The Pen

“Would you like to write with me?” he proposed softly, offering his hand to her. 
.
His eyes were a gentle, cerulean green, evident in his pupils. Chris had never done this before – it was his first time doing this.
.
Her own eyes, dull blue and not at all amazing (yet, it was different, and she often found comfort in that fact), lit up at the prospect. A smile tugged at the edge of her lips, placing her hands in his in a gesture of acceptance. “Charming. I’d love to.”
.
Never have I done something like this, Brianna mused. And new things always excite me.
.
Chris grinned, paying the bill for the dinner. He arose, escorting her out of the restaurant. He was doubtful whether or not the night would allow them to paint words across the sky at all, it being gloomy and forebearing with darkness. He was quite carefree otherwise, a little skip in his chest. 
.
“Have you..ever painted words?”
.
The smile on Brianna’s face grew, more amused than anything. It seemed that tonight, she’d struck lucky and found quite a catch. Chris was humourous, and a little quirky if anything, but it guaranteed a permanent goodbye to boredom. However, she found sometimes, his words struck her, rendering her dumbfounded. This was a perfect example of that.
.
“Painting words,” she parroted, humming in thought. “Now, how do you do that?”
.
He eyed her quizzically, as though the question wasn’t posed. His eyebrows frowned in thought as he tried to explain to her what he meant. Perhaps it was too ludicrous, the way he put the enquiry forward.
.
“I…well…you experience it with your senses, I guess.”
.
“I don’t think I seem to understand, darlin’,” Brianna murmured, silently contemplating. Perhaps she had missed something? Painting words was a foreign subject to her; painting pictures and writing words, sure, she could understand. She was an Art graduate, afterall. Perhaps this was what her teacher had meant when he’d told her off for being too close-minded, that she couldn’t seem to understand things she wasn’t used to.
.
But that was alright, wasn’t it? Chris would help her, wouldn’t he? 
.
He led her silently into the park. It was dimly lit, perfect for a long stroll in the night. He wanted her to feel every single thing. Sense it completely. Yes, he would guide her through it. 
.
“Listen…as the cool breeze whisper softly into your ears, passing a message from the past.” he quipped calmly, the cold air breathing down his neck.
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She closed her eyes, feeling that perhaps without her sense of sight, she’d be able to feel it better. The breeze was gentle on her face, blowing softly, cooling. Even though there was darkness, Brianna could still envision the park in whole, the tall trees clustering around them in a gorgeous pathway, the heavy scent of flowers mixing together in an aroma that was not necessarily unpleasant, the lamp post that was the target of oh so many dogs for business. And yet-
.
And yet, she couldn’t seem to feel any message from the past as Chris had described, nor any painted words. In dismay, her eyes fluttered open and she grimaced.”I’m not meant for this.”
.
“The past has no message. It only brings memories.” he smiled, patting her shoulders. 
.
“You exprienced everything else, without the sense of sight. That, is a wonderful thing.”
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“I feel like I’ve failed,” Brianna said. “And yet..” 
.
“And yet?”
.
“You make me feel like I haven’t.”
.
“That’s because you haven’t. It’s usually difficult at first…”

 

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About haziqfoxayy

Full time student. Part time wandering fox and storyteller.
This entry was posted in Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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