The rain and the early autumn winds danced chaotically to the music of the rustling leaves. Their beautiful and angry union concluded once each drop of water fell against the windows and the roof. Yet the wind went on with its silent dance, twisting past the branches and dying leaves of the oak trees.
The sky was raw with fury, clapping loudly as it watched down from the heavens and struck the earth with its electric monstrosity. Queen imagined hearing it laugh while she too watched on in fascination as the people on the street below scampered to find shelter.
Sighing, she leaned her back against the wall around her window and brought her knees closer to her naked chest. And though she clicked on Cry Baby once she saw it available on HBO, she neglected it out of pure distraction.
She loved rainy days, especially during the autumn. It was a routine of hers to curl up with her favorite book and cook her favorite soup as the sky above her lashed out in angst. However, since her trip to Vegas, she found herself preoccupied...and masturbating more than usual.
Finding ways to direct her mind in a more orderly manner was slowly becoming impossible. She was constantly thinking of a man, a man who had eyes that matched the stormy grey-black skies.
She was about to leave her seat upon her window sill when a man wearing flamboyantly colorful clothing appeared in the street . He was extremely beautiful with his well kept silvery blond hair and clear eyes. He looked up at her, smiled then nodded before walking away. Just as soon as he caught her attention, she forgot about him.
Her phone rang from somewhere in her apartment, but she paid it no mind. She just left her seat on her window and walked to her kitchen to fix a sandwich. She sighed once the ringing stopped, then proceeded to gather her needed ingredients. Even then she wouldn't give such a simple task attention, making what could've been a phenomenal pb&j somewhat bland.
How can one make pb&j bland?
As she sat to eat her snack, her phone rang once more. She cursed silently, rushing around her living room to find the cellular contraption before she literally stumbled upon it. She picked it up from the floor and upon seeing that it was Lashawna calling her, she declined the call and turned off the phone.
She knew she was wrong for moving out of her parents' place without telling Shawna why she did or where she was going, but she was tired of everyone minding her business, including her best friend.
When she returned from Genoa, Lashawna was too intrigued with her best friend's escapade with the handsome stranger, but Queen was sure Lashawna had no idea that they actually had sex since Leo was nowhere to be found and Queen had nothing much to say about Genoa, other than she had to prepare the house for her parents' visit.
Lashawna found her illusiveness annoying, and as tomorrows turned into yesterdays, Queen was seeing a side of her friend she had never known to have existed. The texts and voicemails she left on Queen's phone could make a serial murderer blush, and the apologies that followed were insincere and seemingly forced.
So besides the lost and confused feelings that replaced the pleasure she once had, she wasn't sure if she could call Lashawna a friend anymore. It sucked, to say the least.
She sighed, pushing her sandwich away, and frustratingly made her way back to the window.
Though the quiet storm had grown tumultuous, Park Slope was still active. Mothers huddled their children beneath their umbrellas and ushered them upon the B63 just as it pulled up at the bus stop. Teenagers made their way from 5th Ave to 7th Ave and 8th street to find the pizzeria. Whatever leaves that were on the tree outside of Queen's window was now relentlessly beaten off their skinny branches. Funny to think that this violent storm was clearing a path for a new life within New York City: winter.
