Kiss

They'd been friends for a while, but more by chance than by choice.  Her friends, his friends -- they all hung out together.  She noticed they had a similar sense of humour.  He noticed they had similar interests.  Sometimes they would talk - which was always nice - but usually they'd just steal glances at each other.  They always had fun together, but always in the safety of the group.

Every now and then, when she was alone, she would think about him.  She would wonder what it would be like to be alone with him.  Or... hug him.  Or... maybe kiss him.  Or... maybe kiss anyone the way she imagined a kiss should feel like.  She'd watched movies, read books and had a good imagination, but had never experienced anything thus far in her life that would make her think that the perfect imaginary kiss might actually exist in real life.

Eventually, summer vacation arrived and everyone went their separate ways to spend time with their families on holidays.  Some went far away, some went to exotic locations, some went on road trips and some stayed close to home.  It was weeks later, close to the end of summer, that everyone returned and she invited a few friends over.

He arrived first.  They were alone.  Suddenly they both realized how much they'd missed each other. She stepped toward him as he reached for her and they hugged.  The hug lasted a long time.  Even when she let go, they remained close.  She looked up into his eyes and she knew this was it.  Everything happened in slow-motion, just like in the movies.  He bent down slightly, she closed her eyes and their lips met.

It was perfect.

This was written for Mostly Fiction Monday. What's that, you ask? It's a little something Stranger and Me cooked up. You can find the story here. Today's post was inspired by the prompt Kiss.

Childhood

"Come on!  Come on!  Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Clara was excited about the day and couldn't understand why the rest of her family wasn't.  Or if they were, then they were excited in slow motion.  She'd been up since before dawn and the morning had been an excruciating exercise in patience as she waited for everyone else to get up, linger over breakfast and take their time getting ready for the day.  Now everyone was finally organized and they were able to set off on their little adventure.

The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.  Even though it was still early, Clara could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin as they stepped outside and got into the car.  They hadn't been in the car very long when Clara asked to roll down the windows.  The sun was shining right on her and her bare legs were sweaty and sticking to the vinyl seats.  Her dad didn't want the windows down while they were on the highway but he cracked open the little triangle window for ventilation and she did the next best thing:  she rolled down her window and inch, took the short edge of her towel and shoved it in the crack then tried to hold it in place with one hand while she rolled the window back up with the other hand.  It took about 10 minutes but she finally succeeded in blocking out the sun.  The bonus was that the beach towel was long enough for her to sit on the end of it.

Peeking behind her innovative sun-block, Clara could see that they were just passing the mall and the A&W drive-in on the edge of town.  A while later, they passed the signs to the little ferry, they passed through "In-and-Out" town (because you were out of it by the time you realized you were in it) and then drove along the shoreline.  Why was it always low-tide when they drove this way?  Clara hid her face in her towel, trying to filter out the stink of seaweed drying in the sun and whatever else it was that made that horrible smell.  Then they passed the place with the goats on the roof and Clara knew that in a minute they would turn and head inland, away from the smelly beach.  They were almost there!

"Can we get ice cream?!"  Apparently not at ten o'clock in the morning, even on a hot summery day.  But her parents promised they would stop later, on the way home.  Clara knew that they would, that she wasn't just being placated, because not even her parents had the power to pass by the ultimate gas station ice cream store where you could get the biggest scoop of ice cream ever for just 25 cents.  She, of course, would get licorice ice cream as she always did.  It was black and looked disgusting (or so she was told) but it was, to her, a scoop of heaven on a cone.

All of a sudden, the car stopped.  Lost in her ice cream daydream, she hadn't even noticed that they had reached their destination.  She jumped out of the car as quick as she could, after untangling herself from the towel.  Then she paused, took a deep breath, and looked up into the canopy of  giant, ancient, moss-covered douglas fir trees.  It made her dizzy to watch the trees sway that high up.  As she walked with her family into the grove, the air grew moist and sounds were dampened.  They tramped deeper into the woods along the trail and Clara knew that this was going to be a perfect day.

This was written for Mostly Fiction Monday. What's that, you ask? It's a little something Stranger and Me cooked up. You can find the story here. Today's post was inspired by the prompt Childhood.

Unresolved

Every year on this day she makes her pilgrimage.

She rises early, showers and puts on the same outfit: a red dress and heels.  It’s been so long that the shoes are scuffed and one of the heels is getting wobbly but they aren’t unwearable yet.  If the weather is cool, she'll bring a light cardigan.  You never know what the weather might be like in April, even from one hour to the next.

She gets in her car and drives across town.  It’s a different car now.  The car she had then was big and pretty.  The car she drives now is small and practical.  It’s harder to get out of the new car looking elegant, especially with heels on, since it’s so low to the ground.  But as long as she can be somewhat graceful about it, it’s not too bad.  At least she always wears panties, so she doesn't have to worry about unintentionally flashing her bits to unsuspecting passersby.

She arrives punctually and takes a minute to compose herself, checking her hair and her makeup in the rear-view mirror.  It’s not like it could have gotten messed up during the half-hour drive but she checks anyways.

She deftly gets out of the car and crosses the parking lot.  The sun is shining today and there’s a nice breeze.  If there was a patio, she’d probably sit outside but there isn’t one so she’ll be inside amongst the aromas and the not-quite-loud-enough music that ends up being nothing more than a tinny rattle piped through the speakers, providing a different ambience than intended.

As she approaches the door, she takes a deep breath and arranges what she hopes is a pleasant smile on her face.  She is greeted by a similar smile.

“Table for one?”

This was written for Mostly Fiction Monday. What's that, you ask? It's a little something Stranger and Me cooked up. You can find the story here. Today's post was inspired by the prompt Unresolved.