|TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE ... dynamic photo ~ ala ART&SOL|
T O Y S
By ~ Ryn Cricket
Halfway home from work, I looked at the clock in my car. It screamed “4:45!” I was never going to make it in time. Was he going to be pissed? Maybe he wouldn’t even wait. Fuck! I tried to get out of the office faster, but all these new employees decided that was the time to bombard me with questions.
“I really have to go!” I finally told them. “I have an important appointment.” To which they all apologized as I literally ran out the door. Of course I wasn’t going to tell them it was an appointment with “Jack.” But then I never divulged my social life outside at work. That only caused problems. You tell them one bad thing, and it’s the only thing people remember, and then dwell on. Anyway, Jack was different. He held on to his own mysteries and only divulged small pieces of them like little pieces of chocolate that I was always honored to receive.
He was a writer. So amazing with words. And even though I’m well-read, and well-educated, Jack would often use words I would have to look up when he wasn’t looking. He always picked the most precise words. I loved waking up to his little gift of words to start my morning, and talking to all hours of the night. Even on a work night, I didn’t want to stop or tell him I should sleep.
My job was so full of pressure, and asserting myself at home was just tiring. There was no reason to exude confidence, when I could just let the power be usurped. It felt good to not have all that responsibility and just relax into a complete lack of power struggle. I certainly couldn’t do that with someone I didn’t trust. But he loves me. He shows me all the time. I could feel a smile coming over my face just thinking about his words, telling me how beautiful and perfect I am, telling me how much he loved and desired me. Maybe he had told other women that in the past, but he told me I was the one who was everything he had been waiting for.
I am not going to make it! DAMN! I really will be the one he is waiting for if I don’t get home in time. I hate letting anyone down. And I will be so disappointed if he’s not there. Nights without him seem so dark and quiet. I wonder around looking for something to occupy me and sleep early waiting for the next day that he will enter.
He sent me all this obscure music that I fell in love with, I don’t know if because I felt it was such a beautiful gift or if it was because I actually really like it. I made a CD collection and put it on my iPod, just so that it would provide me the soundtrack of my days.
Finally! Pulled into the driveway, a little faster than anyone really should, left my bag –I’ll get it later. Ran in the house, went to the bathroom so I wouldn't have to pee when I was with him, checked my hair and face, ran a brush through my hair, put on some lipstick. Ok, just the way he likes me. Went back into the living room, opened my laptop.
“There you are, Alyssa!” he said.
“I know. I was late. Work was crazy!” I began to apologize.
“It’s alright. You’re here now.” He smiled.
“Yeah but I hate missing any minute with you!” I said. He smiled at me again.
Then he laughed. “We have our whole future together. What’s a few little minutes?”
“That’s true.” I smiled and laughed back.
“I know what you need, you understand my needs. We have quite a future, don’t we?” He said. “You’re blushing!” He caught me.
“When can we actually meet?” I asked him. “I want to feel you so bad!”
“Hold on a second, please…Ok, I’m back. A train ticket from me to you is just $69. I can be there anytime you purchase one. I see an interesting irony in that number.” He laughed.
As we continued talking, I secretly worked on booking the seat.
“You know, I could wait all day to talk to someone who is intelligent, beautiful and knows herself the way you do.” He said. I blushed again. I tried to look normal on the cam, so he couldn’t see what I was doing, or how happy I was about it.
“I think, my lovely dear, you have charmed me into loving you!” I blushed again. I had the two screens open at the same time. I even got out my credit card, without him seeing.
“It’s done. I bought it. You’ll be here Thursday at 8:30 pm. You’ll be here! WOW! In just a few days. That’s….78 hours, and 42 minutes! WOW! I’m so excited!”
“You never cease to surprise me!” He laughed again, at what I thought was my over zealousness, but really, it was because he had had this exact conversation. This was the eighth time he was able to convince someone to send for him this summer. Not only would he get laid, he’d win that $500 bet with Mark. Hell, maybe he’d even get to see that movie everyone’s been talking about.
(c) 2010 ~ Author Ryn Cricket
How 'bout that? When a writer meets a writer ~ comin' through the wry? Ryn Cricket can chirp wry and encompass 'why?' ... yet you'll never catch this writer'gal being high and dry. As the old tune warbles, "She's got highhhh hopes" < and she knows how to use 'em!
I've been glad to come across her gutsy writing style in the worlds she reaches and to feel a glimpse of that resilient spirit at each passing smile or smirk or "Atta Girl" that her words evoke. They go personal, they go passionate and perennially they hold her up and bolster past where any storm may enter.
You keep chirpin' Cricket.
We're listenin' ... Write ... write ... write.
|BIJOU BOUQUET ~ pic ala GeraldBrazell|
and our fine staff of renown
AT THE BIJOU,
sending best of good good good vibrations to conquer those damnation critters ~
"Lady be a Champ!"