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Her (A short story)

 
easzq8
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User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:03 PM

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Her (A short story)
It was his third time in as many nights, each dream the same
save for the duration, growing longer by the day. This woman captivated his heart these last three nights with mystery, intrigue, and the exotic scent of the unknown.
Waking up in a sweat was not a new experience, Josh had lived in the desert most of his life, but this dream in particular was an experience that he'd never known was possible, let alone multiple nights in a row, and the passion!
With a sigh of love lost, Josh threw off the covers that seemed so smothering in this desert summer heat and walked through his still darkened room towards the only light in his empty apartment that stayed on, the stove light. His mind was lost in the crystal clear images burned into his consciousness like the after taste of his new favorite meal. Meeting an attractive blonde woman in line at the coffee shop, striking up conversation awkwardly.. sharing a table and conversation, then walking to a park. That was where the first dream ended, with the next nights sequel being the same, with a kiss shared in childish flirtation on the park bench. He woke up that second night in awe at the pure attraction he felt towards this woman, and how it almost consumned him, just to touch her lips with his. Leaving that sentiment as a candle will be oushone by the sun was the intensity of the passion this nights dream had taken him down. Same scene playing the same way, only this time they shared a walk hand in hand, and Josh knew in his dream where they were going. His apartment. He had fit the key in the door, and felt a stab of terror and embarassment that the key would not turn the lock open which had promptly reminded
him he still had flesh to occupy in the world, and he woke up.
Now as he walked into the kitchen, still feeling that subtle emotion the dream had left with him, he barely noticed the clock, and wouldn't have if it hadn't said the same thing it did for the last three nights. 3:33 a.m. weird. Same time, same dream, three nights in a row. Josh was truly at a loss for what was happening to him. Pouring a glass of water, and drinking it down in one swig, he contemplated the reality of the situation. Why three nights in a row? Who was this woman? Was she real? Was this some sort of omen from Heaven that love was on it's way? Or was Hell tormenting him with hallucinations of something he deep down knew he didn't deserve? So many questions running through his mind Josh knew he may as well start his day, no more sleeping.
It was easy to lose himself in his thoughts while he maintained his daily rituals. Cigarette, coffee, breakfast, and a shower, Josh was ready for work by 5:00 a.m. leaving him three hours until he needed to leave his apartment to make it to work on time. Hopefully when he stopped at the coffee shop for his second cup on his way to work, she would be there. Her.
He would know her when he saw her, he knew, even though all he witnessed in his dreams was the blonde hair. The feeling though. He knew what she felt like when he looked at her, and Josh knew he'd be able to recognize that feeling anywhere.
He still did not have to leave for several hours though, so his undeniable anticipation would have to wait. Begrudgingly, he eyed the clock as an enemy in combat, and turned away towards the television, to watch some news and see if the threat of immediate doom and annihilation could distract him from such emotionally charged thoughts as he was experiencing. Switching the T.V. on caste the night fill room in a hue of changing colors, seeming ominous as the voice of the newscaster filled the silence hanging in the air. For a moment, just for a moment, Josh thought about the fear and anxiety the teleprompter was feeding it's disembodied voice called a news anchor was throwing at him with all the professionalism of a major league baseball player. Strangely, today like the last two there was no reaction as the dire circumstances were relayed to him through the subtle art of eyebrow raising and purposeful enunciation these mouthpieces were capable of. All Josh could think about was how sad it was that the news was so oriented in generating fear in it's audience, simply to satisfy share holders who created the news in the first place. Why doesn't a love story make the news, he thought to himself, watching the puppets on the screen. Why violence and hate? Is there no interest in Hope? It seemed so obvious to Josh, violence and hate were merely tools for profit, used by people who felt neither of them, but today he finally understood what the alternative was. Instead of horrors to make fear, there could be dreams to create love. Love was the answer. He wasn't sure how, but he knew his taste in doom had been altered forever. Why had he been so eager to die? Why had the threat of nuclear war or EMP wars been a satisfying end? Josh felt as if he was caught in another dream the way his thoughts were traveling. This seemed a new person living in his skin, and this person knew something Josh did not. Love. He'd had girlfriends before, even a wife once, but nothing compared to this woman who visited him the last three nights in a row. She was intoxicating. Even in a dream state he remembered feeling his heart race. Just to think about it now made him feel intense desire. Need was a better word. Need. He had to find her.
Switching the T.V. off, Josh turned the light on and reached for his art pad, it being in the same place from the last two nights endeavor to pass time before his obligations forced him out of his castle. He'd purchased the pad for the living room, should his random and chaotic bouts of inspiration catch him, he would be prepared, but for months it had been left untouched. Until two nights ago. Each night he could see her clearer, and Josh was now determined after this third night of meeting her that he would draw the beauty he felt emanating from her. Her.
His experience in portraits was beginner at best, but his desire made up the difference. More important than accuracy was the beauty that seemed to come alive inside his heart when he thought about her, and he felt a strong need to put that emotion onto the paper in front of him. She was coming alive under his subtle shading, and even though he was new to this art, he felt as if some artist he must have lived as in some distant lifetime was coming through him, moving his hand in a way he never knew he could. Such beauty, such inspired beauty that he forgot where he was as the lines and form filled out in front of his eyes. Every fiber of his being desired this woman, and not her body, but her soul. He felt her, and he knew she existed. How he knew, he had no idea, but he knew she did, and he also knew he had to help her find him by drawing her in all her beauty.
Lost in his re-creation, Josh glanced up at the clock only after he felt the drawing complete, and the clock said he was late. It was close to 9:00 a.m. when he finally broke out of his trance. His boss was not a forgiving man. Swearing every obscenity at his disposal, Josh hurriedly close his art book, though not without a last longing glance at the imperfect attempt to encapsulate the perfection he felt from her, then with a sigh, Josh ran out the door.
Only after a block down the street in his car did Josh realize he'd left the door unlocked, and almost turned around, but chose instead to increase the intensity of his tone of continual swearing that overpowered the music he was listening to.
The threat of losing his job, and subsequently his apartment and car and everything he built in his life was almost enough for him to just skip by the coffee shop this time, but the possibility of missing her was an instinct that turned the blinker for him, and he parked, almost against his will. In a run, Josh raced into the coffee shop, throwing the door open like a desperado in the wild west. Such must have been the look on his face, from the reaction of everyone in the store, and he noticed two or three of them turn away in what had to be fear, but then he looked at the line of waiting customers, and in the back of the line, was a woman standing silently, facing forward,with blonde hair. It was her, he knew it.
His heart began to pound in his chest hard enough he put a hand to his chest to see if a hole was forming. His legs were a thick gelatin that had no strength left. He screamed at his legs to move forward, and they did, hesitantly, like a baby taking its first steps. Josh had no idea what to do, what if he messed this up and said the wrong thing? What if he said to much right away and she looked at him like he was a delusional psychotic? What if- his thoughts were interrupted as he finally closed the distance between the door and the line and he stood behind her. He was lost, drowning in his insecurities and hesitation when she turned around and locked eyes with Josh. She looked at him, then just stared at him. Finally, after an akward silence and locked eyes, he felt compelled to ask.
"what is it?" he asked akwardly.
She took a moment to respond, as if trying to find the right
words. Finally, she replied.
"I had a dream about you."

