Skip to main content

The Passcode Conspiracy

Shelia met Donavan through friends. He was the perfect boy, she thought. She adored how smart he was, how cute he was-he had a shine to him like Windex on a fresh mirror. Like no one she had ever seen before.
However, he was a boy to her still even though he could be found to be four years older than she was. She had lived through many things in her short life-as did he, but hers she took more to heart. Shelia was thoughtful by nature, always taking time each day no matter what to enjoy the thoughts she liked. She took time for thoughts she did not like, too.
Donavan liked Shelia. He liked her a lot. She always made him smile and laugh and think a lot when they were together. He only thought about how she was not the “typical girl” he envisioned when he was not with her. He was too busy happy when he was with her.
They had been seeing each other for a few times a week for a few hours at a time, but no matter where they met up-they always went for root beer.
It was on one-such occasion, out for their root beer, they became aware that both really did like each other and a big chunk of their mutual and constant nervousness dissipated.
Shelia had a little white wired-haired terrier named Jasper (Willybottoms was his last name, but she told few people that). Since they were over at her little two-bedroom on a green, green lawn house on this night and since they always went for root beer, it was decided to take Jasper for his walk. Jasper tolerated Donavan because Shelia liked him so much. Donavan tolerated Jasper because he liked Shelia so much.
It was a chilly spring evening, one where they could have worn their winter coats again but they had already put them away for the season in hopes doing so would make the winter stop. The air was crisp and smelt heavily of autumn's rot just recently uncovered by the melting of the snow. The wind was not strong but cutting enough with the chill. That was reason enough to make this a quick walk, in Donavan’s mind-plus there were two movies to be watched when they got back to Shelia’s. That meant sitting in the dark.

Comments

AJ in Nashville said…
*listening intently*
More please..

:)

Popular posts from this blog

The Village Itself

Across the road from my home is an apartment building. It is made of brown brick and has three stories. It also has plenty of windows I often forget about while I go about my daily and nightly routines. I also forget my curtains are white, lacey and see-through scraps purchased from an aisle in Wal-Mart. Fifteen apartments. That may all house people with binoculars. It was the muggiest night this past summer had owned. Brenda was down for a visit and when she comes, it usually means a night spent over on my couch for her. Brenda lives in another town. It was one in the morning, no sleep to be found between the two us. We sat slouched on my front porch trying to capture the occasional breeze offered, sucking it deep into our lungs, praying it would cool us down. Our glasses of Pepsi sweated warning us how warm the drink would taste in our mouths. "Tilly! Tilly!" the shout sat our spines straight as we looked across the street to the where the sound was coming fr...

Unending Paper Chase

You check in on me when you get your break for lunchtime now. You never used to. You ask me, "Are you all right?" You breath in and out hard once through your nose, like it is a chore to even ask. It seems to me that for you everything is an obligation, even holding my hand. Everything you do doesn't feel like anything more than surveillance now. I don't want the days to end and it is getting harder to sleep at night. I am starting to feel sick, like I have the flu. I'm always cold. But I haven't eaten much lately. My stomach is filled with acid. I smile at you anyway. I write two letters a day. One to keep you smiling and one that tells of the truth, but they both look the same. You do not know that I form certain words and sentences in a way that triggers me, in a way that reminds me of what is real. It is something that I started doing in grade school for tests, so that I could easily remember the answers, and then later, so my mother would not underst...

Rosy Cheeks

My son's circle and lined wall, created with the permanent red marker, became something he liked to show-off. I guess the other kids who come here liked it, too.   I guess he wanted to show-off more. That is one of the many hypothesis I have about how the Map of Africa came to be. I just keep hoping my kid is some kind of odd little genius.  On the morning I discovered the map of Africa, I was not speechless and I could breathe. "What is this?" I demanded. And loudly. My son shrugged his shoulders. "I like it. It's nice. Took a long time." He had chipped paint off the wall. His walls are white. That morning, it was discovered his room used to be beige.   And it was starting to look like a room in an abandoned house. I thought to myself that maybe this look would be the in thing  20 years from now and he could make millions. He could be a visionary. It was a good enough excuse for me to leave the room. I used it...