Armandian Cheese
04-12-2006, 07:29
Hey, guys...I've taken my first stab at a romantic short story, so...tell me what you think. Criticism, both positive and negative, is welcome!
"She smiled at me, her eyes a sea of ink so pitch black I felt like I could drown in them. She always did have strangely large pupils…They were always wide open, eager to take in everything the world had to offer in one instance. Those black pearls unnerved me at first, to be honest. They were beautiful, to be sure---but it was an overwhelming sort of beauty, the kind that threatens to suck you in and never let you go. It was…" he trailed off, grasping at possible words, but failing to find any that satisfied him.
He was relieved of his anxiety by her perky interjection.
"Some story you've got there, Mister. Melodramatic, much?"
He grinned as the coffee mug scraped against his stubble.
"Heh. If there's any woman worthy of it, it's her."
"Really now?"
"Really."
"Tell me more, then. Go on." she replied with a jaunty smile spread across her lips.
"It was…actually kind of beautiful, and comforting, to get lost in someone like that. It gave you the feeling that no matter what, no matter how dark things got, you'd always have her to wrap yourself around in, to shelter you. Those eyes had more than that, though---she was sharp. No…"
"Hmmm?"
"Not sharp. She wasn't fast, wasn't quick. Smart as hell, yeah, but not in the Quiz show frenzy of instant answers. She actually…she actually thought, goddamit, while the rest of us just spat back what we'd been told, rapid fire. It was maddening, sometimes," he said, stabbing his fork absent mindedly at some scrambled egg, "to talk to her, because I'd throw everything but the kitchen sink in and then I'd wait, and she'd smile at me---oh, her smile, I'll tell you about that---and then I'd wait s'more, and then she'd smile at me, and then I'd wait, and then she'd…"
"I get it."
"No, you don't---I'm actually delaying for time so I can check out that hot waitress over there."
"You!" she snapped in disgust as she whirled around to glance at the object of the man's desire.
Much to her surprise, there wasn't anything more than a family of Latinos enjoying dinner. To her even greater surprise, she whirled back to see him chomping down on a piece of bacon that had previously made its home on her plate. An exasperated sigh left her chest, matched by an impish laugh from his.
"You know, you could've just asked…"
"I know. But it was more fun this way."
"That's it. I'm putting you On Notice."
He chortled a laugh, replying, "Oh, please. You wouldn't put me On Notice."
"If you don't get back to the story, you'll be Dead To Me."
"Heh. Alright. So…she'd smile, and I'd wait…"
"We've gone over this already."
"Okeh, okeh, I'm movin'!"
"You enjoy this, don't you?"
"Very much so."
She glared him down, to which he sheepishly threw his hands up, and continued.
"Then she finally spoke…and I'll be damned if it wasn't worth more than all the words I'd spat out the entire day put together. There was a stunning simplicity to it that left me speechless, a sort of gentle wisdom, I guess. It's…hard to describe, but she always managed to have the right thing to say at the right time. Or, rarely enough, exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time…but nonetheless, I admired her precision. Her timing…was almost divine."
"Now you're being melodramatic again," she said with a slight laugh.
"I guess I am…" the man replied, leaning back in his chair with his hands cradling the back of his neck. He lazily scratched the stubble on his chin, making a note to shave it….eventually…
...and saw her looking straight at him, eyes wide open.
"Can't we enjoy the silence for a moment?" he snapped.
"Okay."
"You want something from me."
"Yeah."
"So…?"
"But you wanted to enjoy the silence."
"I can't enjoy the friggin' silence with you pleading like that!"
"I'm not."
"I…"
He was suddenly anxious, gripping for his collar while always maintaining his red cap mask. Sweat dripped down his neck, and panic tightened around his throat. He looked up at her from underneath his hat, and somehow felt his strength bleed back into him. They rested in the silence for a second, a minute, an eon--- or something about that.
Slowly, they began to withdraw, sipping the juices of ground coffee beans.
"Alright. You wanted something?"
"Go on."
"The story?"
"The story."
"Okeh."
He paused, shaking off the last bits of warm silence, and continued.
"This is the part where it gets…less than happy."
"Less than happy?"
"Okeh, so it was bad. Happy now?"