Last Edited by easzq8 on 06/08/2012 03:14 PM
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:03 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
For you Miss rebel.

I love you.

I am you.

we are one soul perfecting.

hf
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 17456149
United States
06/08/2012 03:04 PM
Report Abusive Post
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Re: Her (A short story)
It was his third time in as many nights, each dream the same
save for the duration, growing longer by the day. This woman captivated his heart these last three nights with mystery, intrigue, and the exotic scent of the unknown.
Waking up in a sweat was not a new experience, Josh had lived in the desert most of his life, but this dream in particular was an experience that he'd never known was possible, let alone multiple nights in a row, and the passion!
With a sigh of love lost, Josh threw off the covers that seemed so smothering in this desert summer heat and walked through his still darkened room towards the only light in his empty apartment that stayed on, the stove light. His mind was lost in the crystal clear images burned into his consciousness like the after taste of his new favorite meal. Meeting an attractive blonde woman in line at the coffee shop, striking up conversation awkwardly.. sharing a table and conversation, then walking to a park. That was where the first dream ended, with the next nights sequel being the same, with a kiss shared in childish flirtation on the park bench. He woke up that second night in awe at the pure attraction he felt towards this woman, and how it almost consumned him, just to touch her lips with his. Leaving that sentiment as a candle will be oushone by the sun was the intensity of the passion this nights dream had taken him down. Same scene playing the same way, only this time they shared a walk hand in hand, and Josh knew in his dream where they were going. His apartment. He had fit the key in the door, and felt a stab of terror and embarassment that the key would not turn the lock open which had promptly reminded
him he still had flesh to occupy in the world, and he woke up.
Now as he walked into the kitchen, still feeling that subtle emotion the dream had left with him, he barely noticed the clock, and wouldn't have if it hadn't said the same thing it did for the last three nights. 3:33 a.m. weird. Same time, same dream, three nights in a row. Josh was truly at a loss for what was happening to him. Pouring a glass of water, and drinking it down in one swig, he contemplated the reality of the situation. Why three nights in a row? Who was this woman? Was she real? Was this some sort of omen from Heaven that love was on it's way? Or was Hell tormenting him with hallucinations of something he deep down knew he didn't deserve? So many questions running through his mind Josh knew he may as well start his day, no more sleeping.
It was easy to lose himself in his thoughts while he maintained his daily rituals. Cigarette, coffee, breakfast, and a shower, Josh was ready for work by 5:00 a.m. leaving him three hours until he needed to leave his apartment to make it to work on time. Hopefully when he stopped at the coffee shop for his second cup on his way to work, she would be there. Her.
He would know her when he saw her, he knew, even though all he witnessed in his dreams was the blonde hair. The feeling though. He knew what she felt like when he looked at her, and Josh knew he'd be able to recognize that feeling anywhere.
He still did not have to leave for several hours though, so his undeniable anticipation would have to wait. Begrudgingly, he eyed the clock as an enemy in combat, and turned away towards the television, to watch some news and see if the threat of immediate doom and annihilation could distract him from such emotionally charged thoughts as he was experiencing. Switching the T.V. on caste the night fill room in a hue of changing colors, seeming ominous as the voice of the newscaster filled the silence hanging in the air. For a moment, just for a moment, Josh thought about the fear and anxiety the teleprompter was feeding it's disembodied voice called a news anchor was throwing at him with all the professionalism of a major league baseball player. Strangely, today like the last two there was no reaction as the dire circumstances were relayed to him through the subtle art of eyebrow raising and purposeful enunciation these mouthpieces were capable of. All Josh could think about was how sad it was that the news was so oriented in generating fear in it's audience, simply to satisfy share holders who created the news in the first place. Why doesn't a love story make the news, he thought to himself, watching the puppets on the screen. Why violence and hate? Is there no interest in Hope? It seemed