From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 10 Jun 2002 05:32:22 -0000
Subject: Getting out to stretch by Erin
Source: direct

Reply To: spookychic1@excite.com


It was nice to get out of the car. Even for a little while.

"Hmm." I hummed a little in appreciation, as I took a deep breath of
evening air. The atmosphere was heavy with mid-summer humidity, and
smelled sweet. Every inhalation was filled with the scent of lilacs
and freshly mowed grass. I was thrilled to be motionless, if only
temporarily.

Constant running, while I never wanted to admit it, was obviously
taking its toll on my spirit. This was a refreshing break.

Fireflies pulsed, God's miniature generators, out beyond the ancient
pine trees lining the edge of the property.

I was considering a rummage through the cabinets to find an old mason
jar. I was thinking how I could use it to house these Christmas lights
of July, reminiscing about childhood vacations, when the old porch
creaked under the sudden weight of an extra inhabitant.

"How do you feel about a Popsicle?" Came a smooth, familiar monotone,
as the screen door snapped shut behind us with a metallic thwak.

I love this man so much. It is a thought that occurs to me everyday,
at random points. I thought it then, as I felt him move to stand
beside me. As I watched him stare out into the dusky expanse, his gaze
coming back to rest on me.

"No tofutti, I know, but the box says they're fat free."  A strong,
warm hand smoothed over my hair, as he awaited an answer.

"Hmm." Tiny pricks of light, the first stars of the night, were
beginning to poke through the deep navy of the sky. I t was so
beautiful there. Someplace in Iowa. Our home for that week, or couple
of weeks. However long we could afford.

I savored the spills of pink and purple garbing the orange glow of the
setting sun, while swatting at my right arm, haphazardly attempting to
shoo a lone mosquito.

Leaving his left hand to rest on the crown of my head, he sat beside
me, producing the right hand from behind his back. In it, he held two
rapidly melting deserts.

"Red or purple?" His unemployed fingers strummed a light-hearted beat
on my cranium, his smile growing to resemble the Cheshire cat. The
porch light shone dimly behind him, forming a glow around his tall,
lean silhouette and turning his hair into a pseudo-halo.

"Strawberry or grape, you mean?" I gently mocked. Quickly grabbing the
strawberry from his grasp, I lapped at the sticky liquid running down
my fingers before it could stain my jeans.  He chuckled. "Same
difference."

 "Au contraire, red is not a flavor." My blue eyes were not doubt
flashing cat-like, as a slipped him a sly smile, removing his hand
from atop my head. I hesitated a beat before sticking in my last
playful jab. "Dumbass."

Throwing a look of faux-shock on his handsome face, he slipped a tan
arm around my shoulder, obviously undaunted. "And yet, you love me
anyway." Two shimmering pools of hazel captured me, as I turned my
head to simultaneously look him in the eye, and rest against him.

Crickets sang somewhere in the distance.

"You know it," I breathe softly, as his lips find mine in kiss that
tastes of Popsicles and peace.

We sat there, that night, for what seemed like hours. The endless
country sky seemed to swallow our fears, at least temporarily. We
simply enjoyed the presence of each other, the beauty of our
surroundings, and tried to forget that we'd soon have to get right
back in the car.