February, 16 - The clock

Write about anything you’d like. Somewhere in your post, include the sentence, “I heard the car door slam, and immediately looked at the clock.”


***

I wonder if anyone ever gave much thought to a simple idea of someone very important to you being in the same city with you. I bet for most of you it is a piece of your daily routine. "Why," you say. "we live in the same house and share a bed, why should it be something extraordinary?" Others will say that it is pure delight, and even if this is possible for only a short amount of time, it will never prove that long-distance relationships are doomed. And in this case all of you will be right.

But what if you could feel these two emotions at the same time? What if once you realise how truly weird this is - being in the same city with someone who means such a lot to you?

Although this idea was sounding in my head like leitmotif since the very morning the plane landed in this city, I still couldn't get used to it - and the moment I started realising it from time to time, very occasionally, while drinking coffee in one of the parks near the hotel, or walking in the streets in the evening, I couldn't help feeling dizzy. It seemed like the world suddenly broadened, as if they introduced one more dimension, and all the people, the buildings and streets, all the shining signboards - they all made their contribution to this, without even realising it.

I could endlessly walk around and breathe this unknown air if it wasn't for one thing - I came here with a definite purpose. Or I thought so in the morning, on that very day I decided to make it reality. After all, there wasn't much time left - even if they say a dream doesn't have an expiration date, and there's no ideal moment, sometimes you have to take a moment and make it ideal.

Oh, yes, you do, and you do exactly the same if you're some kind of a superhero who is bound to have a happy ending. Which I surely wasn't, I understood it the very second I got out of the taxi that brought me to a distant part of the city. With wet palms and trembling knees I started the last part of my journey, along a row of two-storeyed houses.

Luckily, there's only one I need.

***

I've never felt so much of a criminal, standing behind the corner of a small but neat mini-market and raising the collar of my coat, as if it could hide me in case of something unexpected. It's 8 PM, and I feel that I'm getting cold and that at the same time I could stand here forever. The absence of any action at this part of the street, and, which is more interesting to me, near that very house, seems strangely soothing. Somewhere deep in my heart I start feeling that it would probably be even better if nothing happened this evening, and...

I heard the car door slam, and immediately looked at the clock. A strange thing to do. People do strange things when their nerves let them down.

8.30 PM.

And there he was, checking his car for the locked windows or something else.
There he was, walking to the front door of his house.
As alive as anything else.


To be continued. 

P.S. I still suck at writing every single day, and the only thing that I keep justifying myself with is that quality should prevail over quantity no matter what. 
And one more - I really hope that someday all these pieces will turn into a kind of a proper literary work. 

February, 14 - Cupid's arrow

It’s Valentine’s Day, so write an ode to someone or something you love. Bonus points for poetry!

She tore off one more leaf of the calender and could hardly hold a sigh of disappointment.

This day couldn't help coming. St.Valentine's Day.

It meant several things at once.

Firstly, the newspread would be filled with posts of two kinds - Valentine cards and fresh jokes about the Mental Patient Day in Germany; secondly, the streets and shops would be full of people, men and boys mainly, breaking their heads, whether it should be flowers or chocolates, or flowers AND chocolates; the last but not the least, she should have come across the fact - she had no one to spend this day with.

I should really buy a cat, she thought.

There was one more variant, though.

***

- I've been waiting for you, - she said hoping her voice wasn't trembling too much.

- You look like you haven't.

Stern but seemingly not offended.

- I wonder if you ever looked at yourself into the mirror... not the way you do when you get up in the morning or stuff... but you don't realise what other people think when they see an appearance like yours.

- And what do they think? What do you think?

- I think ... I'd call it "out-of-this-world" type.

- Judging by the tone of your voice, I'm not really sure if it's good or bad, - he smirks.

- I don't know. At least, your future wife will have to put up with the fact she's not the cute one in your pair.

His self-satisfied smile suddenly blazed in the darkness brighter than several candles standing on the table, not to give some real light, but to maintain the atmosphere.

-  OK, enough about me. Let's talk about you. Why am I here?

- Frankly, I wanted to ask you the same question. Or ask myself.

This dialogue obviously wasn't heading anywhere. At this very moment she was closer to understanding why she was alone this day, closer than anytime before. But, as usual, she preferred to ignore it.

- I may blame alcohol for that, - she finally said, pounding every word more carefully than ever, - but I really wanted to say something to you.

- I...

- Don't. Just let me say. I'm not sure if I can say this any other time, so just don't interrupt.

He was surely more used to the idea of him being the one to talk. Obviously, being the one to listen wasn't that easy.

- This day is meant to say things to the one you love, right? But I guess I'm just not that case. And now you coming here, into my life... if I said I could easily ignore you, I would be lying. To myself, in the first place. The point is... you give me something. And I guess the most exact word is...

