JULY•NINETEEN NINETY-ONE
Michael wondered if he released Stella from his confining grasp, would he unexpectedly be brought back to the reality of her disappearance? Was this real? Was she even really here? Or was this just another one of his lucid dreams that manifested itself from reoccurring thoughts of Stella? "Are you really here?" Michael whispered in her hair, tickling at the tip of his nose as a tender breeze passed them. The blue magic Indian Hemp hair grease that moistured Stella's scalp was savored in Michael's nostril as he breathed in deeply. His pools of dark Hershey irises rolled so far to the back of his head that only the white of his sclera could be discerned.
"Yes, Michael." She smiled, propelling her head
back to get a good look at him. "I'm here."
"How did you even recognize who I was?" He questioned, arms still wrapped around her frame.
"My appearance has drastically changed since
the last time you saw me, Stella." Michael's skin condition didn't show much of itself back in the
late seventies and early eighties, with maybe a few discolored spots on areas, hardly noticed, like his hands or the top of his foot. That all changed when Michael turned twenty-five, however.
One day, he saw a pale circle the size of a grapefruit
on his lower back that gradually grew bigger until the entirety of his once brown back was utterly washed out. The mental anguish Michael experienced during those years of his skin transitioning from brown to white right before his eyes were fire and brimstone.
Michael's nose also changed due to a surgery he needed after a bad car crash he suffered back in nineteen eighty-seven. It took Michael a long time to accept his nose as it looked, from his perspective,"too European" for his liking. He considered getting a second opinion but decided not to risk the chance of another surgeon further altering his nose.
"I know my Michael," Stella sweetly remarked.
Her eyes held a mischievous glint that made Michael wonder what was going through her mind.
A faint chuckle erupted from his pharynx. "Why are you looking at me like that?" He questioned. In a trice, she kissed him on the lips, not giving him enough time to reciprocate the intimate gesture.
"I don't remember us greeting each other with hugs
as much as I remember us greeting with kisses."
Michael couldn't find the words to say, but
he knew right then and there that Stella was still
the same as he remembered. Mischievous and risk-taking, outgoing and free-spirited. Beautiful. That one kiss Stella charmed him with was enough to revitalize the feelings he had buried deep in his heart for over a decade. Inclining his head, Michael tried to kiss her but was denied the opportunity when she unwrapped his arms from around her waist. "I need to go and bond with the family, Michael." Turning her back to him, Stella tried to walk away but stopped in her tracks when Michael grabbed her hand.
She looked over her shoulder,
"Yes, Michael?" She felt the pad of his thumb rub over her palmar in a soothing circle.
"Where are you staying?" He asked.
"Well, I was going to stay at a hotel, but a member
of our family told me to stay with them."
Michael took a step forward. "You're staying with
me. I have more than enough space to share."
"I'll think about it." Stella tried to walk away, but Michael wouldn't let her hand go.
