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A Sweet Divide
Suddenly the barn door bolted open and out it spat a whole slew of people; workers and families who were near to retire for the evening. I knew the hour was waning deeper into the night and many would be leaving soon. Annabelle spun to observe them and she returned; her expression so matching mine that our time together was soon to end.
Annabelle and I talked further; of the things we loved and endeared ourselves to; the joys to our lives and what we wanted most from them. We shared a laugh or two, and some thoughtful stares that bounced from me to her and back again like a happy, bouncing ball. I grew to know her more, and she of me. We drew upon our experiences and we shared these like a good meal between us. I watched her every move when she spoke with the sprite, gleeful way in her manners. This time with her, swept me into oblivion and it made the Randola seem like a long-lost memory. Or something so far into the future, it could never be quite clearly seen or have a single worry to ponder on.
Our world together there was so enclosed and so individual to us. We chatted long between laughter and quiet conversation, and we fell deeper into one another. Like a fine sonnet that must be versed over and over again. She grabbed my hand in a moment and I could feel the soft and warm cushion of her palm pressing against mine. Then the moment arrived for her departure. I caught a grizzly stare from her father when his eyes met mine; he so quick to remember my earlier antics and I knew he would be one hard man to win over.
“Annabelle,” he firmly said, “it’s time to go dear.”
She twirled and faced me one last time with the face of want and need all in the same expression; looking into my eyes and finding my thoughts quite similar to hers; that angelic face; that sweetest ember carriage of a look, alike a signature all her own, fell to me with such a graceful embrace. I was nearly brought into an over-swept sea of gushing sentiment and feeling. I could not find the words to say. For whatever they were, they dropped from my tongue and lips and they fell crashing to the dirt floor. I said nothing, yet gave her a look that would speak a thousand meaningful words to her.
“I’ll see you next Saturday then,” she inquired as she went to her father’s side; turning slightly towards me to hear my response.
“Ye, ye, yes,” I hurried and muttered in the same fumbling breath. I attempted to speak more quickly than my speech would let me do so.
“Where?” she quickly shot back as the distance increased between us.
“Here, early,” I proposed as I stretched my sight to see hers.
She fell into the out-rushing clan and clad of people descending from the barn now. I felt a real and startling sense of loss as my eyes wandered into a blur and I could not fixate myself to anything for a time; dreaming into a daydream that settled me cold into a stupor. There was joy and sadness all in the same experience then and I had some confusion as to why; only that I felt this way and I so knew it was like a gift and a theft all in the same moment. As if the sun and rain had clashed in an instant and so produced a beautiful rainbow out of that calamity. I wondered in my thoughts for a spell and I drifted back into the barn where my father and mother met me. They embraced me as if I were a good child of theirs; and I, knowing full well the Randola could take me forever in the morrow. This then would be our final embrace to cherish, and I clung to them as if it were so…
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Diane is a professional blogger and nationally certified pharmacy technician with two teens, one husband and more pets than she will admit to. She has a BS in Microbiology but left her career in science to become a stay at home mom. Years of playing with LEGO and coloring with crayons had her craving a more grown up purpose to her life and she began blogging full time. She currently deals with emotional teens, suburban politics, and middle aged metabolism while sharing her opinions in an honest and down to earth fashion on her blog.
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