Exposure & Shutter Speeds

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We where in his car, driving down the highway, I laughed at something he said, and he beamed at me, trying to keep his eyes on the road - but he was failing.

I looked over at him. I'm so in love with this guy, I thought to myself, reaching for his hand resting on the gear stick. Life couldn't be more perfect.

All of sudden he slammed on the brakes, and I was jolted forwards.

My eyes flew open, and I was in my bed, alone, staring at the ceiling. The dreams with him in them, the dreams that where happy memories, I think are worse than those... other ones I encounter from that night. Just for a minute, I think life is simple, easy - happy. The only emotional scars are left from my parents bitter divorce, and they where fading rapidly, thanks to him. Until he left as well.

I grew up believing love was only found in fiction. It could never end well. Why give someone that much of yourself? Why give them the exact recipe for your emotional demise? Watching with maturing eyes as my parents happily ever after crumbled bit by bit didn't ever give me any hope. Staying single seemed to be the way. Focus on yourself, and getting ahead - if you're in control, you're the only one to depend on, therefore it's only yourself that can let you down.

But he worked his way into my heart, and I thought I had found someone to trust. Someone that fit the empty spaces that I couldn't fill myself. But then he blew that all to hell quicker than you could say "they lived happily ever after." There's no such thing as fairy tales. Sure, the monsters are still alive and thriving, but the happy endings are just a load of crap, told to placate children and give everyone hope.

I blinked, and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, peeling back the blankets. Looking at the time, I realised I didn't have to be at work for another few hours.

I grabbed my leggings, and chucked them on under my shirt, and quietly walked out to the kitchen, as to not wake my sister, who had gotten in later than I had last night due to her night lecture.

Addie was studying to be a journalist, with a focus on photojournalism. It seemed the passion for photography ran thick in our DNA. She had the passion for telling the stories of the unheard, and wished to pursue them overseas. Until then she would wander up and down the streets, capturing the stories she could find there, immortalising them in a split second snapshot.

I grabbed my coffee grinder, and filled it with enough beans for two coffees. The minute Addie smelled the brewing coffee, I knew she would be drifting out. I sat down on the bar stool, looking over the counter and staring blankly at the black, shiny tiles behind the gas cooktop. I counted the tiles in their rows, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Counting to 5's helped calm my mind - nervous tic, or coping mechanism, I wasn't sure. But it seemed to help grouping and counting random objects into 5's. I often found myself doing this unconsciously while driving or daydreaming.

Absentmindedly turning the handle, hearing the crunching of the beans going through the grinder, and smelling the strong, bitter scent that wafted up. I thought back to yesterday, my mind lingering on the man from yesterday. He'd shown up twice in one day, twice in the space of 4 hours. And those flashbacks, obviously I hadn't buried them well enough, seeing how quickly they'd risen to the surface.

A loud banging came from behind my door, and I nearly fell off my chair. Everyone who comes here just barges in unannounced, but never this early, and has a key. Coffee beans spilled out the top of the grinder, and jumped across the tiles, spinning as they came to a stop. I stared back at the door, puzzled. Who would be here this early?!

I put the grinder down, and walked over to the door. Just as I reached for the lock, the knocking started again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Damn impatient! Hold your horses!"

The smell hit me first. Florals - and fresh greenery. I breathed deep and opened my eyes, wide. There was one very tall gentleman, with one very large bunch of flowers.

Puzzled, I looked for a face behind the arrangement.

The bringer of flowers cleared his throat. "I wanted to apologise for everything yesterday." He sounded familiar. I looked down and the ground and recognised the shoes that had intruded previously. Those shoes are going to haunt me, I thought to myself.

"Pardon?" The man said. I blushed, feeling it spread across my cheeks. Obviously that hadn't been just a thought, I had said it out loud. "H - harry?" I stammered, in a state of shock. I barely knew this man and he had appeared 3 times in less than 12 hours now!

"Henry!" He said, peering out from behind the flowers. "Care to let me in so I can put these down? They may look pretty, but it disguises how bloody heavy they are!"

I blinked a few times. "Oh - Oh, yes, sorry. Henry! You'd think I would have remembered seeing as I've seen you more than my sister in the last 12 hours."

I opened the door wider, and yelled over my shoulder "Addie! Coffee is nearly ready!" Hoping she heard me, and didn't have earphones in whilst she was sleeping. Living with your sister had its perks. Like having someone with you when strange men brought you flowers at the crack of dawn.

Henry struggled through the door, and looked around for a place to put the small garden in his arms.

"Just, uh, dump it on the coffee table for now," I told him, turning back to the coffee grinder.

I heard Addie's door open, and she thudded down the hallway. "Bee, did you really have to ye-" she stopped mid sentence, and stared at me with wide eyes.

"Who's this? Why are there flowers? Why is he here?!" She fired questions at me in quick succession.

I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could Henry started speaking.

"Morning! I'm Henry, and I've had a bad habit of meeting your charming sister in some unfortunate ways. I'm afraid I left a bad impression on her, and came to make it up," he said, waving his arm in the general direction of the flowers. He stretched his arm out towards Addie "Nice to meet you..."

"Addison." She said shortly, giving him a deadpan look and shaking his hand, dropping it almost as quickly as she took it.

Addie looked at me, "You said something about coffee? I hope you're not lying." She glared at me.

"Yes, Addie, there is coffee, you zombie. I just need to finish grinding it."

Addie and I looked at each other. Then we looked at Henry. We then turned back to each other, and she gave me a pointed look, which I'm pretty sure said "DON'T ASK HIM IF HE WANTS ONE. SCREW YOUR HOSPITALITY."

I turned away, ignoring her. "Did you, um, want a cup?" I asked Henry.

"I'd love one!" He replied.

I scooped some more beans into the top of the hand grinder, and started walking back to the counter. As I did, I slipped on the stray coffee beans and went down. Hard.