so obvious to Josh, violence and hate were merely tools for profit, used by people who felt neither of them, but today he finally understood what the alternative was. Instead of horrors to make fear, there could be dreams to create love. Love was the answer. He wasn't sure how, but he knew his taste in doom had been altered forever. Why had he been so eager to die? Why had the threat of nuclear war or EMP wars been a satisfying end? Josh felt as if he was caught in another dream the way his thoughts were traveling. This seemed a new person living in his skin, and this person knew something Josh did not. Love. He'd had girlfriends before, even a wife once, but nothing compared to this woman who visited him the last three nights in a row. She was intoxicating. Even in a dream state he remembered feeling his heart race. Just to think about it now made him feel intense desire. Need was a better word. Need. He had to find her.
Switching the T.V. off, Josh turned the light on and reached for his art pad, it being in the same place from the last two nights endeavor to pass time before his obligations forced him out of his castle. He'd purchased the pad for the living room, should his random and chaotic bouts of inspiration catch him, he would be prepared, but for months it had been left untouched. Until two nights ago. Each night he could see her clearer, and Josh was now determined after this third night of meeting her that he would draw the beauty he felt emanating from her. Her.
His experience in portraits was beginner at best, but his desire made up the difference. More important than accuracy was the beauty that seemed to come alive inside his heart when he thought about her, and he felt a strong need to put that emotion onto the paper in front of him. She was coming alive under his subtle shading, and even though he was new to this art, he felt as if some artist he must have lived as in some distant lifetime was coming through him, moving his hand in a way he never knew he could. Such beauty, such inspired beauty that he forgot where he was as the lines and form filled out in front of his eyes. Every fiber of his being desired this woman, and not her body, but her soul. He felt her, and he knew she existed. How he knew, he had no idea, but he knew she did, and he also knew he had to help her find him by drawing her in all her beauty.
Lost in his re-creation, Josh glanced up at the clock only after he felt the drawing complete, and the clock said he was late. It was close to 9:00 a.m. when he finally broke out of his trance. His boss was not a forgiving man. Swearing every obscenity at his disposal, Josh hurriedly close his art book, though not without a last longing glance at the imperfect attempt to encapsulate the perfection he felt from her, then with a sigh, Josh ran out the door.
Only after a block down the street in his car did Josh realize he'd left the door unlocked, and almost turned around, but chose instead to increase the intensity of his tone of continual swearing that overpowered the music he was listening to.
The threat of losing his job, and subsequently his apartment and car and everything he built in his life was almost enough for him to just skip by the coffee shop this time, but the possibility of missing her was an instinct that turned the blinker for him, and he parked, almost against his will. In a run, Josh raced into the coffee shop, throwing the door open like a desperado in the wild west. Such must have been the look on his face, from the reaction of everyone in the store, and he noticed two or three of them turn away in what had to be fear, but then he looked at the line of waiting customers, and in the back of the line, was a woman standing silently, facing forward,with blonde hair. It was her, he knew it.
His heart began to pound in his chest hard enough he put a hand to his chest to see if a hole was forming. His legs were a thick gelatin that had no strength left. He screamed at his legs to move forward, and they did, hesitantly, like a baby taking its first steps. Josh had no idea what to do, what if he messed this up and said the wrong thing? What if he said to much right away and she looked at him like he was a delusional psychotic? What if- his thoughts were interrupted as he finally closed the distance between the door and the line and he stood behind her. He was lost, drowning in his insecurities and hesitation when she turned around and locked eyes with Josh. She looked at him, then just stared at him. Finally, after an akward silence and locked eyes, he felt compelled to ask.
"what is it?" he asked akwardly.
She took a moment to respond, as if trying to find the right
words. Finally, she replied.
"I had a dream about you."
 Quoting: easzq8


Wall of text equals yawn
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:05 PM

