The Breeze

(Guest Post by Craig Daniels)

The breeze found me, delivering Ellen's scent, then continued on its way.

I sat smiling, recognition touching memories, like a child flicking a light switch my feelings rapidly alternated between warmth and chills of excitement.

Out the corner of my eye I could see Ellen's car turn through the gates, roll its way along the winding drive and come to a stop under the Butternut, just shy of the old brick walkway.

Putting down the spiral notebook I had been writing in, I turned my full gaze, my full attention toward Ellen's car, and waited for her to emerge. Often she would spend a few minutes between scenes, allowing frets to drop away, letting one moment pass before engaging the next. Now in the drivers seat, Ellen sat staring straight ahead, hands lightly caressing the steering wheel, seatbelt still in place, gathering the moment.

The car door opened, blue heels touched gravel, pausing for a second, then she stood and faced the window of my study, smiling broadly scrunching her nose while pushing her hair off her shoulder. Her movements were beautiful, colored with mindfulness, deliberate yet spontaneous. Silently I watched her retrieve the shopping bags and head toward the bright cardinal red front door. With a turn of the brass handle she came swooping in, bags in each hand.

I was halfway down the stairs when Ellen zoomed passed, quickly turned in a circle shopping bags extended like a windmill and said, “follow me.” Without a thought I followed, heading into the kitchen.

Ellen set down two huge shopping bags across the dark black granite counter, and busily pulled items from the bags till the counter became hidden in treasures. I watched her closely, she grabbed the first treasure while looking at me, and with animated abandon delivered her pitch pausing just long enough to catch her breath, and to kiss me on the cheek. Ellen gave each item its due then moved on to the next, her hands wrapping and unwrapping, her voice rising at the right place to reel me for the sale.

Her excitement stopped abruptly, she reached for my hand pulling me to the floor and at the same time exploded in laughter. She laughed until tears streamed from her hazel eyes mumbling apologizes for her devolving into a sales pitch. “Forgive me, will you?” she asked in a newly serious tone then broke out laughing once again.

I loved her realization, her laugh and I loved her. We stayed on the floor with legs entwined, listening deeply to the other, long after twilight had turned the room dark.

The breeze returned with the scent of rain and solitude, the world disappeared, leaving just us.

by Craig Daniels - flash fiction on the web