Inspiration.

- Right. If it wasn't for you, I would live my life like everyone else. Like a machine, you know... Getting up, getting things done, being happy. But it's not this simple. As long as I imagine you doing the same, basic things, on the other end of the world, but in your own way, so graceful, so elegant, so ... you, I ... somehow my own way of things seems sweeter to me.

Silence was the answer. All this time he was looking into some blank spot on the wall, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

- Why am I telling all this? I don't know. And I still doubt whether I should do so. But there's this one thing... there's probably only one person to fall in true love with. But there's hardly more than five people in this world who inspire you. Who add this strange sophistication to your routine. I'm glad you're here, in my life. And that without knowing that, you make me so happy at times. I'm done. Thank you.

***

She woke up from a strange dream. In fact, it was rather like an illusion. All the words still tasted strangely in her mouth. And even so, she would hardly change any single one if she had a chance.

February, 15th has just stepped into his rights. 

Somewhere in this world he has probably finished his business for today and was ready to welcome the end of the previous day. Oh, those weird time differences.

And right here, at this very moment, it meant everything in the world.

February, 11 - Whoa!

What’s the most surreal experience you’ve ever had?

(feat. Led Zeppelin - Stairway to heaven.mp3) 

A heavy wooden door closed with a silent bump.

The stranger raised his head and looked around before making a step into the mud. Obviously it had rained the night before, and that was the sole reason he had to stay night at this godforsaken place; but now the road lay in front of him again, and there was no time to waste.

Everything breathed with fog. It seemed like in all directions were only curtains of thick white clouds, and it made the whole picture look like a strange sort of heaven. The only thing to be seen was the peaks of grayish-brown oaks and maples, and their remaining leaves awaiting for the last breath of the autumn wind.

She - for it was a girl, despite the numerous layers of clothes leaving little chance of revealing her gender, - straightened up, set the bag with quite a few belongings right and started her way.

***

As time passed, the morning fog started to lift, and still everything around remained still and unclear. Although she was quite certain of her intention which was known to a rather narrow circle of people, every sound seemed to startle her. After looking at a number of acorns having fallen beside her, she smirked to herself and suddenly stopped again.

This sound had definitely nothing in common with leaves shaking in the wind or twigs broken by her own steps. Horses walking - and, judging by the rhythm, there were several of them. No matter what the exact number it was, or if the animals had people or any other living creatures on their backs or beside them, it could hardly bring any good, and she hurried to hide herself beside a mighty oak. The colour of her rags and the autumn leaves around would cover her perfectly, if the unknown visitors had no intention to search through the forest.

What she saw after that, would be none of her guesses, if she had any at all.

A number of people riding horses of all colours entered the path which she had only a couple of hours ago stepped on. It was hard to say what made them extraordinary in the first place - their thin clothes which seemed inappropriate at this season, or the fact that none of them shivered even for a second, or the serenity on their faces as they were ascending the uneven road. The first four horsemen looked as if they had already been to this place, but their looks were constantly moving from one tree to another. They were obviously ready to react in case something unexpected came in their solemn way. Despite this fact, they didn't make an impression of someone who was in a great hurry.

They were followed by a single horse carrying a lady on its back. Anyone who could see them would surely understand that the whole procession, no matter what their destination was, was for her own sake only. Her white gaze apparel barely touched the ground, and although her dress would make any girl die of envy, it wasn't the thing that attracted the most attention. It was rather the crown on her hair - quite a thin but clearly visible hoop of silver or some other unknown metal shining dimly, although hardly any rays broke through heavy autumn clouds. Her eyes were lowered to her own hands grasping the rein, and it seemed her thoughts were far away and higher than any of the trees in this forest.

Two more horsemen closed the file, their eyes locked on the lady and once in a while searching through the surroundings.

The whole sight, no matter how beautiful and mysterious it looked, beared a great air of solemness and, together with that, sorrow. At moments they seemed to be floating above the ground getting closer to the thoughts that probably troubled the lady in the middle so much. Now the stranger wasn't that much afraid; for even if she stepped out right in front of the procession, there was little chance they would notice her or anyone at all.

However mournful it appeared, it could hardly be an omen of bad luck after all.

After the last horsemen disappeared in the horizon, she stood up, threw off some leaves from her shoulders and continued the way.

There was yet much to walk and little time to waste.

***

She readjusted the headphones and walked out of the shop.

The evening sky was gradually being filled with stars - a clear sign of upcoming frosts.

It was already dark, and the silhouettes of high-rise buildings looked like some mysterious shapes against the dark blue background. The lantern hanging from the side of a shop signboard gave little light which threw weird shadows on the snowy path.

About five minutes to get home.

And even less to get back to reality.