Report Abusive Post
Report Copyright Violation
Re: Her (A short story)
It was his third time in as many nights, each dream the same
save for the duration, growing longer by the day. This woman captivated his heart these last three nights with mystery, intrigue, and the exotic scent of the unknown.
Waking up in a sweat was not a new experience, Josh had lived in the desert most of his life, but this dream in particular was an experience that he'd never known was possible, let alone multiple nights in a row, and the passion!
With a sigh of love lost, Josh threw off the covers that seemed so smothering in this desert summer heat and walked through his still darkened room towards the only light in his empty apartment that stayed on, the stove light. His mind was lost in the crystal clear images burned into his consciousness like the after taste of his new favorite meal. Meeting an attractive blonde woman in line at the coffee shop, striking up conversation awkwardly.. sharing a table and conversation, then walking to a park. That was where the first dream ended, with the next nights sequel being the same, with a kiss shared in childish flirtation on the park bench. He woke up that second night in awe at the pure attraction he felt towards this woman, and how it almost consumned him, just to touch her lips with his. Leaving that sentiment as a candle will be oushone by the sun was the intensity of the passion this nights dream had taken him down. Same scene playing the same way, only this time they shared a walk hand in hand, and Josh knew in his dream where they were going. His apartment. He had fit the key in the door, and felt a stab of terror and embarassment that the key would not turn the lock open which had promptly reminded
him he still had flesh to occupy in the world, and he woke up.
Now as he walked into the kitchen, still feeling that subtle emotion the dream had left with him, he barely noticed the clock, and wouldn't have if it hadn't said the same thing it did for the last three nights. 3:33 a.m. weird. Same time, same dream, three nights in a row. Josh was truly at a loss for what was happening to him. Pouring a glass of water, and drinking it down in one swig, he contemplated the reality of the situation. Why three nights in a row? Who was this woman? Was she real? Was this some sort of omen from Heaven that love was on it's way? Or was Hell tormenting him with hallucinations of something he deep down knew he didn't deserve? So many questions running through his mind Josh knew he may as well start his day, no more sleeping.
It was easy to lose himself in his thoughts while he maintained his daily rituals. Cigarette, coffee, breakfast, and a shower, Josh was ready for work by 5:00 a.m. leaving him three hours until he needed to leave his apartment to make it to work on time. Hopefully when he stopped at the coffee shop for his second cup on his way to work, she would be there. Her.
He would know her when he saw her, he knew, even though all he witnessed in his dreams was the blonde hair. The feeling though. He knew what she felt like when he looked at her, and Josh knew he'd be able to recognize that feeling anywhere.
He still did not have to leave for several hours though, so his undeniable anticipation would have to wait. Begrudgingly, he eyed the clock as an enemy in combat, and turned away towards the television, to watch some news and see if the threat of immediate doom and annihilation could distract him from such emotionally charged thoughts as he was experiencing. Switching the T.V. on caste the night fill room in a hue of changing colors, seeming ominous as the voice of the newscaster filled the silence hanging in the air. For a moment, just for a moment, Josh thought about the fear and anxiety the teleprompter was feeding it's disembodied voice called a news anchor was throwing at him with all the professionalism of a major league baseball player. Strangely, today like the last two there was no reaction as the dire circumstances were relayed to him through the subtle art of eyebrow raising and purposeful enunciation these mouthpieces were capable of. All Josh could think about was how sad it was that the news was so oriented in generating fear in it's audience, simply to satisfy share holders who created the news in the first place. Why doesn't a love story make the news, he thought to himself, watching the puppets on the screen. Why violence and hate? Is there no interest in Hope? It seemed so obvious to Josh, violence and hate were merely tools for profit, used by people who felt neither of them, but today he finally understood what the alternative was. Instead of horrors to make fear, there could be dreams to create love. Love was the answer. He wasn't sure how, but he knew his taste in doom had been altered forever. Why had he been so eager to die? Why had the threat of nuclear war or EMP wars been a satisfying end? Josh felt as if he was caught in another dream the way his thoughts were traveling. This seemed a new person living in his skin, and this person knew something Josh did not. Love. He'd had girlfriends before, even a wife once, but nothing compared to this woman who visited him the last three nights in a row. She was intoxicating. Even in a dream state he remembered feeling his heart race. Just to think about it now made him feel intense desire. Need was a better word. Need. He had to find her.
Switching the T.V. off, Josh turned the light on and reached for his art pad, it being in the same place from the last two nights endeavor to pass time before his obligations forced him out of his castle. He'd purchased the pad for the living room, should his random and chaotic bouts of inspiration catch him, he would be prepared, but for months it had been left untouched. Until two nights ago. Each night he could see her clearer, and Josh was now determined after this third night of meeting her that he would draw the beauty he felt emanating from her. Her.
His experience in portraits was beginner at best, but his desire made up the difference. More important than accuracy was the beauty that seemed to come alive inside his heart when he thought about her, and he felt a strong need to put that emotion onto the paper in front of him. She was coming alive under his subtle shading, and even though he was new to this art, he felt as if some artist he must have lived as in some distant lifetime was coming through him, moving his hand in a way he never knew he could. Such beauty, such inspired beauty that he forgot where he was as the lines and form filled out in front of his eyes. Every fiber of his being desired this woman, and not her body, but her soul. He felt her, and he knew she existed. How he knew, he had no idea, but he knew she did, and he also knew he had to help her find him by drawing her in all her beauty.
Lost in his re-creation, Josh glanced up at the clock only after he felt the drawing complete, and the clock said he was late. It was close to 9:00 a.m. when he finally broke out of his trance. His boss was not a forgiving man. Swearing every obscenity at his disposal, Josh hurriedly close his art book, though not without a last longing glance at the imperfect attempt to encapsulate the perfection he felt from her, then with a sigh, Josh ran out the door.
Only after a block down the street in his car did Josh realize he'd left the door unlocked, and almost turned around, but chose instead to increase the intensity of his tone of continual swearing that overpowered the music he was listening to.
The threat of losing his job, and subsequently his apartment and car and everything he built in his life was almost enough for him to just skip by the coffee shop this time, but the possibility of missing her was an instinct that turned the blinker for him, and he parked, almost against his will. In a run, Josh raced into the coffee shop, throwing the door open like a desperado in the wild west. Such must have been the look on his face, from the reaction of everyone in the store, and he noticed two or three of them turn away in what had to be fear, but then he looked at the line of waiting customers, and in the back of the line, was a woman standing silently, facing forward,with blonde hair. It was her, he knew it.
His heart began to pound in his chest hard enough he put a hand to his chest to see if a hole was forming. His legs were a thick gelatin that had no strength left. He screamed at his legs to move forward, and they did, hesitantly, like a baby taking its first steps. Josh had no idea what to do, what if he messed this up and said the wrong thing? What if he said to much right away and she looked at him like he was a delusional psychotic? What if- his thoughts were interrupted as he finally closed the distance between the door and the line and he stood behind her. He was lost, drowning in his insecurities and hesitation when she turned around and locked eyes with Josh. She looked at him, then just stared at him. Finally, after an akward silence and locked eyes, he felt compelled to ask.
"what is it?" he asked akwardly.
She took a moment to respond, as if trying to find the right
words. Finally, she replied.
"I had a dream about you."
 Quoting: easzq8