"I thought you said it was less than happy. How can it be happy now?"
"…you learn fast."
"I do. You don't."
"Really now?"
"If you learned faster you would've learned that you need to get on with the story by now."
"Heh…I chased a lot of drama queens and divas in my time; she was always there, always waiting with those black pearl eyes of hers, but I couldn't see past my delusion. I didn't appreciate the beauty that lay right under my nose…and one day, it was gone."
"Just…gone?"
"We graduated from High School, never admitting the truth. But we both knew…I never took my chance, I never, I---" he started choking a bit, and angrily slammed down table.
Another silence gripped the table, but it was a far cry from the comfort of the last one. Instead, it was marked by the raw pain of wounds that had never quite healed.
"Hey."
"…."
"Hey."
"…"
"I said…"
"I hear you--"
"You promised me you'd tell me about her smile."
"But I…I…"
"Come on, tell me."
"I'm done."
"No. No you're not. You're never done, and never will be."
He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot under his cap. He began to speak, his voice shaking, but growing in confidence with every word.
"A-a-a-lright…her smile was…the broadest, toothiest grin you've ever seen---she got it from her mother. So…full of joy and compassion and brilliance and, and, and adventure.."
She looked on, her eyes enticing him to move forward..
"…it ended in points, actually, like that of a Jack O'Lantern,."
She laughed, spitting out her coffee.
"You're comparing the woman you loved…to a Jack O'Lantern?"
He shrugged, saying, "I always did like Jack O'Lanterns."
The girl shot him an incredulous look.
The man nonchalantly shot back a reply, stating, "What? They're natural, wholesome little things with just a hint of mischief carved into them. I like my good with a splash of irreverence…kind of how I'd really like some sugar in this coffee."
"Now you're making metaphors about coffee?"
"No, now I'm suggesting you get up and get me some sugar."
She shook her head with a mixture of annoyance and bemusement, and stood up to get the pink little packets of sweet every run down, second rate, roadside Diner was somehow obligated to have.
"And no, I did not imply anything there."
"I wasn't even think---"
"You know you were."
"I was not!"
"Riiiight."
"I WASN'T!"
"I know. I agreed with you. That is what the word 'right' means, y'know."
"But you meant---"
"No I didn't."
"You…"
"…motherfucking sonuvabitch asshole?"
"…I wasn't going to use those words…"
"You meant them."
"No I did---I am not doing this again!"
Her head shook once more in frustration, which he greeted with a brazen devil-may-care smile. As she turned around, he pulled up the red cap concealing his face to get a better look at her. A chuckle left his lips as she groped for the sweeteners; here she was, helping out without question a stranger who'd just mocked her. He quickly pulled the cap down as she returned, and began to speak.
"Thanks."
"For what? The sugar? No worries."
"No."
"For reminding me."
"What?"
"That the girl I was talking about still exists."
"Huh…?"
His fingers flicked his cap upwards, sending a blur of red up and the girl's jaw down.
"Hey, Liane."
"…h-hey…Armand…"
"I don't deserve you, Liane. Not after what I've done."
"Don't say that!"
"No. It's true. But that's the point. No matter how undeserving a wretch I was, you'd still be there. You'll hold out a helping hand when I'm pushing you aside, you'll offer a kind word when I'm raging at you and the world, and you'll even…" he said, as a weak grin sprang to his lips, "…grab me a packet of sugar when I'm making bad jokes."
Liane's skin was flush with red; she smiled broadly, and spoke.
"No worries."
"That's…that's your grace, Liane."
Grins crossed their faces, trapping time yet again for a few millennia, and then she let it go.
"So I look like a pumpkin, eh?"
"Yeah…Hah…"
She threw her head back and laughed a deep laugh full of pain and healing all at once. Armand looked back at her, drawing the courage for one last gambit.
"It's because of that forgiveness, that grace, that you're Christian, in the real sense of the word."
"The…real sense?"
"Christ-like."
"Armand…"
"But you're not divine; that's the beauty of it. You're not some amazing orator or singing sensation---you're just…Liane. And that's…that's okeh…and that's…"
He tried to grasp for time once more, to freeze it forever so that he never had to face such a moment of judgment---but the Divine didn't favor cowardice that day.
