Well, I Remember
conversations #2

The air was warm and thick, the way East Texas summers are. The lazy atmosphere consumed even the sun during its nightly descent, as the golden rays seemingly basked them for hours. The crickets sang a chorus that complimented the silence that sat between them. Lovers that had once found comfort in every utterance were now separated by the immense time that had left their relationship fragile. The woman that now sat beside him was a mystery; her green eyes presented an enigma as they coldly gazed over the lake.
“You came to see me the other day.” His statement felt safe in the myriad of questions that surrounded him. He could see that her heart was full of them, questions of purpose and meaning. He felt his statement was feeble and lacking, but he concentrated his gaze on her face, looking vainly for a flicker of response.
“You came to see me and I wasn’t there.” This delicate dance was going to be slow. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, watching an unknown scene.
“No.” He was struck by the quiet but strong word that had materialized between them. Her face remained unchanged but her voice had been too definitive to be a figment. “You were there.” She turned to him slowly, but her eyes remained fixed ahead as she measured her words. “You were there and you left. I reached for you and…” Her eyes darted to her hands as she gathered the strength to go on. “…and you pulled back. You left. You were always the one that was there, quietly unassuming and reassuring with your constant love. Now…I don’t know you anymore.” Her words cut him deeply as her eyes finally looked into his. The emerald of her eyes had shifted into a hard jade. Her gaze fell back to her hands and a revelation suddenly gripped her mind. “I reached for you.” Her hand shot out at the precise moment she awoke alone in her bed. Her cry was filled with confusion, hope and despair, “oh God,” but silence was her only answer.

Remember it well
Conversations #1


She breathed in a sigh of relief and listened to the wood creak in response. Old wooden benches, laid down with piety, rubbed worn from trembling hands. “Remember us?” she spoke softly to him. “Remember us in this place, when I was young and you were so wise. Remember when you held me here and made me believe? I remember it well, my skin on fire with the warmth of your embrace; I can feel it now.

“Remember us?”

The sweat of her palm left a print on the antique wood, an unseen mark to her tightly closed eyes. Her memories plagued the moments that surrounded her, causing her fear of what she might see if her eyes were to open. The air around her was thick, warming her through her thin blouse.

“I know we can be together again if we just…”

She reached her hands out to touch him but only grasped the air. Her eyes opened in a flourish of despair and she was alone again. There were no accompanying palm prints to remind her of the presence she had felt so clearly next to her. There was no sound that could fill the void that permeated the dark wooden walls. Her eyes quickly pressed tightly together again but the words were gone. Her throat choked back a cry, the air whitened by the condensation in her warm breath. She placed her palms squarely on the altar, and lifted herself up from her knees. With her eyes squarely on the cross she turned and walked slowly out of the sanctuary.