Wall of text equals yawn
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 17456149



its a short story.
you obviously dont read much before you post comments right?
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 17456149
United States
06/08/2012 03:07 PM
Report Abusive Post
Report Copyright Violation
Re: Her (A short story)
It was his third time in as many nights, each dream the same
save for the duration, growing longer by the day. This woman captivated his heart these last three nights with mystery, intrigue, and the exotic scent of the unknown.
Waking up in a sweat was not a new experience, Josh had lived in the desert most of his life, but this dream in particular was an experience that he'd never known was possible, let alone multiple nights in a row, and the passion!
With a sigh of love lost, Josh threw off the covers that seemed so smothering in this desert summer heat and walked through his still darkened room towards the only light in his empty apartment that stayed on, the stove light. His mind was lost in the crystal clear images burned into his consciousness like the after taste of his new favorite meal. Meeting an attractive blonde woman in line at the coffee shop, striking up conversation awkwardly.. sharing a table and conversation, then walking to a park. That was where the first dream ended, with the next nights sequel being the same, with a kiss shared in childish flirtation on the park bench. He woke up that second night in awe at the pure attraction he felt towards this woman, and how it almost consumned him, just to touch her lips with his. Leaving that sentiment as a candle will be oushone by the sun was the intensity of the passion this nights dream had taken him down. Same scene playing the same way, only this time they shared a walk hand in hand, and Josh knew in his dream where they were going. His apartment. He had fit the key in the door, and felt a stab of terror and embarassment that the key would not turn the lock open which had promptly reminded
him he still had flesh to occupy in the world, and he woke up.
Now as he walked into the kitchen, still feeling that subtle emotion the dream had left with him, he barely noticed the clock, and wouldn't have if it hadn't said the same thing it did for the last three nights. 3:33 a.m. weird. Same time, same dream, three nights in a row. Josh was truly at a loss for what was happening to him. Pouring a glass of water, and drinking it down in one swig, he contemplated the reality of the situation. Why three nights in a row? Who was this woman? Was she real? Was this some sort of omen from Heaven that love was on it's way? Or was Hell tormenting him with hallucinations of something he deep down knew he didn't deserve? So many questions running through his mind Josh knew he may as well start his day, no more sleeping.
It was easy to lose himself in his thoughts while he maintained his daily rituals. Cigarette, coffee, breakfast, and a shower, Josh was ready for work by 5:00 a.m. leaving him three hours until he needed to leave his apartment to make it to work on time. Hopefully when he stopped at the coffee shop for his second cup on his way to work, she would be there. Her.
He would know her when he saw her, he knew, even though all he witnessed in his dreams was the blonde hair. The feeling though. He knew what she felt like when he looked at her, and Josh knew he'd be able to recognize that feeling anywhere.
He still did not have to leave for several hours though, so his undeniable anticipation would have to wait. Begrudgingly, he eyed the clock as an enemy in combat, and turned away towards the television, to watch some news and see if the threat of immediate doom and annihilation could distract him from such emotionally charged thoughts as he was experiencing. Switching the T.V. on caste the night fill room in a hue of changing colors, seeming ominous as the voice of the newscaster filled the silence hanging in the air. For a moment, just for a moment, Josh thought about the fear and anxiety the teleprompter was feeding it's disembodied voice called a news anchor was throwing at him with all the professionalism of a major league baseball player. Strangely, today like the last two there was no reaction as the dire circumstances were relayed to him through the subtle art of eyebrow raising and purposeful enunciation these mouthpieces were capable of. All Josh could think about was how sad it was that the news was so oriented in generating fear in it's audience, simply to satisfy share holders who created the news in the first place. Why doesn't a love story make the news, he thought to himself, watching the puppets on the screen. Why violence and hate? Is there no interest in Hope? It seemed so obvious to Josh, violence and hate were merely tools for profit, used by people who felt neither of them, but today he finally understood what the alternative was. Instead of horrors to make fear, there could be dreams to create love. Love was the answer. He wasn't sure how, but he knew his taste in doom had been altered forever. Why had he been so eager to die? Why had the threat of nuclear war or EMP wars been a satisfying end? Josh felt as if he was caught in another dream the way his thoughts were traveling. This seemed a new person living in his skin, and this person knew something Josh did not. Love. He'd had girlfriends before, even a wife once, but nothing compared to this woman who visited him the last three nights in a row. She was intoxicating. Even in a dream state he remembered feeling his heart race. Just to think about it now made him feel intense desire. Need was a better word. Need. He had to find her.
Switching the T.V. off, Josh turned the light on and reached for his art pad, it being in the same place from the last two nights endeavor to pass time before his obligations forced him out of his castle. He'd purchased the pad for the living room, should his random and chaotic bouts of inspiration catch him, he would be prepared, but for months it had been left untouched. Until two nights ago. Each night he could see her clearer, and Josh was now determined after this third night of meeting her that he would draw the beauty he felt emanating from her. Her.
His experience in portraits was beginner at best, but his desire made up the difference. More important than accuracy was the beauty that seemed to come alive inside his heart when he thought about her, and he felt a strong need to put that emotion onto the paper in front of him. She was coming alive under his subtle shading, and even though he was new to this art, he felt as if some artist he must have lived as in some distant lifetime was coming through him, moving his hand in a way he never knew he could. Such beauty, such inspired beauty that he forgot where he was as the lines and form filled out in front of his eyes. Every fiber of his being desired this woman, and not her body, but her soul. He felt her, and he knew she existed. How he knew, he had no idea, but he knew she did, and he also knew he had to help her find him by drawing her in all her beauty.
Lost in his re-creation, Josh glanced up at the clock only after he felt the drawing complete, and the clock said he was late. It was close to 9:00 a.m. when he finally broke out of his trance. His boss was not a forgiving man. Swearing every obscenity at his disposal, Josh hurriedly close his art book, though not without a last longing glance at the imperfect attempt to encapsulate the perfection he felt from her, then with a sigh, Josh ran out the door.
Only after a block down the street in his car did Josh realize he'd left the door unlocked, and almost turned around, but chose instead to increase the intensity of his tone of continual swearing that overpowered the music he was listening to.
The threat of losing his job, and subsequently his apartment and car and everything he built in his life was almost enough for him to just skip by the coffee shop this time, but the possibility of missing her was an instinct that turned the blinker for him, and he parked, almost against his will. In a run, Josh raced into the coffee shop, throwing the door open like a desperado in the wild west. Such must have been the look on his face, from the reaction of everyone in the store, and he noticed two or three of them turn away in what had to be fear, but then he looked at the line of waiting customers, and in the back of the line, was a woman standing silently, facing forward,with blonde hair. It was her, he knew it.
His heart began to pound in his chest hard enough he put a hand to his chest to see if a hole was forming. His legs were a thick gelatin that had no strength left. He screamed at his legs to move forward, and they did, hesitantly, like a baby taking its first steps. Josh had no idea what to do, what if he messed this up and said the wrong thing? What if he said to much right away and she looked at him like he was a delusional psychotic? What if- his thoughts were interrupted as he finally closed the distance between the door and the line and he stood behind her. He was lost, drowning in his insecurities and hesitation when she turned around and locked eyes with Josh. She looked at him, then just stared at him. Finally, after an akward silence and locked eyes, he felt compelled to ask.
"what is it?" he asked akwardly.
She took a moment to respond, as if trying to find the right
words. Finally, she replied.
"I had a dream about you."
 Quoting: easzq8


