February

February

This is an excerpt from the second volume in the twelve part story, “Four Seasons.”   If you would like to subscribe  (for free) to the rest, the form is at the bottom.

Please enjoy.

The interior of the park was distant cousin to its perimeter.  The park which blurred by at 35 MPH was pretty.  Seen up close, it was beautiful.  One hundred trees swayed softly in a circle surrounding a placid pond where a dozen ducks danced in a crooked line across the water.  February frost capped the mountains which severed horizon, completing the postcard perfect setting of a Leap Year afternoon.

John sat on a bench, sipped his coffee, and watched a parade of people he had never seen before and would never see again.  An enormous man losing his leash, and the chihuahua attached, brought a quiet smile to his lips, and the angry mother grabbing her toddler with enough force to purple the arm, caused him to wince, but it was the couple he spied on the other side of the pond who brought a full smile to his long face.

They were old and beautiful, weaving their fingers together so carelessly, they must have been doing it nearly all their lives.  They sat with long silences punctuated by an occasional exchange of nearly silent words, often chased by quiet fits of laughter.  John wondered what it must be like to share so much with someone for so long.  He had no true frame of reference; no memory of grandparents.  His own mom and dad split before he finished elementary school and John’s own relationships seemed to have a shelf life of no longer than two years.

It had been a consistent article of faith that one day he would fall in step with the right girl and the perfect life would find him; his own happily ever after, forever around the next corner.  John had celebrated his fortieth birthday with a one night stand, and what had been a given for two decades now felt like a dimming dream circling the drain.  Perhaps it was time to rethink his approach.

John was good looking, beautiful even.  Though he was not vain, or in any way conceited, he could not be told something his entire life and remain clueless to the fact.  Despite knowledge of his handsome face, flawless skin, and brilliant blue eyes, John carried a crippling shyness when it came to meeting new people, worse when it came to the opposite sex.  Women approached him regularly, and whether out of loneliness or optimism, he often accepted their somewhat obvious invitations.  More often than not, these women were sure in their charms and used to having their way.  John tired of them quickly.

A good relationship, he believed, was like anything else – you could not just expect it to be quietly handed over.   Perhaps he needed to start doing some of the asking.

John swallowed the last sip of coffee, dropped the empty cup in the can, and started the walk back to his car.

Writer Dad

I’m a writer, but not just for SEO. I can write any type of content from blog posts to wedding vows. I live in Long Beach, but I Ghostwrite around the world.

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