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March 12, 2009

Michele: If Only

“If I only had…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me.”

“That’s it. If I only had nothing. Nothing to go home to. Nothing to hold on to.”

“Then we could be something.”

“Yea. Instead of….this.” She nodded toward the motel. They sat in the car, motor running, The Best of Air Supply playing softly.

Jim took Lena’s face in his hands. “If I only had a chance to do this over again, I wouldn’t do this to you. You wouldn’t be wishing for nothing. We wouldn’t be here again.”

“It was my choice, too.”

“Is it still?”

“Take me home, please?”

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If I Only Had Checked to See What Book He Was Reading

He was here, in this chair. I trace the top of the plastic absently, breathing deeply the imagined, now gone, scent of him. His muscular body arched as he sat, completely absorbed in a thick, worn, novel. He never looked up. I silently gazed at him from a few tables over. His thick, black curls were the kind men have before they get it cut too short, falling close to his thick eyebrows. His dark eyes widened as his emotions changed with the story. They glistened with tears. He closed the book, and then he stood and left me forever.

Posted by: Anelisa at March 13, 2009 7:09 PM · Permalink