Wall of text equals yawn
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 17456149



its a short story.
you obviously dont read much before you post comments right?
 Quoting: easzq8


It's an unreadable pile of shit. And from what I glanced at, not worth the time.
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 17538117
United Kingdom
06/08/2012 03:07 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
abduct
Anonymous Coward
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06/08/2012 03:08 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
Painful... absolutely painful.
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:08 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
It was his third time in as many nights, each dream the same
save for the duration, growing longer by the day. This woman captivated his heart these last three nights with mystery, intrigue, and the exotic scent of the unknown.
Waking up in a sweat was not a new experience, Josh had lived in the desert most of his life, but this dream in particular was an experience that he'd never known was possible, let alone multiple nights in a row, and the passion!
With a sigh of love lost, Josh threw off the covers that seemed so smothering in this desert summer heat and walked through his still darkened room towards the only light in his empty apartment that stayed on, the stove light. His mind was lost in the crystal clear images burned into his consciousness like the after taste of his new favorite meal. Meeting an attractive blonde woman in line at the coffee shop, striking up conversation awkwardly.. sharing a table and conversation, then walking to a park. That was where the first dream ended, with the next nights sequel being the same, with a kiss shared in childish flirtation on the park bench. He woke up that second night in awe at the pure attraction he felt towards this woman, and how it almost consumned him, just to touch her lips with his. Leaving that sentiment as a candle will be oushone by the sun was the intensity of the passion this nights dream had taken him down. Same scene playing the same way, only this time they shared a walk hand in hand, and Josh knew in his dream where they were going. His apartment. He had fit the key in the door, and felt a stab of terror and embarassment that the key would not turn the lock open which had promptly reminded
him he still had flesh to occupy in the world, and he woke up.
Now as he walked into the kitchen, still feeling that subtle emotion the dream had left with him, he barely noticed the clock, and wouldn't have if it hadn't said the same thing it did for the last three nights. 3:33 a.m. weird. Same time, same dream, three nights in a row. Josh was truly at a loss for what was happening to him. Pouring a glass of water, and drinking it down in one swig, he contemplated the reality of the situation. Why three nights in a row? Who was this woman? Was she real? Was this some sort of omen from Heaven that love was on it's way? Or was Hell tormenting him with hallucinations of something he deep down knew he didn't deserve? So many questions running through his mind Josh knew he may as well start his day, no more sleeping.
It was easy to lose himself in his thoughts while he maintained his daily rituals. Cigarette, coffee, breakfast, and a shower, Josh was ready for work by 5:00 a.m. leaving him three hours until he needed to leave his apartment to make it to work on time. Hopefully when he stopped at the coffee shop for his second cup on his way to work, she would be there. Her.
He would know her when he saw her, he knew, even though all he witnessed in his dreams was the blonde hair. The feeling though. He knew what she felt like when he looked at her, and Josh knew he'd be able to recognize that feeling anywhere.
He still did not have to leave for several hours though, so his undeniable anticipation would have to wait. Begrudgingly, he eyed the clock as an enemy in combat, and turned away towards the television, to watch some news and see if the threat of immediate doom and annihilation could distract him from such emotionally charged thoughts as he was experiencing. Switching the T.V. on caste the night fill room in a hue of changing colors, seeming ominous as the voice of the newscaster filled the silence hanging in the air. For a moment, just for a moment, Josh thought about the fear and anxiety the teleprompter was feeding it's disembodied voice called a news anchor was throwing at him with all the professionalism of a major league baseball player. Strangely, today like the last two there was no reaction as the dire circumstances were relayed to him through the subtle art of eyebrow raising and purposeful enunciation these mouthpieces were capable of. All Josh could think about was how sad it was that the news was so oriented in generating fear in it's audience, simply to satisfy share holders who created the news in the first place. Why doesn't a love story make the news, he thought to himself, watching the puppets on the screen. Why violence and hate? Is there no interest in Hope? It seemed so obvious to Josh, violence and hate were merely tools for profit, used by people who felt neither of them, but today he finally understood what the alternative was. Instead of horrors to make fear, there could be dreams to create love. Love was the answer. He wasn't sure how, but he knew his taste in doom had been altered forever. Why had he been so eager to die? Why had the threat of nuclear war or EMP wars been a satisfying end? Josh felt as if he was caught in another dream the way his thoughts were traveling. This seemed a new person living in his skin, and this person knew something Josh did not. Love. He'd had girlfriends before, even a wife once, but nothing compared to this woman who visited him the last three nights in a row. She was intoxicating. Even in a dream state he remembered feeling his heart race. Just to think about it now made him feel intense desire. Need was a better word. Need. He had to find her.
