just to preface, this is my first attempt to write a ff. i refuse to capitalize, so if that bother's you, go no further!!
i am a lazy typer.
i want to thank krista, amelie, sunshine girl and englishrose for their inspiration and encouragement to do this thing.
i don't know how often i will be able to update, but lord know's...i'll try!!

IT IS TIME
ch1


i woke up at 4:20 a.m.. again.
no, i am not making a cannabis reference...it's just nature's irony, i suppose.
all summer long i had been waking up between 4:08 and 4:23a.m. and having epiphanies, large and small.
on this particular morning i got up and stumbled into my living room, popped in moby's new cd, and went outside to sit underneath my favorite tree in my yard. a birch tree, the kind with the bark that peels back like snakeskin.
i felt very close to this tree for some reason that morning...like it had a message to impart.
again, no cannabis having been consumed, it must seem pretty spacey for me to say that i had a conversation with my tree, but it's the truth.
me and pocohontas...we get it.
i don't remember exactly what my words were that morning...but i know in a sense i felt set free. free from myself and all my internal trappings that had been building up and bothering me since i had made such a major change in my life's path some month's before.
i remember knowing i was exactly where i belonged, which was a nice feeling, since i had pulled a rug out from under myself, my two small children and my (now)ex-husband...but he knew it was coming: his actions deemed it so. ripping myself from my christian bubble, and accepting the world at large, i had FINALLY decided to leave him and start anew.
all the years of trying to submit to dogma, of feeding myself the line that if i merely prayed and believed, he would change, came crashing down, along with my delusions. and i knew it wasn't just my fault.
i knew i was making the only decision there was left to make...and it WAS the right one.
moby tranced on about us all being made of stars, and i stared up into the sky.
i felt that thing that only comes around oh, so seldom. i felt ONE with my surroundings...with the earth, the sky, the elements. i felt as strong and stalwart in my resolve as that tree's bark against my tender back.
i loved my kids more than life itself, and i wondered how i could have ever let things get so far out of control. but i knew then it would never happen again, and the wounds of my past would only make me stronger.
i settled back against the tree and just...breathed.
i knew that after all my co-dependance that i was o.k. with ...just....ME.


i should have known then the universe was opening it's gateway's, because soon after that... when i knew i was complete with just little old me, and that i didn't need a partner or my kid's or any one else to define me...
that's when HE came along.

nature was laughing at me, or with me.
and two stars above we're crossed in the sky.

Yay! The long awaited story! What a beautiful way to start - I love it already!

thanks!!!
i'm happy someone has already read my tiny first chapter.
now i am going to get to work.

O.k., so I am abandoning my laziness and going to capitalize!!! Forgive me if I miss some, though. I am so used to all lowercase, I am bound to forget.
I am terrible at editing, and use ellipsis like crazy. It's just the way I roll!

