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Wind on The Verandah by Michael Giardina - Page 4
"Don't you care?" "That doesn't bother me all that much. You loved him a lot, which means you care about me as well." "I did," she corrected. "You did?" "Okay. I do. That doesn't prove anything." "It doesn't have to," the man said. He smiled slightly. He moved his hand towards hers but she moved it away. He tried to cover for the gesture by placing his hand on the new drink that was placed before him. The woman finally began drinking one of the two drinks. "Where have you been? I know we're not like we were, but I don't see you." "I haven't been here," the woman said. "Where have you been?" "I've been taking a break." "I heard they took you away." "Who told you? Took me where?" "You don't have to hide. I don't think of you any less because of it." "They told you?" "They took your brother too?" "They had no right." "No right to tell me or no right to take your brother?" "Are you enjoying this?" the woman said. "I told you I don't think of you any less. I care." "You think you do but you don't know what it's like." "They took you before all of this happened?" "It was weeks before. I didn't even talk to him. He just did it. His family didn't even know about me and my brother. We might be related, but we considered it private. I don't even know how you heard. You shouldn't have heard. It's not your place." "I know it's private," the man said, "I had to find out. I was worried." "Why do you care anymore? You know how things are." "Love isn't something that just disappears. I love you regardless of your wings." "My what? The butterfly again? I said things aren't going to change. You can quit the flattery. I'm a stronger person now." "I didn't ask for anything." "I guess you didn't. I'm sorry." The wind began to blow through the verandah and both the man and woman looked out over the countryside. Small petals were floating through the air until they passed under the overhang of the verandah and dropped off onto the wooden banister. An eagle was flying over head and it dove down deep into the canyon. For a moment the couple lost sight of the bird but it soon flew back up into the sky with something dangling from its talons. "They do it for fun," the woman said. The man just sat there, staring. Something about the moment overwhelmed him and the woman could read the amazement in his eyes. "Yes. It was beautiful. They can do whatever they want. They get second chances, so they think it's all a game. They dive to eat but sometimes they do it just to see how close they can get." "You think he wanted a second chance?" "I think he just wanted life." "It doesn't seem like that." "I think he wanted to see the real life, comprised of something beautiful, hidden, and primitive." "The only thing that is beautiful," the man said, "is truth." "What kind of truth?" the woman said. "The things people do and think when nobody is around to judge. The things you really want to see are the things that people hide." "What are we trying to hide?" the woman said. "Truth," replied the man. "So that's why he did it?" "That's why I would do it." "You would do it?" "Only if there was a beautiful stream." "That's not funny," said the woman. "It wasn't supposed to be." The wind blew harder through the verandah. The screen on one of the windows of the café was beating back against the side of the wall. A dull whistle was created by the wind swooping down underneath an archway. The sound got sharper and sharper and the chairs started to shake. The woman looked awkwardly behind her. A shingle from the roof of the café landed harshly on the ground in front of them. The wind created a violent echo and the whole café seemed to shake. The walls seemed to be leaning with more anticipation than usual. The woman felt as if she was going to fall. The man was looking for a place to run. They looked into each others eyes and their hands suddenly came together. Their hands remained clasped tightly together. They closed their eyes and waited. Slowly the wind began to die down. The shingle slid off the slide of the Verandah and everything became quiet. The waitress walked out as if nothing had happened. The two were looking awkwardly at their hands. Their fingers were intimately entwined. It seemed wrong, but neither could quite grasp how it felt. The man took his hand back and said, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to -" "It's okay. I mean, I'm sorry." "Sorry for what?" the man asked. "Nothing." "How about we take a walk down to the stream. It seems like we're always up here. I don't think I've ever been down there." "I haven't either," said the woman, "I hear you can see your reflection in the water. It's supposed to be beautiful." "Then why are we always up here?" "I don't know." "So you'll go with me, then?" "Sure." "We're going to walk, right?" ... return to Creative Studios Fiction |
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