"That's why I love you, Liane."
"She smiled at me, her eyes a sea of ink so pitch black I felt like I could drown in them. She always did have strangely large pupils…They were always wide open, eager to take in everything the world had to offer in one instance. Those black pearls unnerved me at first, to be honest. They were beautiful, to be sure---but it was an overwhelming sort of beauty, the kind that threatens to suck you in and never let you go. It was…" he trailed off, grasping at possible words, but failing to find any that satisfied him.
He was relieved of his anxiety by her perky interjection.
"Some story you've got there, Mister. Melodramatic, much?"
He grinned as the coffee mug scraped against his stubble.
"Heh. If there's any woman worthy of it, it's her."
"Really now?"
"Really."
"Tell me more, then. Go on." she replied with a jaunty smile spread across her lips.
"It was…actually kind of beautiful, and comforting, to get lost in someone like that. It gave you the feeling that no matter what, no matter how dark things got, you'd always have her to wrap yourself around in, to shelter you. Those eyes had more than that, though---she was sharp. No…"
"Hmmm?"
"Not sharp. She wasn't fast, wasn't quick. Smart as hell, yeah, but not in the Quiz show frenzy of instant answers. She actually…she actually thought, goddamit, while the rest of us just spat back what we'd been told, rapid fire. It was maddening, sometimes," he said, stabbing his fork absent mindedly at some scrambled egg, "to talk to her, because I'd throw everything but the kitchen sink in and then I'd wait, and she'd smile at me---oh, her smile, I'll tell you about that---and then I'd wait s'more, and then she'd smile at me, and then I'd wait, and then she'd…"
"I get it."
"No, you don't---I'm actually delaying for time so I can check out that hot waitress over there."
"You!" she snapped in disgust as she whirled around to glance at the object of the man's desire.
Much to her surprise, there wasn't anything more than a family of Latinos enjoying dinner. To her even greater surprise, she whirled back to see him chomping down on a piece of bacon that had previously made its home on her plate. An exasperated sigh left her chest, matched by an impish laugh from his.
"You know, you could've just asked…"
"I know. But it was more fun this way."
"That's it. I'm putting you On Notice."
He chortled a laugh, replying, "Oh, please. You wouldn't put me On Notice."
"If you don't get back to the story, you'll be Dead To Me."
"Heh. Alright. So…she'd smile, and I'd wait…"
"We've gone over this already."
"Okeh, okeh, I'm movin'!"
"You enjoy this, don't you?"
"Very much so."
She glared him down, to which he sheepishly threw his hands up, and continued.
"Then she finally spoke…and I'll be damned if it wasn't worth more than all the words I'd spat out the entire day put together. There was a stunning simplicity to it that left me speechless, a sort of gentle wisdom, I guess. It's…hard to describe, but she always managed to have the right thing to say at the right time. Or, rarely enough, exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time…but nonetheless, I admired her precision. Her timing…was almost divine."
"Now you're being melodramatic again," she said with a slight laugh.
"I guess I am…" the man replied, leaning back in his chair with his hands cradling the back of his neck. He lazily scratched the stubble on his chin, making a note to shave it….eventually…
...and saw her looking straight at him, eyes wide open.
"Can't we enjoy the silence for a moment?" he snapped.
"Okay."
"You want something from me."
"Yeah."
"So…?"
"But you wanted to enjoy the silence."
"I can't enjoy the friggin' silence with you pleading like that!"
"I'm not."
"I…"
He was suddenly anxious, gripping for his collar while always maintaining his red cap mask. Sweat dripped down his neck, and panic tightened around his throat. He looked up at her from underneath his hat, and somehow felt his strength bleed back into him. They rested in the silence for a second, a minute, an eon--- or something about that.
Slowly, they began to withdraw, sipping the juices of ground coffee beans.
"Alright. You wanted something?"
"Go on."
"The story?"
"The story."
"Okeh."
He paused, shaking off the last bits of warm silence, and continued.
"This is the part where it gets…less than happy."
"Less than happy?"
"Okeh, so it was bad. Happy now?"
"I thought you said it was less than happy. How can it be happy now?"