ch 2

I knew who he was the moment I opened the door. As if I had been guided there by an unseen force that Brianna had somehow devised, yesterday's conversation pulsed through my mind:
"I went to register at the university today. I saw this guy in line...he was GORGEOUS, but that's not what struck me about him." Brianna said all this in one breath the moment I flipped open my phone. "He was emanating something...almost CHRIST-like., Buddha-esque... I don't know, maybe the fact that he was leading a blind girl had something to do with it," she quipped, "but I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, and you know I'm not looking for anything. Not right now. Because of," she paused painfully and gulped, "Tyson."
I could almost see her face darken and eyes shift to the floor. I decided to try and lighten the mood and get her mind back on mystery man:
" So what did this guy look like that struck your fancy? Did he see YOU?" I inquired.
"NO. I was hiding, believe me. I didn't go there to impress anybody...I looked like hell! I'm still fighting off this stupid Bronchitus. Who get's Bronchitus in summer??? ME."
Good. Her voice lifted, despite the scratchiness in her throat still lingering there. And she had forgotten about Tyson. Momentarily.
"Anyway," she carried on, " the first thing you see about this lovely piece of manflesh is his KILLER eyes. I am serious, girl. They are this wicked hazel blue/green. I swear they changed color 5 times in the whole 20 minutes I was admiring him. Freakin' chameleon."
"Kaleidoscope eyes." I sighed. I am a sucker for the windows to the soul.
"He has a soft face, but very masculine. Nice nose," she continued, "And Honey, once you're through staring into those gorgeous orbs...look out for the LIPS!" She paused for dramatic effect.
"He has beautiful lips. Full. Soft. Curvy. Oh Goddd," she groaned, which consequently resulted in a coughing spasm. I chuckled, trying to keep it to myself, " they almost rival YOURS, Sera." The corner off my mouth turned up, Mona Lisa style. A habit I had developed in middle school, when I learned of the famous painting. I think I had always done it, actually...one side of my mouth naturally curves into that knowing grin. Just like my right eyebrow goes sky high(think Scarlett o'Hara) when I am feeling saucey....angry...flirty. It's up a lot, let's leave it at that!
I unconsciously put my fingers to my lips. "Ya, me and Angeline Jolie." I smirked.
"Well, you guys do share the same birth week." she said so quickly, her words ran together. She started coughing again. I waited for her fit to subside.
I knew she was going to say this. We were astrological junkies. Both Gemini, both SOOOOO mercurial in thought. We called ourselves "twins", she was creamy and I was dark. That started during a night of drunken revelry, imbibing Leinenkugel Creamy Dark's as fast as we could swallow them. We were beer snobs, among other things. Brianna was pale and freckly. She seemed taller than she was, merely because she was soooo thin. She had waist length blonde hair with lots on natural brown highlights. She looked EXTREMELY German, and she was. Steel blue eyes, deep set. A strong nose (one that I admired her for. I hate nose job beauties. They make the world so boring), full mouth, but not too full. She was beautiful. A William Waterhouse girl.
She was "CREAMY!" She had screamed with laughter, in rare form that night. And I was declared "Dark." A title rightly given...not only in looks, but my moods had earned that description, as well. I was the girl who would bring a book and journal to the bar, if inhumanely dragged their by well-meaning friends when I was in one of my Anne Sexton/Sylvia Plath moods...and I had been in these more often as of late. And She knew it.
Brianna constantly waxed on about how French I looked and behaved, how I could blend right into the country-side there, and rub shoulder's with all the sexy Frenchmen...if I would just learn the language. Brianna had lived their for a 6 month stint as a Nanny some months before.
And She and I WERE quite alike, and yet, different. She was lighthearted and giggly. I was brooding.
Opposite in looks, I wasn't dark skinned, but just as pale as her. She was tall, thin and willowy. I was short, thin , but not too thin, and mildly curvy. My eyes a crazy amber color that was almost scary
and alien in direct sunlight. Long, dark locks, almost black; our hair was the same length, both of us having loads on natural curl. More like wave. We called it 'Mermaid hair'. I had a strong nose too, though not as quite as sharp as her's, more rounded at the end. And then I had those crazy pillowy lips that EVERYONE talked about. I hated it as a kid. I was mercilessly teased. I sang praises to the heaven's when Cindy Crawford busted onto the modelling scene, and all the sudden big lips were "in."
Surprisingly, I have never been accused of collagen injections, and I have to wonder if that is what people are thinking when they comment on my oversized bottom lip. I used to think it looked like I had been stung by a bee.
Now all the sudden, it was unbelievably hot and sexy. Kudos to Angelina and all her large lipped predecessors. She continued:
"He had equally gorgeous hair...the kind that looks like he just rolled out of bed after a night of crazy sex! It's this unique color somewhere between auburn and chestnut...or maybe it's both. Oh, I don't know," she sighed, "it's just SEXY. It sticks up all over, and yet flirts over his eyes. Those eyes..." she paused.
"Alright, Woman! Simmer down, now!" I hadn't seen her drone on like this since Tyson.
"Oh, I don't know why I'm so captivated," she rambled, " It's not like I'll ever see him again, I don't even want him for my own. That's a shocker, huh?" again, pausing for dramatic effect,
"So who else would I spill this to?"
The last part was rhetorical. She was prodding. I ignored it.
All she got out of me was "Hmmm." as the conversation subsided, but I tucked her memory of this mystery man away for a rainy day. Never knowing that day would come so soon.

What a way to describe him... wow! Hell, I'd want to pounce not even seeing him with a description like that!

Nice start I'm interested in seeing where this is going, most definitely!
Sooooooo on with the meeting, pretty please and thank you.

great start. I love this line 'He had equally gorgeous hair...the kind that looks like he just rolled out of bed after a night of crazy sex!' mwahahahahahaha. keep up the great work.