Switching the T.V. off, Josh turned the light on and reached for his art pad, it being in the same place from the last two nights endeavor to pass time before his obligations forced him out of his castle. He'd purchased the pad for the living room, should his random and chaotic bouts of inspiration catch him, he would be prepared, but for months it had been left untouched. Until two nights ago. Each night he could see her clearer, and Josh was now determined after this third night of meeting her that he would draw the beauty he felt emanating from her. Her.
His experience in portraits was beginner at best, but his desire made up the difference. More important than accuracy was the beauty that seemed to come alive inside his heart when he thought about her, and he felt a strong need to put that emotion onto the paper in front of him. She was coming alive under his subtle shading, and even though he was new to this art, he felt as if some artist he must have lived as in some distant lifetime was coming through him, moving his hand in a way he never knew he could. Such beauty, such inspired beauty that he forgot where he was as the lines and form filled out in front of his eyes. Every fiber of his being desired this woman, and not her body, but her soul. He felt her, and he knew she existed. How he knew, he had no idea, but he knew she did, and he also knew he had to help her find him by drawing her in all her beauty.
Lost in his re-creation, Josh glanced up at the clock only after he felt the drawing complete, and the clock said he was late. It was close to 9:00 a.m. when he finally broke out of his trance. His boss was not a forgiving man. Swearing every obscenity at his disposal, Josh hurriedly close his art book, though not without a last longing glance at the imperfect attempt to encapsulate the perfection he felt from her, then with a sigh, Josh ran out the door.
Only after a block down the street in his car did Josh realize he'd left the door unlocked, and almost turned around, but chose instead to increase the intensity of his tone of continual swearing that overpowered the music he was listening to.
The threat of losing his job, and subsequently his apartment and car and everything he built in his life was almost enough for him to just skip by the coffee shop this time, but the possibility of missing her was an instinct that turned the blinker for him, and he parked, almost against his will. In a run, Josh raced into the coffee shop, throwing the door open like a desperado in the wild west. Such must have been the look on his face, from the reaction of everyone in the store, and he noticed two or three of them turn away in what had to be fear, but then he looked at the line of waiting customers, and in the back of the line, was a woman standing silently, facing forward,with blonde hair. It was her, he knew it.
His heart began to pound in his chest hard enough he put a hand to his chest to see if a hole was forming. His legs were a thick gelatin that had no strength left. He screamed at his legs to move forward, and they did, hesitantly, like a baby taking its first steps. Josh had no idea what to do, what if he messed this up and said the wrong thing? What if he said to much right away and she looked at him like he was a delusional psychotic? What if- his thoughts were interrupted as he finally closed the distance between the door and the line and he stood behind her. He was lost, drowning in his insecurities and hesitation when she turned around and locked eyes with Josh. She looked at him, then just stared at him. Finally, after an akward silence and locked eyes, he felt compelled to ask.
"what is it?" he asked akwardly.
She took a moment to respond, as if trying to find the right
words. Finally, she replied.
"I had a dream about you."
 Quoting: easzq8


Wall of text equals yawn
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 17456149



its a short story.
you obviously dont read much before you post comments right?
 Quoting: easzq8


It's an unreadable pile of shit. And from what I glanced at, not worth the time.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 17456149


ok then, see your way out.

peace
Demonic

User ID: 12662903
06/08/2012 03:09 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
OP please put "A short story:" at the front of your thread title?
:sun:Ardhanarishvara | You died, and death was complete freedom from suffering - bliss. But it very quickly got lonely and repetitive in bliss, so you decided to be born once more. You've been doing this forever.

