Short Stories II

Windowsill Sorrows

Perched on the windowsill of their apartment, the home co-inhabited by both him and her, she dangled her lean legs over the edge. With legs now coxed with evening rain, Anaise observed the bulbous splotches of water sitting contentedly on her limbs. The water, cool enough to give rise to goosebumps on her forearms, rose Anaise's awareness of the present moment. A clench of tension was absent from the space seated between her brows, leaving her alone to bask in soft waves of bliss. Peace, as it was in its purest form, was manifested from many different things. For Anaise, to lean her body closer to the edge, to give way for rain to soak through her flimsy old t-shirt, was an exploration of her own personal heaven.
    Tilting a pointed chin up towards the grey sky, and dropping her chest down to breath a rich inhalation, droplets of the sky's perspiration began to drip down into her hair. The droplets, running their course down loose tendrils of brown hair, gradually darkened the earthy brown to a more solid black. Anaise let her eyelids fall, allowed the wisps of her lashes to sit on her cheekbones, and fully immersed herself in this pungent fall of rain. The only thing that could make this sensation better, was if Harrison were here to feel it too.
    She imagined the touch of lanky fingers drifting along her waistline, the brisk gust of warm breath settled against her nape, the natural draw of her spine to his firm chest and the clasp of sturdy arms around her midsection ; it was a sensual experience that, when taken in slowly enough, could plant a seed bearing inexplicable volumes of safety and comfort. Anaise couldn't help but crave the tangibility of these memories. To seek greater immersion into these memories was an impossible request, as there is a reason the human mind is limited to how much we can reminisce in our past. To indulge too much into past experience, is to limit the indulgence of the present, and Anaise knew this fairly well. However... she could not help but lose herself in the spiral of pleasant memories. She was not ready to, nor willing too, retreat from this realm in her mind.
    The gentle pitter-patter of rain was what woke her from her thoughts, to where she shifted her vigilant stare over to the grey plywood window frame. An old memory,  one shared between both Anaise and Harrison, one brought on by the nostalgia of the rainstorm.
On a day similar to this, with the overcast thick with perspiration, and the skies struggling to emit anything but a simple grey, Anaise found herself pacing the lengths of a busy downtown road. Feet clothed in bulky rain boots and knee high socks, she padded through puddles with little awareness of them, preoccupied with the persistent commotion going on in her head that day. At the time, Harrison had been employed at a small corner store called, "Jambalaya, Baby!", that was known for its limited selection of boy's swimwear and surfboards. If you were a woman in the city, bored out of her wits, but captivated by the opportunities of the opened sea; don't go to Jambalaya's. They simply do not sell women's anything.
But knowing this fully well, Anaise still settled for the little cornerstore at the peak of the block. To Harrison, however, who stood apprehensively at the front of the store, this brunette girl couldn't have been coming in, simply, with men's swimwear in mind.
Droplets of sunlight filtered in through the window's blinds as Anaise bumped the door ajar, the rain seemingly ceasing upon her arrival.
That was how they met. That was what led to a seductive conversation taking place underneath silken sheets, one involving flared lips, flushed cheeks, bare breasts and one climactic ejaculation... It was an interaction of playful sexual expression that would cement the newfound relationship.
The experience was one that Anaise presently, with her spine curled instinctively over her stomach, craved more than she thought possible. All that she wanted, whilst enduring an unwavering desire for, was Harrison.
However, the abundance of his absence, like a double edged knife to the back, also gave space for Anaise to grow within herself. That was what she needed more than her partner.