~Jess

Wow - that girl had got it bad already! Fantastic!

well here it is, Ch 3...and this one is LONG!
i am really having trouble staying in the correct tense, i keep wanting to skip back and forth, so if i missed anything, forgive me!


Ch 3



35 minutes till I had to be at work. The kids were with the sitter, and I wondered if leaving them would ever stop tugging my heart strings.
I still wasn't used to being a working mom after staying at home with them for so long.
I was trying to take it slow...waiting tables for a little Italian restaurant that was locally owned, eventually I planned on going back to school. Switching from my Theater major to English, I still wasn't sure if it was the right decision.
Theater was in my blood and had consumed my teen years. After my married life began and the kiddos came along, I turned back to the thing closest to my heart...writing. Either way, I knew I was screwed as far as a career was concerned. Both fields were way too competitive, and no matter how much talent I had or didn't have, I just didn't feel that much ambition anymore. Both served as outlets for me, but now seemed merely floating at "hobby" status. What I really wanted was to be back at home with my little ones. I never dreamed I would have to go back to work before they started kindergarten. Call me old fashioned, but it was a dream I hated to see die. When I left my ex I knew he wouldn't pull his weight. He still hadn't sent me a cent for child support, and it had been almost 6 months. I was struggling along, making ends meet, but ultimately I knew I was going to have to go back to school full time if I wanted to provide for my kids the life I wished them to have.
I brushed back a tear as I drove along the river. "This sucks." I said out loud. But at least the drive to work was aesthetically pleasing. It was a hot August afternoon, but there were was still some flowers along the bank stretching their splindly necks to the sky. A gust of wind wailed against my car window as I sat at a light, tapping the steering wheel. Should I just roll into work early, or maybe stop at one of my old dives along the way? The Riverside Perk was a colorful place I had frequented in my past, and I suddenly made up my mind to stop in and get a drink, for old times sake. A caffeine injection before work never hurt when you're waiting tables. I made my way there and parked my car right in front of the building, staring for a couple of minutes into the large window facing the street.
Still the same...just I was different. Even on a Sunday afternoon, their was a motley crew gathered within. Local artist's displayed their work on the walls, bored musicians loitered around outside, strumming guitars and humming, hoping to start a jam. Slowly, I opened my door and grabbed my bag. I decided I'd to take a little time to write, so I grabbed my books, too,
A group of writer's sat and argued by the door:" Bukowski!!!!" a woman with hair bearing resemblance to Janis Joplin's shouted, "Better than HENRY MILLER??? Are you insane?" An older man wearing a fedora balked at her, pounding his fist on a small, wobbly table for emphasis . I resisted a grin as I walked by, pulling my journal and favorite poetry book to my chest. Ah, this is a fight I would liked to have listened in on...I liked them both. The wind picked up and I quickened my pace. Right as I pulled the door open, another gust of wind came along and grabbed it from my hand. It creeked as it came to a halt with a thud against the bricks. I felt all head's turn in unison toward's me as I stood there in the entrance way...but my eyes we're only on one person.

