Category : Stories

Sub Category : Drama

"Speak to me", she said, her tone soft and kind but with the sound of a caring mother and friend who needed it to be known she meant business. That's the thing about us, our sugar coating stops with what goes in our mouths and ends where what comes out. We all agreed, of course, every message should come with a tone, a volume, a pitch and attempt at sound over just words; but sugar coating, to us at least, is lying. It's putting the darkest acrylic one can find over the truth, waiting for it to dry and then throwing splotches of colorful paint on top of the dark. We do dark, we can handle dark... We've faced it, therefore we cannot do lies. "But", he stammered, "it's the never ending record, the same conversation piece". She clasped his shaking hand with hers. Looking around, her long beautifully wavy and curly hair down, his favorite - the way the waves cascaded along her cheeks and fell on her shoulders. He couldn't explain it, but with her alone her hair down embodied not just relaxation and calm but melody, a rhythm. "You know how you enjoy watching movies you like more than once?" she asked. "Yes" he replied unsure but thinking he knew where she was going. "Why? Because they're good? Sure. They make you feel good? Got it. But there's another reason isn't there? Tell me". He shifted his weight, her eyes magnetic and set on him. "Because of what I've missed. And it's not with all of them.. But the serious ones, the ones I relate to most. There's always something I didn't see the first or second time arou-". He understood. No matter how many times he played this record she'd listen and advise, every time sensing or hearing what they'd both missed before. "I love you", he cried. "And I you". Taking a drag off her smoke and gently firming her hand on his she smiled. "Now, tell me".