The Journey of You and I, Together, Pt. 5

When I finally did wake up, the sun was already out. I assumed that I slept much longer than I really had, but when I checked the time it was only almost eight and you were still sleeping. No matter how hard it was to resist, I drew the line at watching people sleep. You were very peaceful looking, and that’s all I really needed to know about your sleeping habits. Why be a creeper and ruin such a good time? There was no good answer to that question, and I didn’t find watching people sleep intriguing anyway. More like an invasion of privacy, so with that I moved on. It was much too early for me to eat, so I decided to tidy myself. I took a hot shower, brushed teeth, washed face, and more importantly, tamed my hair. After that was all said and done, I moved to the back porch. There was a big swinging bench type thing, so I gathered my pen and notebook to have some relax time. I sat with one leg hanging off the swing, so that I would have my knee to rest my notebook. As I was writing, I felt the need to document the details of our journey so far. There was so much to think about that I didn’t know where to begin. Once my thought process began working in a logical way, I figured that there was no better place to start than at the beginning. I mean, I was no William Faulkner. Chronological order was the thing that had inhabited itself inside of me so deep that there was no turning back now. Like a conscience. Or a tumor. “That was a good use of abstract versus concrete, I should use that in a poem”, I thought. I then laughed at myself a little bit for my flashbacks on literary analysis. Ina sick, twisted, nonsensical way I would miss doing it. Regardless, I would start the story from the beginning and work my way through like I rightfully should. Before I put my pen to the page, I took another look at my atmosphere. The sun was out, and there was still moisture in the air from the rain. It smelled really good. I did a roundabout glance to end up facing down at my paper. I put the tip of the pen to the paper, inhaled, exhaled, and the words came out. “I can see the sun just a little, peeking from behind the clouds. It was almost like a child playing hide and seek.” I wrote carefully in script. I heard two knocks and you came outside to join me on the swinging bench. “What are you writing?” you asked. I replied with, “A story. The story we’ve been writing, together.”


Hope you enjoyed(:
I'm working on my next story now.
-Micah Galore<3