It was him. Undoubtedly. The guy that Brianna had droned on so lustily about yesterday....and he was here. It was him...and he was staring straight into my eyes, and NOT looking away.
I felt frozen to the ground. Serendipity??? Destiny?? Fate?
My mind was whirling. Why would I just absolutely KNOW this is the guy? There are 500,000 people in this town, which is no metropolis, but still, what were the chances? I felt set up, but there was no way.
And really...no reason to get so absurd about it. I started talking myself down. It was coincidence. No big deal. No reason to be superstitious. I was being ridiculous. I was still staring.
I peeled my eyes away from those breathtaking eyes of his. He refused to disconnect. I don't think either one of us had even dared to blink. I could feel his eyes on me as I approached the counter. He turned his head and followed my steps, now turned completely sideways in his booth, a phone glued to his ear.
As I stood waiting for my drink, I told myself that if I was suppose to meet this guy, it would happen naturally. No need to rush things. Sure, I had no guarantees that I WOULD see him again, but if fate or destiny or WHATEVER you want to call it had a hand in this; why shouldn't I be confident our paths wouldn't cross again? Besides, he was on the phone. And what would I say? I wasn't shy, but I wasn't the type to start a conversation with a stranger...at least not one that I had already felt an impulse to rip off his clothes and straddle. "I could kill Brianna." I grumbled internally," Why did she do this to me?"
The barista handed me my caramel latte and I proceeded to the opposite counter to pepper my drink with nutmeg. Too much nutmeg can kill you, sometimes my mouth would tingle just from a sprinkling of it. I shook on a little more. Maybe if I numbed my tongue I wouldn't be tempted to speak.
I turned around and my eyes spanned the room for a table. Wouldn't you know it...the only available one was right in front of mystery man. "Alright," I thought to myself, as I headed in that direction, "I'm not going to force it, but I'm not going to fight it, either." I tossed my bag next to me as I carefully set down my books and drink. Mystery Man was trying a little harder to be discreet now. Or maybe he was just distracted. He was still on the phone, and I cautiously glanced at his table, which was littered with various bills. He was paying his bills by phone. I opened up my Rilke compilation. THIS was my Bible. My safeguard...my lifesupport... a taliman I took with me everywhere. Whenever I opened it's dog-eared cover, I felt like I was home.
I felt his eyes on me again and began to feel warm. From my peripheral vision I could see his finger's tugging on a little wisp of hair right above his ear, which was extremely cute to me. He had smooth, large hands. I wondered how small and warm my tiny child-like hands would feel in his. I had super small hands for a woman. Everyone always marvelled at them, and surprisingly, this didn't bother me. I liked it.
I began reading:
"Herr, Es ist zeit."
English?
"Lord, It is time."
I told myself not to read too much into this. I continued:
Lord, It is time. It's time.
The summer was immense.
Lay your shadows on
and on the open fields and let the winds go free!

Command the last fruits to be full;
give them just two more southern days,
urge them on to completion and chase
the last sweetness into heavy wine.
Who has no house now, will never build one.
Who is alone now, will long remain so,
will stay awake, read, write long letters
and will wander restlessly up and down
the tree lined streets, when the leaves are drifting.

I sighed. I had barely been able to read through the poem, I was so distracted by the sound of his voice.
It was velvet to my ears. I love gravelly voices. Nicolas Cage is no text book beauty, but his eyes and voice alone could reduce me to a a puddle on the floor. This guys voice was having the same effect on me.
Looks beautiful, sounds beautiful...he had been graced with so many nice physical attributes, the cynic in me tried to comfort myself: he must be an asshole.
I turned my attention back to the poem and reflected. It was not one of my favorite works of Rilke's but it was nice...and that beginning had really thrown me. It seemed poignant to my mental situation, but I had a knack for reading into things.
I was feeling dreamy. I opened my journal and began to write:

Es ist zeit.
The day I met you.
I suddenly felt the impulse to write something abstract, tear it out of this journal and hand it to him. He was still on the phone, assaulting my ears with that whispery voice of his. Sad that he was discussing credit card consolidation, and it was turning me on. I glanced at my watch...I needed to leave in a couple of minutes, so I guessed fate wasn't on our side. I turned back to my journal and scribbled a few thoughts:

the people at the table caddy corner to me are playing some sort of speed chess....between each move they hit the top of a clock, a double time piece.
it reminds me of a grandffather clock...their moves are in precision,
constant and fluid.
i feel my own biological clock ticking.
my internal syncopation.
biorhythms.
"whoever is alone now will remain alone
will wait up..."
autumn is coming.
for whom will i wait up for? for what?
you?
would i rather "write long letters" under a canopy of green?
do i know what it is to be ALONE?
i know.
i don't NEED anyone,
so
why do i find myself longing...
for you.

