Exquisite ~ Book One

Eight~

I sit in the car as we head out of Connecticut, heading for New York. The car ride was tiring and less indulging than I would have preferred. It wasn't as dreary as I may have had it sound, but Andrew made things interesting the moment I thought that things would have been drain worthy.

"Anna, have you ever thought of becoming a journalist?" He's said as we maneuvered through crowds of other rusty metal, some smooth and silky to the eye.

"Not that I've paid much attention to, no." He chuckles and shakes his head of light curls. I blush, unsure of what it was I'd said wrong. "It's not like I ever managed much of a career beyond traveling!" I say bitterly, a small laugh breaking the stern of my once serious face. He glances over at me and smiles gingerly.

"I don't know where you learned to be such a great writer, but there is always room for expansion. What do you think the first step to journalism is?" Though eyes on the road, it felt as if his heavy gazed eyes were lying directly on me.

I begin to stutter. "Education?" I ask vaguely. He doesn't say or do anything for a short period of time before his grin widens.

"Close, it's actually inspiration. You must be inspired by your inspiration to feel the need to fully expand on it. No?" I take in his knowledge and shrug slyly. "Another thing, in no numerical order, is developing new skills, such as: writing short stories, photography, editing, and social media. I couldn't explain to you every little thing that these individual activities will do for you, but for what I do know, is that all of these could suit you well enough to be done. You seem like a willing young lady..." He trails off shyly and I raise an eyebrow in curiousity. "Have you ever interacted with the media?" He finishes in a lowered voice.

"Like the press? I've seen them on the tele in Maine." He shakes his head, snorting over his own laughter as his dark eyes water and glisten in the sunny light before us. "What have I done now?" He only laughs harder.

"Next stop, an electronics store!" He retorts as we drive on.

Silently in the background music plays, the light of it almost as if it were a hummed tune.

"I guess peerreview is another thing. Before we get to publishing anything it is best for you to read it aloud to not only yourself, but someone else, and see if there is anything you can approve." He smiles, the someone else meaning to be him if I had one guess to be accurate on. "Have you writen anything?" He'd asked as I run a finger along the binding of my journal.

"Maybe..." I say with a smirk. He presses and soon enough, I open the bindings and begin reading.

"Nights pass onto days as days turn into nights, the sky a clock worn lightly amungst everyone's wrist. There is so much to see in such little time, it's so hard to simply grasp onto. The indifferece, the rights and the rules. The colours the people here wear and the ways they style themselves to deliever in. It's a mirage of pictures, a painting blurred and it's all wizzing past as Andrew and I journey fourth.

"It's as if I'm a seperate piece of the puzzle, one that is to concentrated on putting everything else together than to actually  make due on all that it is I could be left to become. i'm so willing for change though to change into all there is to become, in the end I would either be everyone or no one.

"The people, they're no different from me, not really. We all breath the same air, walk the same ground and drink the same water. There are points in places were some may live poorer than others, but who are we to say 'I'm great' if we're holding ourselves back to who we truly are, stuck in such a phase of the living standards of our own towns..."

My face errupts with such burning tension that I nervously slam the journal close and bind it again, the back of mine own hand pressed amongst the warmth of my cheek. Andrew glances over at me, quiet.

"Anna..." He says in a lower voice, my name trailing off his tongue as his gaze is focused on the road ahead. By the time we make a red light, we stop and he turns to me ever so slightly. "You're writing is not only brilliant but mesmerizing and you have such a burning passion within you that can not simply be extinguished. You write not from mind but from your heart, the things you may see fit to be written out. You write out what you see and hear; what you believe!" His smile was broad and teeth gleeming, I opened my mouth, but it closed right away.

I looked away and soon enough we were moving again.

-

"Anna, wake up." Andrew's breath blew into my hair as he whispered near my face, tapping me lightly on the shoulder. I refused to wake. "Anna, let me get you inside for the night." Andrew says eagerly, as if it was a promise he had vowed on, to get me inside shelter to sleep. "Hang in there," he says with a bouncing voice.

Next thing I knew, I was picked up in one swift motion, my head lolling onto his chest. He held me to him, protective of me in a gentle way. I smiled to myself, half-asleep as I was laid down and tucked in.

Goodnight Andrew...