Yeah... I forgot where I used to post my stories, but this is a new one. It might make for an interesting read.
The sky was crimson, the sun gently setting behind the second dune. Leonard stared at, with a smug look of disbelief on his face. The sand blew gently in the wind and him took his free hand to shield himself from the tiny grains that would no doubt blind him without remorse, given the chance.
He reflected back on one other time he saw a sunset like this. He was three at his grandfather's house, a cold cup of iced lemonade sitting on the table next to the porch swing. The eve of the porch, while shielding Gramps' eyes, did nothing for young Leonard, and he stared at the sun in all of it's majesty.
The lemonade stand he had made the next year did fairly well, with all the neighbors coming out and donating quarters, even if they didn't get a cup. Leonard took the money and spent it on a bicycle helmet so he could ride on the main road without his mother worrying so.
But he did have an accident. He flipped over his handlebars, and if it weren't for his helmet, he would have gone into a coma, and eventually died. Leonard never took to the bike again, and became slightly agoraphobic.
For the next ten years, Leonard left the house on errands, to the grocery or video store, but never on road trips. His lungs would tighten with anxiety, and he would pass out if he got too far from home. The doctor that he went to said that he should have a gradual transition to the outdoors, and that within the year, he should move into his own house.
The move was painful, the boxes heavy. One knows not how much they clutter until it is all stacked in boxes ready to move. It had taken just the day, but Leonard hated the outdoors. The sun crisped his skin in the heat and he was sore for the next few days.
His new house was in a busy part of town, where car horns blowing was a regular ambient noise. It was at the restaurant down the street that Leonard would meet his wife. The first time he laid eyes on her, she smiled at him. And the first time he hugged her, she smelled of roses. When he proposed, her eyes brimmed with tears and his heart stopped when he thought she would say no.
But she didn't.
He remembered the smell of the doctor's office when he was there with his Ambellina. This was the second time he ever saw her cry, when the doctor confirmed that she could not give birth and live. It killed them both a little that day.
The adoption agency smelled of talc, the odor stinging his nostrils the first time, but on the subsequent visits it subsided. The day he and Ambellina adopted Benji he didn't smell the talc at all.
When Leonard hit forty, Benji was ten. Leonard told him the cautionary tale of the bicycle helmet, and Benji adhered religiously, never wavering for an instant. Nor did he ever crash.
Benji grew distant, and the day he moved out was exactly two years ago. Leonard was forty eight. Benji, the young naive age of eighteen. But, Leonard remembered thinking, "This is the first time the house has been quiet in twelve years."
Last year, Leonard and Ambellina decided to move to the beach, and settle down in a house that overlooked the Atlantic. Virginia beach seemed like a good of a place as any, and the real estate agent seemed more than happy to help them into a home.
After six months of stringent repairs, it was up to code and it was livable.
Six months later, Leonard had a healthy tan, and Ambellina was well on her way to mastering the art of the sea food chef. Lobster Alfredo, that's what Leonard had tonight.
The moon was beginning to peak its face out from behind the ocean as Leonard snapped back to reality. He wasn't sad as the last wave washed over him, but disappointed. Death wasn't peaceful... it just felt like death.
Mal
The sky was crimson, the sun gently setting behind the second dune. Leonard stared at, with a smug look of disbelief on his face. The sand blew gently in the wind and him took his free hand to shield himself from the tiny grains that would no doubt blind him without remorse, given the chance.
He reflected back on one other time he saw a sunset like this. He was three at his grandfather's house, a cold cup of iced lemonade sitting on the table next to the porch swing. The eve of the porch, while shielding Gramps' eyes, did nothing for young Leonard, and he stared at the sun in all of it's majesty.
The lemonade stand he had made the next year did fairly well, with all the neighbors coming out and donating quarters, even if they didn't get a cup. Leonard took the money and spent it on a bicycle helmet so he could ride on the main road without his mother worrying so.
But he did have an accident. He flipped over his handlebars, and if it weren't for his helmet, he would have gone into a coma, and eventually died. Leonard never took to the bike again, and became slightly agoraphobic.
For the next ten years, Leonard left the house on errands, to the grocery or video store, but never on road trips. His lungs would tighten with anxiety, and he would pass out if he got too far from home. The doctor that he went to said that he should have a gradual transition to the outdoors, and that within the year, he should move into his own house.
The move was painful, the boxes heavy. One knows not how much they clutter until it is all stacked in boxes ready to move. It had taken just the day, but Leonard hated the outdoors. The sun crisped his skin in the heat and he was sore for the next few days.
His new house was in a busy part of town, where car horns blowing was a regular ambient noise. It was at the restaurant down the street that Leonard would meet his wife. The first time he laid eyes on her, she smiled at him. And the first time he hugged her, she smelled of roses. When he proposed, her eyes brimmed with tears and his heart stopped when he thought she would say no.
But she didn't.
He remembered the smell of the doctor's office when he was there with his Ambellina. This was the second time he ever saw her cry, when the doctor confirmed that she could not give birth and live. It killed them both a little that day.
The adoption agency smelled of talc, the odor stinging his nostrils the first time, but on the subsequent visits it subsided. The day he and Ambellina adopted Benji he didn't smell the talc at all.
When Leonard hit forty, Benji was ten. Leonard told him the cautionary tale of the bicycle helmet, and Benji adhered religiously, never wavering for an instant. Nor did he ever crash.
Benji grew distant, and the day he moved out was exactly two years ago. Leonard was forty eight. Benji, the young naive age of eighteen. But, Leonard remembered thinking, "This is the first time the house has been quiet in twelve years."
Last year, Leonard and Ambellina decided to move to the beach, and settle down in a house that overlooked the Atlantic. Virginia beach seemed like a good of a place as any, and the real estate agent seemed more than happy to help them into a home.
After six months of stringent repairs, it was up to code and it was livable.
Six months later, Leonard had a healthy tan, and Ambellina was well on her way to mastering the art of the sea food chef. Lobster Alfredo, that's what Leonard had tonight.
The moon was beginning to peak its face out from behind the ocean as Leonard snapped back to reality. He wasn't sad as the last wave washed over him, but disappointed. Death wasn't peaceful... it just felt like death.
Mal
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