I pressed my thumb to my watch. I had to leave, I knew without looking. Contemplating giving this to him, I stood up and smoothed out my skirt.I saw his head rise and felt his eyes on me, gradually tilting his head up and down. He was looking at ALL of me... why did I have to be in uniform??
"This is crazy," I whispered. I wasn't going to give it to him. It didn't feel right, it didn't say enough, or maybe it was too much... maybe I was just scared. I began to gather my things, and he jumped up and started quickly collecting his paper's.
Did I detect a note of panic in his movements? He was rushing through his conversation now, and began pacing quickly back and forth, taking long strides all the way to the door. He paused there, and placed his hand high on the wall.
He was taller that I thought. Of course, everyone is tall next to me...barely pushing 5'2", I hadn't grown an inch since I was 13. His body was long and lean. He wore a plaid western shirt with pearl buttons, and Old Levis' that fit just right. My eyes fell to his waist. Even through his jeans, he looked... well endowed.
Quickly, I turned away, realizing I was staring. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I grabbed my belongings and headed for the door. He was pacing again, and practically running to his table as I made it to the door and out into the wind.
'Did he want to talk to me??" I wanted to believe it. I supressed a smile...it sure had seemed that way. I felt a new sense of confidence as I made my way to my car. If we were suppose to meet, I would see him again.
But i couldn't help but feeling disappointed.

Standing at the passenger's side of my car, I creaked open the door and tossed my books and bag inside. I glanced down into the street and saw a a tiny toy lying there. I reached down and picked it up: it was a "Fisher Price Little People" toy. The kind with just a head and tube body that would fit on a car, or boat or in a barn. I had LOVED those when I was kid, and this one looked old enough to have been mine back then.
I flipped it over and brushed the dirt from it's face. Black hair and a red shirt with a large letter "A" on the front. I laughed out loud."It's a Hester Prynne action figure!" I mumbled to myself. I loved classics, and The Scarlet Letter had left an impact on me when I read it in high school.