"…you learn fast."
"I do. You don't."
"Really now?"
"If you learned faster you would've learned that you need to get on with the story by now."
"Heh…I chased a lot of drama queens and divas in my time; she was always there, always waiting with those black pearl eyes of hers, but I couldn't see past my delusion. I didn't appreciate the beauty that lay right under my nose…and one day, it was gone."
"Just…gone?"
"We graduated from High School, never admitting the truth. But we both knew…I never took my chance, I never, I---" he started choking a bit, and angrily slammed down table.
Another silence gripped the table, but it was a far cry from the comfort of the last one. Instead, it was marked by the raw pain of wounds that had never quite healed.
"Hey."
"…."
"Hey."
"…"
"I said…"
"I hear you--"
"You promised me you'd tell me about her smile."
"But I…I…"
"Come on, tell me."
"I'm done."
"No. No you're not. You're never done, and never will be."
He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot under his cap. He began to speak, his voice shaking, but growing in confidence with every word.
"A-a-a-lright…her smile was…the broadest, toothiest grin you've ever seen---she got it from her mother. So…full of joy and compassion and brilliance and, and, and adventure.."
She looked on, her eyes enticing him to move forward..
"…it ended in points, actually, like that of a Jack O'Lantern,."
She laughed, spitting out her coffee.
"You're comparing the woman you loved…to a Jack O'Lantern?"
He shrugged, saying, "I always did like Jack O'Lanterns."
The girl shot him an incredulous look.
The man nonchalantly shot back a reply, stating, "What? They're natural, wholesome little things with just a hint of mischief carved into them. I like my good with a splash of irreverence…kind of how I'd really like some sugar in this coffee."
"Now you're making metaphors about coffee?"
"No, now I'm suggesting you get up and get me some sugar."
She shook her head with a mixture of annoyance and bemusement, and stood up to get the pink little packets of sweet every run down, second rate, roadside Diner was somehow obligated to have.
"And no, I did not imply anything there."
"I wasn't even think---"
"You know you were."
"I was not!"
"Riiiight."
"I WASN'T!"
"I know. I agreed with you. That is what the word 'right' means, y'know."
"But you meant---"
"No I didn't."
"You…"
"…motherfucking sonuvabitch asshole?"
"…I wasn't going to use those words…"
"You meant them."
"No I did---I am not doing this again!"
Her head shook once more in frustration, which he greeted with a brazen devil-may-care smile. As she turned around, he pulled up the red cap concealing his face to get a better look at her. A chuckle left his lips as she groped for the sweeteners; here she was, helping out without question a stranger who'd just mocked her. He quickly pulled the cap down as she returned, and began to speak.
"Thanks."
"For what? The sugar? No worries."
"No."
"For reminding me."
"What?"
"That the girl I was talking about still exists."
"Huh…?"
His fingers flicked his cap upwards, sending a blur of red up and the girl's jaw down.
"Hey, Liane."
"…h-hey…Armand…"
"I don't deserve you, Liane. Not after what I've done."
"Don't say that!"
"No. It's true. But that's the point. No matter how undeserving a wretch I was, you'd still be there. You'll hold out a helping hand when I'm pushing you aside, you'll offer a kind word when I'm raging at you and the world, and you'll even…" he said, as a weak grin sprang to his lips, "…grab me a packet of sugar when I'm making bad jokes."
Liane's skin was flush with red; she smiled broadly, and spoke.
"No worries."
"That's…that's your grace, Liane."
Grins crossed their faces, trapping time yet again for a few millennia, and then she let it go.
"So I look like a pumpkin, eh?"
"Yeah…Hah…"
She threw her head back and laughed a deep laugh full of pain and healing all at once. Armand looked back at her, drawing the courage for one last gambit.
"It's because of that forgiveness, that grace, that you're Christian, in the real sense of the word."
"The…real sense?"
"Christ-like."
"Armand…"
"But you're not divine; that's the beauty of it. You're not some amazing orator or singing sensation---you're just…Liane. And that's…that's okeh…and that's…"
He tried to grasp for time once more, to freeze it forever so that he never had to face such a moment of judgment---but the Divine didn't favor cowardice that day.
"That's why I love you, Liane."