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The story I’ve been writing call where we found ourselves

The night we met
by hayden mccain
chapter 1
Her eyes like a sword pierced me
with an immense sense of purity .
She smiled timidly with her jaw subtly shaking.
She meekly murmured out the words “ h-h-hello you m-may call me Yolita“.
I smiled and softly sent back “ how do you do my name is Marlowe “.
she replied “I’m im d-doing ok-kay I’m j-j-just nervous
yes nervous ” .
I responded “ nervous about what? if you don’t mind me asking”.
She paused for a moment
then in a soft shy tone she said” I’m not used to crowds or p-people .
OI find their loud boisterous voices
quite vulgar. May we go s-somewhere
with less people please that way I’ll feel more comfortable “.
My face then sprouted out a sentimental
smile and
my head wholesomely bowed in agreement .
So from there I followed her out the door.
We strolled down
that cracked crooked cobblestone street .
Not one thing could be heard except
for the sounds of our feebleminded

We then stopped and silently stared at a creek
crystallized by the moon’s lustrous light.
I then finally slit myself free from
the straight jacket of silence
and said “ Yolita enlighten me on
what your life was in this little yarn of yesteryear “.
Her eyes sunken in the seas of sorrow
Then wandered aimlessly in an inner panic.

Until like a bird they finally perched themselves upon the patio of mine.
Then with a tear trickling down her face she whimpered the words.
“ Please, I don't want to reminisce upon my past . For in their fists they hold too much pain for me t-to bear .”

chapter 2
the memories of Marlowe

In response I took a deep breath in and bellowed out these words. “ Alright how about I’ll tell you my life
I was born in New Bedford . My mother was an immensely stubborn woman; her mind was like a board stiff and still not bending for anyone except for herself. And with that stubbornness came a price which was my freedom .”
Yolita looked at me puzzled and produced “ your freedom?”.
“Yes, my freedom you see with stubbornness comes the endless desire to control. To have the world grobble at your feet and serve your every word and command. And that’s how she viewed me not as a human but as a tool just there for her own necessity.
Year after year after year I had to put up with her insidious commands as she made me a daily butler for her since birth. Until that one devine day when the most illustrious idea illuminated itself within my mind . And that idea was to run away to break free from this torturous ordeal . I packed my things and joyously leapt myself out of the window and into the open arms of freedom . But then my mind strolled itself into the realization that I was completely and utterly doomed . I’ve just walked into a new world without having self meaning, hope, or experience.. I'm the only oddball in a bucket of normality .Where the even ones are exquisitely fixed to flourish within the fluorescent flames of this pompous high modern day society. Now two years passed and here I am meeting you
an enigma. Thrown in this so-called perfection that this world tries to strive for but never successfully .
So I've told you my problematic past. You don't have to tell me about your past but rather can you tell me about your present day life ? That is if you are comfortable with that of course .’’
chapter 3

She stood there in silence within her mind taking my words and putting them into her cautious cage of consideration. Where they reformed themselves into an reply
“ I suppose that will b-be fair .
I’m twenty nine and fairly new to this c-c-country. I'm living in a fine little flat that lies on Mansfield boulevard .
As for occupation, I'm a waitress at a diner called the Dimehead. It's not my dream job but I'm desperate so I take what I can without complaining .”
“Where do you come from? “ I asked, then she sended back the answer by saying “ oh I’m from Cork ,Ireland “.
In response She kicked my mind with her curiosity by asking “ Marlowe where do you live ?”
I lent her a reply “ I live in a small town house near Sparrow Street. It's not anything grand or big but it’s home . Better than living upon the luxury of my loneliness “. Yolita then Sprouted out a subtle smile and said “ I like talking to you Marlowe “. I replied back with a gratified grin growing across my face “ well I like you to Yolita and you and your tenderly timid words .”
She then opened her mouth and cracked out a question
“ by the way Marlowe, what d-do you do for a living?”
I answered in a simple manner “ oh I'm a piano player for the bar called The Bitter Bugs Burrow . The pay is not good in the slightest but the work is mighty enjoyable. I wouldn't trade it for the world . Playing the piano let’s my thoughts sizzle out of my subconscious and onto the wholesome harmonic melodies that rings out
.The essence of each and every note “.
She quickly questions me with the idea
“ Marlowe, can I hear you play sometime ?”.
I answered “ Sure how about on Saturday say about three in the afternoon “.
Then her lips lent me the sweetest smile and said “ that will be g-g-good “.
Like every book the moment of my memory must come to a halt and cease to continue . So I looked into her violet eyes and said “I’ll see you on saturday ‘’. I then gave her a humble heartfelt hug and my legs leapt into the action of departure .