Someone was clearing their throat,
"Hello." A voice soft, low and whispy. The kind of tonality that drives me wild.
I had nearly jumped out of my skin as I whipped around and held the hand with "Hester" behind my back. I was squeezing her as if she was my salvation.
He was standing just a couple of feet away. How had he gotten so close to me without me hearing his footsteps??My mind reeled. He followed me out here. So. It wasn't just me.
I looked into his sea -like eyes. They were swimming with...anticipation? OH God, I had to say something...
"Hi." I whispered, practically flogging myself on the inside. Where was my confidence??
I was not a shy girl.
He reached out his long fingers towards mine: "I'm David." His hand found mind, as warm and smooth as I had imagined it. He didn't shake it, just merely held it cupped in his own. His eyes we're so FULL...of an emotion I couldn't guess. But it was effecting me. Deeply. My knees felt weak, my heart was pounding. I couldn't stop looking into those agate eyes of his.
His velvet voice still tingling in my ears, I remembered, I had to reply. Barely above a whisper, I choked out: "I'm Sera. Seraphina." His eyebrow shot up . Did he recognize my name?
I had never met anyone that had my name before. Sera/Sara(h) is common enough, but never a "Seraphina". I often wondered what my parent's had been drinking when they named me, but I knew the story. I pushed it out of my mind.
"Fiery one." He breathed, his mouth turning up into a crooked smile. I gasped. That. That eyebrow thing, And the smile...that was just....like...me!
Unreal. And how could he know the meaning of my name!?
"Keep up on your Latin?" I smiled slyly. I felt my confidence flowing back to me. I gently squeezed his hand.
He responded with a sexy flash of his eyes: "The Romance language...who said it was dead?" I felt my mouth curving up. He stared steadily at my lips, his voice a soft growl: "Do you want to go out sometime?"
Oh no. I would be breaking one of my own rules...I never just meet someone and agree to go out with them...ever. It's just not my style. I am strictly a "friends first, get to know you" kind of girl. I don't like to leave the impression of being to eager, even though in this case, I was.
"Yes." the word was out of my mouth before I realized I had said it.
Was there a full eclipse of the sun scheduled for today??? I was acting SO out of character around this guy.
"O.k." He grinned. God, that grin was sexy. He pulled his phone out of his pocket: "Let me get your number in here." Releasing my hand, I already missed his touch. I gave him my number and watched his lips silently repeat it back as I spoke.
I wanted to touch those lips. THe soft wave of his upper lip was beckoning to me. I glanced up. He was watching me...watching him. "I've got it." he almost laughed. His eyes sparkled his amusement. He felt the connection; my CRAZY, obvious attraction; and he was enjoying my lack of subtlety.
I felt my cheeks flush. Again. I squeezed Hester for support.
"Well, I have a really busy week.But I will call you on Thursday, and we'll make plans?" he said, the eyebrow rising up again.
I thought of other things..rising so easily.
Oh god! What was wrong with me! I had completely lost my composure around this...David.
'ANSWER HIM!!!' my brain was screaming.
"O.k.. " I sounded meek to my own ears. What kind of effed up impression was I leaving here??? I stood up straight.
"I work on Thursday night, and I won't be off until late...around 10 or 11." I heard my true voice returning. This was better.
"Alright, I will call you around 5. Maybe we can meet up for a late drink?" he questioned.
"That MIGHT work, but I have to..." I glanced at my car seats through the back window, "We'll just have to see how my evening goes. I'm a tip whore!!" I curtsied as I held out one corner of my black skirt.
He grinned...it was contagious. "I thought that looked like a waitress uniform."
My face dropped. "Speaking of that, I am going to be late!!" I took a step towards my car.
He nodded and took a step back, also. So, this was it...
But then I had to ask him...just to be sure: "By the way, were you at the university yesterday?" I asked, feeling my own brow raise.
He looked puzzled: "Ya, but I didn't see YOU there..."
"I wasn't." I said it too fast.
He looked at me inquisitively, waiting for more info. How could I explain this without sounding nutty?? SHIT! I shouldn't have said anything... I continued internally berating myself. He was intently staring at me, waiting for me to say...something.
I took in a deep breath: "No, I wasn't there. But my best friend was, and she said she saw you there...leading a blind girl?"
FUCK. I told the truth. But now Creamy and Dark appear to be a couple of stalkers.
His face relaxed, and he threw back his head and let out a long, delicious laugh: "That really explains nothing. But we can talk about it" he wiggled his eyebrows,"on Thursday."
My face felt like it would fall off. I squeezed out: "Alright." And he laughed again.
I loved him and hated him for it.
He looked at the arm I had been holding behind my back this whole time. "Whatcha got back there?"
Oh God! I can't explain that, too. I was quickly falling into weirdo status in my own eyes.
I opened the car door wide as a means of escape. Sitting down, I slid onto the bench seat and shoved Hester behind my books. . I was currently driving an old Buick Skylark. I loved muscle cars. And by the lookof appreciation in his eyes, I could tell he did, too.
I raised my hands into the air with a grin: "Whatever are you talking about?" Quickly, I crossed my hands into my lap. He stared where they met in the pleating my my skirt for a moment before he caught himself and looked up into my face.
"So small." he said in a whisper. I smiled softly.
He knew I had heard him, and now his cheeks were turning red.
I just continued smiling, as I lifted my hand into a wave and slowly closed my door. I slid the rest of the way across the seat, buckled up and started the car.
Everything about that meeting had been awkward, but strangely, I kind of liked it that way. It seemed refreshingly...REAL.
I looked over my shoulder and pulled out onto the road, humming to myself. Thursday seemed so far away....but it was only four days, and I couldn't WAIT to tell Brianna about this close encounter. I knew she would talk about it incessantly between now and then. It would be our "analyze and philosophize" flavor of the week.
As I approached the light to turn left, I glanced into my rearview mirror.
David was standing with one foot in the road and watching me drive away.
He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, and the most serene expression on his face. Our eyes met, and across the distance I saw his mouth curve into that lopsided smile in unison with my own.
A fresh gust of wind blew against my window, and the sound whirred in my ears.
It reminded me of David's voice, soft and growling.
Thursday couldn't come too soon.

Wow! Lily, that was beautiful - so worth the wait! I loved it! It was perfect!

i'm really liking this a lot!
your style of writing is great! i love your descriptions <3
i can't wait to see where you take this!
more, please! hehe

for those who have read this, sorry i am taking my sweet time to get the next chapters written.
i actually had chapter 4 written in word...almost done...when my computer spontaneously decided to restart itself, and it didn't save. grrrr. bleep.bleep.bloop.
anyway, i just need to wrap my brain around this again and get going.
i have been too busy reading all teh terrific stories on here and not writing!!
i feel a little direction-less...like i ultimately don't know where i want to go and what cliffhangers i should go with...guess i'm kinda having a writer's dilemma.
hopefully i will get off my duff and figure some stuff out...
till then..cheerio!

We don't mind waiting! I know when the next chapter comes it'll be brilliant, I love your writing style! And don't worry about the writers block - it'll pass and inspiration will strike when you least expect it!