Category: Fictional Musings

-He resuscitated her, the image of her, if nothing else. She had been absent from his mind for years, except for the occasional thought of what if. The thought itself had been so ephemeral that it was hardly a thought. But it was that dream, her resurfacing. Like with most people and events he had encountered in the length of his consciousness, when he attempted, he could never remember them well enough to remember them, simply a vague impression, but in that dream, she was more real than she had been at any point of their material acquaintance. It made […]

-They sit in his car, the water trickles down the windshield, as the raindrops fall. He’s telling a story. Something to do with a couple of friends of his. She makes those gestures, the ones that make him think Gui yop ta. She watches him, almost as if waiting for something. She knows. And there’s the moment, he leans into her, his eyes on her, and their lips touch, softly. He pulls back and almost without missing a beat, he continues telling the story, smiling a little wider now. He looks at the door, at the handle, at the umbrella […]

-The music spirals in the air between them, they look onto the road ahead. His smile still lingering, her hand in his. The car turns, right, right, right, then left. With each turn she sways to the side. With each right, she sways away and he tugs gently on her hand to keep her close. With the final left, she comes a little closer and the muscles on his face, tug a little more, widening his smile. She looks at him and she smiles, also. There’s something wonderful here. The car stops and the engine idles, then becomes silent. He […]

-“I cast a spell on you…” the musical notes fade softly, leaving only meaning. He thinks of her and smiles. He recalls the scene from a movie, in which, in a long shot, a woman walks across the screen, stopping only to press play. It left an impression, the song. He wants to share it with her. He keeps hearing it throughout the day, each time he feels their spirits touch, and its there, on his lips, behind every word they share. The sun lingers on the lazy horizon as the wind sweeps through the canyons. They stand, the two, […]

-He awakens with a thought of her, the impression of their night together, still fresh and perpetuating itself in his mind. In his half conscious state, he can feel the muscles tugging at his face and the resulting smile. It helps him open his eyes a little wider and clears his grogginess. The smile. He thinks back to the moments. The dance between them, even before they agree to dance between them. The soft caresses. Something about the sensual and the playful, something about the smiles and the sensing of each other. And ‘it’s energy he swears.’ She smiles, almost […]

-His mind floods over with forgotten memories of the people he’s encountered but never met again. Even then, the image eludes him. He starts to wonder how it is possible that so many conversations and their moments can lie hidden in the mind, forgotten and inaccessible but through an exhaustive plunge into the abyss of memory; and even then, not everything is recovered. Perhaps, they’re the earliest stages of Alzheimer’s. And he remembers his father moping through the house, always with that frustrated look on his face, always searching for something and being unable to find it. The weepy eyes […]

-His hands dance upon the table, his left collapses and lies inert, his right dangles near the edge, the empty space of ambivalence. She sits to the right of him, to the side of him. Her hands wrapped around her knee. She’s holding it, not loosely, but with a certain clench. Creating warmth perhaps, the tightened muscles visible along her hand’s structure. And he continues. He feeds off of her sweet giggling, the smile that catches her face by surprise every couple of minutes when their eyes meet anew. His own face is taken as well in the sweet encounter […]

-He stares into them, the eyes, and almost achieves recognition. The mechanism of memory, in his mind races through the recollection of brown/hazel/tan eyes he’s ever encountered, but the light hazels, which now feel pressed against his own, blur in proximity and become perceptibly imperceptible. Even if he had a photographic memory, as at times he believes he does, without a clear perception, it’d only be a cumbersome frustration, as it was most likely the relaxed light headedness that allowed him to relapse into the state between consciousness and sleep. Staring, staring into, even after the focus has been completely […]

-He gets off the bed, stepping on the blanket, which remains on the floor, gazes around the room laconically before exiting it, toward the bathroom. Even when he lets go of things, he has this tendency of holding on. The thought crosses his mind as the light comes on in the small mildewed bathroom, the trickle sound of water splashing, it’s like the wall. And he thinks about the walls of the old house. They’ve been painted over countless times, so that when you sit in a room long enough, simply staring into them, you can make out the outlines […]

-He rolls over in his bed, his eyes moving rapidly underneath his thin, almost translucent eyelids. The rain outside crashes against the window, a stampede of ants, crushing any possibility of seeing the world outside. With a sudden snap, his eyelids roll back in his head and he exhales a long frothy breath. A cloud with a haze, taken from the moment of waking, the stealing moments of dreams. He breathes heavy as he sits there, the blanket strewn to the ground. It’s the same blanket that has been there every morning at his waking; the same blanket that he […]