, our mouths and bodies were intertwined. My hands explored her body, and she arched her back at my touch. I lost myself for a time, and after a few moments I struggled to part my lips from hers.
“I should really go.”
I kissed her.
“Yeah, you should.”
She kissed me.
Finally, we broke apart. We lay there for the longest time, panting and delirious. When I had collected myself a bit, it was then that I could hear her quiet sobs coming from the other side of the bed. The high I had felt just moments before had ebbed, leaving me with a dull unexplainable pain.
“I’m so sorry, Samantha.”
She wiped her eyes, and put on a strong face. “No, it was my fault.”
I let her cry, and knew that things would never be easy for me again.
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© 2007 Riot
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