Stories and Words

Short Story (1)

  Despite the pelting rain above our heads,  I followed him without feeling the chill of the world around me.
No jacket or cloak over my shoulders to stop the droplets of water from reaching my uncoated skin.
Yet, I followed him.
As I trudged on to catch up to him, I felt the tall grass crowd around my feet, trying to keep me from moving forward.
Yet, still I followed him.
Slowing down my pace, I place a hand on his wet arm, pulling him to a stop. The fabric of his sweater tickling my palm and fingers.
Now, I stand before him.
He makes no move to pass me, yet his stance is rigid and stiff.
Yet I searched his eyes.
I loosened the grip of my hand on his arm, then stared up into eyes which looked back at me. Streaks of droplets slowly glided down from a seemingly sorrowful face, not caring in what trails they left behind.
Yet I still searched his eyes.
I get no response after asking if he is alright, except for a quick shake of his head and wandering eyes.
I then allowed the air to carry a whispered name out of my mouth onto a cool breeze.
As if on instinct, I pulled this person into my arms. This... Stranger it seems...
Yet I somehow knew him.
He moves not for many seconds.
Then he shook, while the sounds of a slow sorrowful release of seemingly stressed emotions filled my ears.
Yet, I held him.
The warmth of a being I thought to feel cold, warmed me to the bone.
The heat from his unclothed neck radiating onto my skin. Perplexed one moment of how and why he did not pull away but instead welcomed my embrace with open arms, but blank the next as the thought faded away.
Yet, I still held him.
His arms tightened around me, as if I was a dear treasure to this person.
Something, or someone not to ever let go.
His shaking long forgotten, we just stood there in the dispersing rain.
Time also long forgotten.
Slowly I started to release my grip and pull away , telling him to continue onward.
Yet he didn't pull away.
Suddenly, I found myself lying in my bed , starring up at the ceiling.
I turn over to find a dim light slowly becoming brighter outside of my window, telling me that it was morning.
I looked back up at the ceiling and released a small sigh.
I stayed there, wondering if and why there were tears in your eyes, and why I felt the need to protect you from I have no idea what.
Yet I still just laid there, thinking about how and why you entered my life, and did absolutely nothing to get you out of my head.