You have entered the realm of a writer.

Welcome to A Writer's Landscape!

You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Thank You Chad

"Tell me a story"

And all I can think is Oh dear lord, a story? He's sitting across from me, staring with a half amused, half expectant smile in his eyes. And as a wanna-be professional story-teller, I should be able to come up with something intriguing, meaningful, beautiful. Alas, the white wall of disparity slammed against my already flustered mind. He knows I've drawn a blank, and not because I have nothing to say either.

I begin half-heartedly. "It was last Saturday, clearly dislocated from any other day of the week simply by the warmth much desired by the unfortunate individuals caught in the cold-front that already claimed a fortnight."

He lifts his drink and takes a careless sip, clearly amused by the reality of my words.

"Night was arriving quickly, sun having set behind the mountains, clouds already amassing over their peaks, and the first hint of stars glinting through the crocus purple already invading the sky from the east. They sat there staring at Jupiter, by far the brightest spec left to the twilit evening. On the hilltop outside the city, Cyndi and Alexi sat on the cold boulders decoratively placed near the sign indicating the distance to the nearest college."

My story, the one he so randomly asked for, comes easier the more I create, and the characters had already formed themselves in my mind by the time I had their names. I say, "But their minds are far away from learning anything new; nothing about themselves, their partner, their life, nor of the world around them. All Alexi and Cyndi wanted was quiet, peace, on a road infrequently traveled.

"'What do you think? Is it something you might consider?' Cyndi asks him, her eyes still gazing at the king of the planets. 'We wouldn't have to tell anybody.'

"Alexi looked down at the road ahead of them, feeling the cold which crept over the open fields. 'That doesn't seem fair to "anybody."' He shook his head. 'I would have to tell my family at least. They have the right to know where we're going.'

"Cyndi looked down the road. 'That seems fair.'"

He takes another sip of his drink. The smile has gone from his face as he sees the woven message I'm laying down.

"Alexi stood suddenly, ready to walk back to their car to continue the conversation in the warmth and protection that lingers in the enclosed spaces that capture the rays of light. 'But yes, I will go with you. We'll experience much. We'll travel far... We'll learn more than we care to learn about each other and the others that will see us together.' He smiled, and Cyndi felt its joy even though Alexi was facing away from her.

"The road they watched ran quietly into the east, no lights came that direction and they both knew their tale-lights would be the only things traveling that direction; past the college and through the plains until the mountains grew around them or the sea impeded their way. And just then, as they both silently watched the stars brighten on the eastern horizon and the full moon rising slowly, they knew they wouldn't speak of such trials until they reached those destinations. And perhaps even then, they would simply deny the truth staring at them so blatantly in the face.

"Cyndi stood and walked to the car ahead of Alexi, opening the driver's down and sitting down as she waited for him to join her. Her wait was short lived, and off they went into the hopes for a new beginning, not knowing how they would end up, or where they might be."

I finish with a little smile at the corner of my mouth. "Thanks for making me do that."

"Of course," he says with his self-assured smile, head tilting to cover most of his eyes under the bill of his hat in that mischievous manner he employs so well.

We sit there for another hour or so, allowing everything to pass between us even without the words supposedly required for understanding. The conversations remain meaningless and shallow, but something akin to friendship forms.

1 comment:

  1. Josheleh, (it's Yiddish. look it up - it means "my dear Josh") (Okay, I completely made that up, but doesn't it sound good??)

    Anyway . . .

    You're so smart and clever and you write so purdy! I think it's in everyone's best interest if we are new best friends!

    By the way. . . do you sleep? Like, ever? How can someone write SO MUCH and SO FAST?