(no subject)
He waited at the door silently, unsure whether he should enter or turn away while he still had the chance. The doorway he stared at was huge. It stood atlas 9 feet tall, and 4 feet across, it seemed unnessecarily large. He simply couldn’t understand why a door so large was needed, the opening was shielded by a solid, thick piece of dull steal. She has tried to phone him, she knew he was back in town and she doubted that his two year absence would have any any effect on them. This is why he stood at the door now.
In his mind she has not changed or aged. He could see her thick brunette hair just barely touching her shoulders with it’s light curl. He knew where all the freckled lay across her immaculate, but always tired, face. And he knew the hazel of her eyes. He knew that on occasion, in the right light her eyes looked a stunning crystal clear green. Her complexion was always fair, he thought to himself.
The heavy set gray haired woman, who sat heavily in her padded chair behind the desk across from him, stared as he contemplated whether to enter or leave. He was shifting lighting from one foot to another. His head was heavy with thought.
“Two years is a very long time.” he said quietly to himself. He had found no one new, and he was sure the same held true for her. He stared down at his feet, looking seriously into the cracks that formed valleys in the faded brown leather of his shoes. As he shifted from one foot over to the other, the valleys grew and shrank back down to their original size. He continued to lightly rock.
The room was only dimly lit. A window to his left let in little light, most of it hid behind the winter’s thick and solid layer of clouds that hung low in the sky. Just enough light fell through the window to cast the shadows of the five chairs place in a row against the wall against the dark linoleum tiles. The woman behind the desk continued to stare as he pulled his dry, wrinkled, overworked hands through the thick wavy hair that laid lifelessly atop his head. His mind still reeling with thoughts. Two year he thought, he added in his head.
“Seven hundred and thirty days.” he murmured out loud. He was startled b the woman still sitting idle behind the mass of the desk.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” he replied quietly.
“You may go ahead and enter if you want.”
“I’m sure I’d like to yet.”
“Visiting hours will end soon.”
“I can come back tomorrow.”
And the young man took a deep breath, hoping to bring air to his lungs which now felt like they had filled with concrete.
“Two years is such a terribly long time. Plenty of time to change.” He said as he carefully picked up his coat and wrapped a dark scarf around his neck.
Two years, he thought. Turning to the other door, across the room, he glanced back at the door and then the plump woman still posturing casually behind the desk.
In his mind she has not changed or aged. He could see her thick brunette hair just barely touching her shoulders with it’s light curl. He knew where all the freckled lay across her immaculate, but always tired, face. And he knew the hazel of her eyes. He knew that on occasion, in the right light her eyes looked a stunning crystal clear green. Her complexion was always fair, he thought to himself.
The heavy set gray haired woman, who sat heavily in her padded chair behind the desk across from him, stared as he contemplated whether to enter or leave. He was shifting lighting from one foot to another. His head was heavy with thought.
“Two years is a very long time.” he said quietly to himself. He had found no one new, and he was sure the same held true for her. He stared down at his feet, looking seriously into the cracks that formed valleys in the faded brown leather of his shoes. As he shifted from one foot over to the other, the valleys grew and shrank back down to their original size. He continued to lightly rock.
The room was only dimly lit. A window to his left let in little light, most of it hid behind the winter’s thick and solid layer of clouds that hung low in the sky. Just enough light fell through the window to cast the shadows of the five chairs place in a row against the wall against the dark linoleum tiles. The woman behind the desk continued to stare as he pulled his dry, wrinkled, overworked hands through the thick wavy hair that laid lifelessly atop his head. His mind still reeling with thoughts. Two year he thought, he added in his head.
“Seven hundred and thirty days.” he murmured out loud. He was startled b the woman still sitting idle behind the mass of the desk.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” he replied quietly.
“You may go ahead and enter if you want.”
“I’m sure I’d like to yet.”
“Visiting hours will end soon.”
“I can come back tomorrow.”
And the young man took a deep breath, hoping to bring air to his lungs which now felt like they had filled with concrete.
“Two years is such a terribly long time. Plenty of time to change.” He said as he carefully picked up his coat and wrapped a dark scarf around his neck.
Two years, he thought. Turning to the other door, across the room, he glanced back at the door and then the plump woman still posturing casually behind the desk.