I began this as a piece of practice fiction last Friday, based on quotes I had received scheduled for 2/14/11 release. However, I did not finish, and though inspired last night, did not last that long after a long weekend. Rather than give a half hearted “completed story,” this will serve as part 1.
“…today means nothing unless you do it the other 364 days…”
Those words echoed in my head and prevented my return to sleep as I slowly woke up and stared at your old cool undisturbed pillow and sheets that lay on the other side of the bed and briefly imagined how you used to look as you slept. You hair always seemed to seemed to lay perfectly as if you were part of a photo shoot, or maybe that was just what you were to me. I remembered how you left without a trace…granted I knew that you were leaving, but there was nothing for me to remember you by. I realized that all of the women I had loved, though I did not marginalize you as such, had no scent. No cue that jogged memories of you out of the blue. But those, those who did not belong in my life, those who I knew were fun, friends, mistakes, incompatible, they had the strongest scents. But when I smelled the sweet aroma of her, I could always look at you and know I was in the presence of something greater.
I slowly allowed myself to get up and mull about my bedroom, as the yellow sun burned away the Brooklyn night and permeated through the buildings, it found its way through the slats in the blinds. The morning was nothing like the cool blue mornings in California as the windows faced the Pacific. Continue reading