Nine Eleven (#Wattys2015)

Chapter 10

Doubt that the stars are fire,

Doubt that the sun does move,

Doubt truth to be a liar,

But never doubt I love.

Yours evermore,

most dear,

-Orlando

She reads on a piece of paper. The edges are ridged as if torn from a larger sheet. Edith sits alone in her car, the note fits tightly between her fingers. Her car keys dangle in her other hand. The note is folded in half; the verses are written on the inside, a sketch of a heart covers the outside in blue pen. A yellow tint of light streams into the car dimly lighting Edith's hair and white teeth evinced through her smile. She had found the note in her glove-box as she was putting her wallet away. Orlando must have left it there. The scent of his cologne lingers.

She thinks of how sweet he is to her; the image of his eyes burning into her soul, effortlessly, candidly. The thoughts of his touch grazing her makes slow soft circles on the back of her mind.

The crackle of her seat belt buckle sounds inside the car. Car lights ignite. And Edith becomes visible. The door is suddenly opened, it startles her.

"Edith!" the name resounds covered in Orlando's voice. His voice sounds strong, desperate, devoted.

"Oh my gosh, you scared the hell out of me!," Edith says. She laughs quietly. "Sorry," Orlando says through a smirk.

His dark blazer is covered in the night. His clothes, clean and straight, is also hidden-his face is thereby highlighted. Every sharp feature, every carved corner, and the solemn depth of his earnest eyes.

He assists her out of the car by the hand he extends. He pulls her out as she leaps boldly into his arms. In her left hand is a pale daisy he had subtly put in her palm when he helped her.

They kiss briskly yet aggressive. Then they both smile confidently.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

"You'll see," he replies smirking.

"How was your day?" she asks as they walk toward the center of the park.

"Good, same old-I missed you," he says facing the Brooklyn bridge, the open and empty park ahead of them, a meadow, grass, trees surrounding. The black water Hudson river, the brightness spread across its wavy back, glows brazen in the lovers eyes.

"Why did you have to be away so long? You were away forever," Edith comments coyly, like a child deprived.

"It wasn't for nothing my love, I promise," Orlando replies turning to glean his mysterious image into her eyes.

She laughs softly in response. They slowly reach an empty meadow circled by slow swerving trees.

They stop at the lip of the quiet meadow.

Orlando turns to face Edith whose left hand he holds, she takes off her shoes and leaves them unconcernedly coupled on the dry sidewalk. They start to walk to the middle of the meadow. The grass under their feet gently gives under their weight, bending willingly, cold and dew coated. They love the feeling.

They reach the center of the meadow. Darkness crowds behind the dim lights surrounding them, the trees, and sounds of the purple city.

Orlando brings Edith into his arms. They embrace quietly swaying slowly in the winds of their romance and the beauty of the night.