JULY•NINETEEN NINETY-ONE
Viola's house was almost unrecognizable to Stella
as she stood before a place she once called home.
Her mind was summoned to the last time she
was here, back in nineteen eighty. One of the most adversarial years that burdened her life. The only mother figure she had died that year and the one person she thought would help her get through the grief abandoned her for some bitch he barely knew.
Stella could taste the vitriol brewing
on her tongue as twenty-two-year-old
Michael was visualized in her psyche.
At thirty-three, Michael looked astonishingly
different from when she last saw him.
The gingerbread complected skin Stella had kissed
all over was now white as milk. His once broad nose was slimmer with a pointed tip, and his once short hair of coils was long and wavier than she last remembered.
The only thing that remained unaltered was
Michael's eyes. Those eyes of his still held their innocence despite all of his wrongdoings.
Stella used to wonder how Michael could
carry such deceit in his eyes when they looked so
pure. She always told him, "Michael, your eyes
were carved by the divine; God took his time. "
Despite his altered appearance, Michael was still handsome to Stella.
A cloud shadowing the sun inclined Stella to look up
at the sky. It was now eight, and the sun was setting.
Nighttime was soon to come. Eyes drifting back
to Viola's house, Stella detected the differences she could spot. The once beige-painted house was now a light blue. Many outside renovations had been done. The windows were changed, the tattered screen door was replaced with something more modern, and the front porch was completely altered. A marble patio led to the porch, with a lovely seating area and a colorful cotton hammock hanging from the rail.
Whoever lived here now certainly put a lot
of money into the home's new appearance.
As Stella admired the house alterations,
someone was admiring her. It was Michael.
After Stella abruptly left, he searched the
entire park but could not find her.
Something in his heart told him not to worry; she wouldn't show up out of thin air just to up and leave without a trace again. So, instead of giving himself a heart attack from stress, he used his intellect to guide him to her and ended up at Viola's home.
"Looks different, doesn't it?" Michael asked, making himself known. Pivoting on her heels, Stella noticed Michael leaning against his black BMW. Hands deep inside his pockets nervously fiddling around with
some spare peppermint wrappers.
"How did you know I would be here?" Stella questioned with deep aggravation. Her regal expressions reminded Michael of a monarch,
making him feel like a mere peasant.
Michael was under her mercy, and they both knew it.
"Where else would you go?" Holding her stare, Michael propelled his back against his car door and strolled towards his cousin, who looked as if she wanted to push him in front of a moving truck.
Turning her back to him, Stella gazed
straight ahead and tried her best to ignore him,
but of course, Michael made it difficult to do. He
stood so close behind her that she could feel the tip
of his nose against the back of her head. Michael couldn't detect this, but Stella felt extremely nervous being physically close to him after so much time had come and gone like the seasons.