Chapter 4 two by two

Time dripped through the dawn and plummeted upon that day . Where my feet had finally fled onto the doorstep that blushed out the buoyant color of brown . Which overtime had dampened into darkness.
I raised my firm fist and knocked on the door . It creaked open revealing Yolita with her short royal rose red hair and her vivacious violet eyes . she had grown out a grin and greeted me inside . Inside there was a piano pleasantly polished with pieces of perfection. I looked back at her and asked. “ So what do you want me to play?” She shot my question with an arrow of an answer “ any old thing it doesn’t matter as long as you play it .” I took a deep breath and began to play.
The notes started like a storm deep, strong, loud and low but then soon sizzled down to those soft delicate divine doses of serenity that made my soul be sewn onto one goal and that is to continue playing .
Yolitas face was flooded with admiration and was grazed by the beatific bullet of grace.
She happily began to hum her way into the humble house of harmony.
In response I held out a wholesome open hand and said “ care to dance”
She then mumbled out an explanation “ I d-d-don’t know how to dance” .
I sighed out a reply
“ Then I’ll teach you now first take my hand .”
She grasped her hand onto mine
“ now slowly follow my footsteps
two three
two three
two three .”

Round and round we graciously
glided across the floor with my hand gently held at her side.
Our eyes were like chains bounded towards each other, never breaking apart the contact .
Our hearts had heaved us closer and closer until finally our lips latched onto each other passionately proclaiming a newfound love .

Chapter 5 confessions of the past

That precious picture of the present was finally flicked back into the past as Yolita’s words arrived in an anxious manner. “ I-I-im ready t-to shed you s-some light upon the ambiguity of my pitiful past.”
I cautiously replied, “ Are you sure you're ready?”
She took my card of question and through down an ace of an answer
“ yes I’m r-r-ready.
“In Ireland my life was a withering cause .
I never knew my m-mother . She died giving birth to me.
And in sorrow my f-father b-b-blamed her death upon me
and gave me up to the streets filled with the silken white snow and the misty night air .
From then on I was a d-d-drifter with nowhere to go.
I walked down the streets passing building after building.
Until my legs collapsed upon the opportunity that would change my life to start a n-new world for me .
And that opportunity was America.
Th-three weeks after arriving I got this waitress job and worked my way through the years up from the streets into my present home
That's when I met you .

Marlowe you and I
we are two broken
pieces of one shattered heart.”

My eyes glazed over with the caring curtain of sympathy gazed at her and I softly sent

“ I’m sorry for making you trott down your torturous lane of memory . “
She met my eyes with a single tender tear trickling down her face and said “ No you have n-n-nothing to feel sorry for, it's not your fault. You actually make me feel like I matter . “
She then subtly snuck her hand into the comfort of mine.
I gently rubbed her hand and heaped my mouth into a sound and said “ Yolita you're a flame that light’s something inside me. Brightening out my mind's lonely room of solitude that has carefully hid itself deep within my past pledged in pity and painted with pellets of pain.”
My mouth cracked crooked and broke out a smile that lays itself down in laughter as I continued with. “ You know
It’s funny that us
two broken pieces together make one perfect part in this rambunctious puzzle of imperfection. “

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