Thursday, November 17, 2011

Tim and June, Part 1

Auth. note:  Because you probably know I just got out of the hospital today I'm going to say this:  Yes, I was under the influence of powerful painkillers when I wrote this. But it is supposed to be bad! OK? I'm in on the joke.

His eyes moistened like wet towelettes as she rushed through the gate, down the breezeway, and onto the great steel bird.  His heart flipped in his throat, which itself ached, like the rest of his body, which longed, nay yearned, for her return.  She was glorious; she was gone. 

The first time Tim saw June he was smitten.  He was in line at Starbucks when he saw her, the barista behind the counter.  The person in front of the women in front of him ordered one of those absurd drinks everyone makes fun of:  a half caf, triple sau cow, skim, mocha latte or some damn thing.  Tim immediately went about hating the orderer of the drink, naturally, but was amazed when June tore into the task of making it without hesitation. The sunlight streaked through the window like a frat guy at a halftime show and made little angels appear in June’s blonde hair as she worked. She breezed through the crazy lady’s drink, made the woman in front of him her Christian latte and there he was…in the front of the line, facing June and her hair angels. 

She looked up at him and spoke, “Can I…uh, hi, can I, umm…” she was speechless in front of him.  ‘Twas love at first sight for her and love at first hearing for him, for as soon as she spoke, Tim heard not her voice but a world-class choir singing a beautiful song, and fell madly in love.

“You may,” Tim said in order to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Oh, ha ha! I’m sorry!” June giggled.
“No problem.  I think you’re quite attractive.”
“Oh? Oh! That’s great! Would you like to get a soda sometime? I hate coffee.” June asked.
“I imagine so. Yeah, uh, yes that would be great. When?” Tim responded.
“How about now?  I hate this job anyway.” And June untied her apron giving Tim no way to say no.
“Sure,” is what he said.

And so the pair of soon-to-be lovebirds headed off west, into the sunset, towards the soda fountain.  In so doing, Tim realized the symbolism of walking into the sunset and understood that most of the time when people did that in books and movies it was implied that they were going to spend the rest of their days happily together; he hoped that would be the case with June and him.


  1. OMG this is great. Keep writing, cant wait to come back see what I find. Thank you. Tracy

  2. thank you, Tracy. How did you find me?

  3. That's supposed to be BAD? True, the streaking frat guy was a bit off, but the rest was pain-killer free. Or maybe you're just best on pain-killers. I know I am.;)

    Glad you're out of the hospital. I haven't been keeping up with you. I hope you're ok. Come up and see me sometime...

  4. Personally, I thought it was terrible. But in a good way. Just like you were intending.

  5. You are certifiably sweet. You had me at "moistened." xo