Whilst I may not agree with what you say, I will defend to the death my right to disagree with you.

Some say "think outside the box". I say "what fucking box?!" xx:taosmilie:
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:09 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
Painful... absolutely painful.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 13923893


out in full force today I see.

lol,

I love this game.

your pain tastes great, feed me more..

hf
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 17456149
United States
06/08/2012 03:10 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
Painful... absolutely painful.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 13923893


out in full force today I see.

lol,

I love this game.

your pain tastes great, feed me more..

hf
 Quoting: easzq8


Fuck off.
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:11 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
Painful... absolutely painful.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 13923893


out in full force today I see.

lol,

I love this game.

your pain tastes great, feed me more..

hf
 Quoting: easzq8


Fuck off.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 17456149


yummy, feed me more..
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 13923893
United States
06/08/2012 03:11 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
Painful... absolutely painful.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 13923893


out in full force today I see.

lol,

I love this game.

your pain tastes great, feed me more..

hf
 Quoting: easzq8


Fuck off.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 17456149


I agree.
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:11 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
OP please put "A short story:" at the front of your thread title?
 Quoting: Demonic


how do I do that?
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:11 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
Painful... absolutely painful.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 13923893


out in full force today I see.

lol,

I love this game.

your pain tastes great, feed me more..

hf
 Quoting: easzq8


Fuck off.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 17456149


I agree.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 13923893


double portions? My lucky day..
Demonic

User ID: 12662903
06/08/2012 03:11 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
OP please put "A short story:" at the front of your thread title?
 Quoting: Demonic


how do I do that?
 Quoting: easzq8


Go back to the initial post and click "edit my post", then you can edit the title too.

Also, are you seeking genuine feedback / constructive criticism?
:sun:Ardhanarishvara | You died, and death was complete freedom from suffering - bliss. But it very quickly got lonely and repetitive in bliss, so you decided to be born once more. You've been doing this forever.

Whilst I may not agree with what you say, I will defend to the death my right to disagree with you.

Some say "think outside the box". I say "what fucking box?!" xx:taosmilie:
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:13 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
OP please put "A short story:" at the front of your thread title?
 Quoting: Demonic


how do I do that?
 Quoting: easzq8


Go back to the initial post and click "edit my post", then you can edit the title too.

Also, are you seeking genuine feedback / constructive criticism?
 Quoting: Demonic


no, I typed this in notepad then copied and pasted. I wrote it for one person, and I made my point.

Read and enjoy amigo.

Peace.
pool
Ribbonmind

User ID: 16504517
United States
06/08/2012 03:13 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
Change the names to protect the innocent.
No yesterday, no tomorrow.
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 16221221
United States
06/08/2012 03:15 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
I loved it.
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:16 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
I loved it.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 16221221


thank you

*bows

hf
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 16430965
United States
06/08/2012 03:17 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
You make me wish I had blonde hair haha this was really beautifully written and engaging you should keep going...
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:18 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
You make me wish I had blonde hair haha this was really beautifully written and engaging you should keep going...
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 16430965


I fully plan on it.

hf
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 16221221
United States
06/08/2012 03:21 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
I was going to start writing a story for the first time tonight....Your story isn't that different from mine.
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:24 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
I was going to start writing a story for the first time tonight....Your story isn't that different from mine.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 16221221


so write it..

and congrats.

hf
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 16221221
United States
06/08/2012 03:26 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
I was going to start writing a story for the first time tonight....Your story isn't that different from mine.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 16221221


so write it..

and congrats.

hf
 Quoting: easzq8


I think i'll do that :)

by the way I absolutely adore your poetry!!
easzq8 (OP)

User ID: 398788
United States
06/08/2012 03:29 PM

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Re: Her (A short story)
I was going to start writing a story for the first time tonight....Your story isn't that different from mine.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 16221221


so write it..

and congrats.

hf
 Quoting: easzq8


I think i'll do that :)

by the way I absolutely adore your poetry!!
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 16221221


thank you, truly.

*bows

hf
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 11578975
United States
06/08/2012 04:25 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
hf

Yes.
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 17622438
United States
06/08/2012 07:48 PM
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Re: Her (A short story)
thanks for posting OP
the:1friend1:

User ID: 17645109
Lebanon
06/09/2012 08:49 AM

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Re: Her (A short story)
that was so contemporary and beautiful op.....you have a gift hf
.:MaKe:.:ArT.:.not:.:WaR:.
Nemesis-incognitO

User ID: 16781791
United Kingdom
06/09/2012 09:13 AM
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Re: Her (A short story)
OP please put "A short story:" at the front of your thread title?
 Quoting: Demonic


how do I do that?
 Quoting: easzq8


Go back to the initial post and click "edit my post", then you can edit the title too.

Also, are you seeking genuine feedback / constructive criticism?
 Quoting: Demonic


...this is cute!
There is Only One Truth
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 17646669
Portugal
06/09/2012 09:15 AM
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Re: Her (A short story)
new things everyday, sanity is great.peace