her love affair...
She was notoriously picky about her lovers. She had it in her mind how love would look, feel and react to her touch. It was midafternoon; she had told her husband she was going out to 'read' for an hour or so. She stopped off at the bank and deposited her rent check, wondering still about her most recent expense. So much more than she could afford... but that had never really stopped her in her pursuit of lovers before... this one however? She truly had her doubts about - couldn't stop fussing about it in her mind. She needed stillness to process; she needed the water.
She drove a bit farther; the Sound was so close now she could feel its hum making her blood pulse with the need only a true aquaphile would understand. She pulled the car up to the edge of the parking lot. The front tires of her Saturn Vue not 50 feet from the water. Tide was low, but the birds still flew and the salt smell was all the stronger to her nose. She opened her windows, felt the sun on her face and remembered to breathe. She pushed her chair all the way back, making lots of legroom. She contemplated getting out of her car, but the chair was comfortable and there really was no better view at the park. Only the occasional dog walker would disturb her; it was still winter and there was no kite flying on the island to happen. The ferry to the jetty, world renown for its winds, lack of wires and general 'perfect kite flying conditions', would not start running until the end of May. The wind caught her hair. She put in the Red Rock Live: Moody Blues CD, hit play and turned the knob so the sound was just above hearing threshold.
She wasn't sure exactly when she fell in love. She took the device out of the cover she had made for it. Turned it on and instantly the clearly defined letters popped up in front of her. She clicked on the menu and selected a short novella by Steven King titled “UR”. The orchestral music of the Moody Blues drifted into her ears. It was a perfect background for the novel. She held her coffee in one hand, propped the device against the steering wheel and clicked the 'next page' button with her left thumb. It took about three pages turning to find her groove - oddly it wasn't awkward at all. Page 1: click. Page 20: click. Page 45: click. Thirty minutes passed. Then thirty minutes more. To her dismay the novella was OVER. She had hit the “next page” button only to realize there were no more clicks to be had! She smiled; it reached her eyes, touched her spirit and she laughed out loud. At some point the coffee had been finished, the Starbucks coffee travel cup (filled with her own odd, mocha-like concoction) had been stuffed into the coffee cup holder of her car and the CD was on song number 12. The device had never gotten in the way - nor had it ever left her hand. At one point her right hand had become cold and she had tucked it into her pocket, left thumb still clicking away at the pages...
God she loved a good novel! She loved the ride, she loved the feel of following the story of the characters' the 'friendship' she made with them when the author does the job correctly. She loved authors that made you fall in love, aching for more when the novel was finished. Perhaps that was the real moment she knew she was in love. There would be no sending it back. No quibbling about this button or that lacking feature. It did what it was designed to do: it delivered a novel that lost none of the elements that makes a novel great and added a convenience that now experienced? Would not be willingly parted with...
She was happy. It had taken a while to accept her new love, but it had happened. She tucked her Kindle back into its green leather case, set it down on the seat next to her, started the car, took one last look out at the water and put up the windows. As she drove for home she knew it had been worth the cost. She realized she was over worrying about all the things her Kindle wasn't, and could finally appreciate all the wonderful things it was.
She drove a bit farther; the Sound was so close now she could feel its hum making her blood pulse with the need only a true aquaphile would understand. She pulled the car up to the edge of the parking lot. The front tires of her Saturn Vue not 50 feet from the water. Tide was low, but the birds still flew and the salt smell was all the stronger to her nose. She opened her windows, felt the sun on her face and remembered to breathe. She pushed her chair all the way back, making lots of legroom. She contemplated getting out of her car, but the chair was comfortable and there really was no better view at the park. Only the occasional dog walker would disturb her; it was still winter and there was no kite flying on the island to happen. The ferry to the jetty, world renown for its winds, lack of wires and general 'perfect kite flying conditions', would not start running until the end of May. The wind caught her hair. She put in the Red Rock Live: Moody Blues CD, hit play and turned the knob so the sound was just above hearing threshold.
She wasn't sure exactly when she fell in love. She took the device out of the cover she had made for it. Turned it on and instantly the clearly defined letters popped up in front of her. She clicked on the menu and selected a short novella by Steven King titled “UR”. The orchestral music of the Moody Blues drifted into her ears. It was a perfect background for the novel. She held her coffee in one hand, propped the device against the steering wheel and clicked the 'next page' button with her left thumb. It took about three pages turning to find her groove - oddly it wasn't awkward at all. Page 1: click. Page 20: click. Page 45: click. Thirty minutes passed. Then thirty minutes more. To her dismay the novella was OVER. She had hit the “next page” button only to realize there were no more clicks to be had! She smiled; it reached her eyes, touched her spirit and she laughed out loud. At some point the coffee had been finished, the Starbucks coffee travel cup (filled with her own odd, mocha-like concoction) had been stuffed into the coffee cup holder of her car and the CD was on song number 12. The device had never gotten in the way - nor had it ever left her hand. At one point her right hand had become cold and she had tucked it into her pocket, left thumb still clicking away at the pages...
God she loved a good novel! She loved the ride, she loved the feel of following the story of the characters' the 'friendship' she made with them when the author does the job correctly. She loved authors that made you fall in love, aching for more when the novel was finished. Perhaps that was the real moment she knew she was in love. There would be no sending it back. No quibbling about this button or that lacking feature. It did what it was designed to do: it delivered a novel that lost none of the elements that makes a novel great and added a convenience that now experienced? Would not be willingly parted with...
She was happy. It had taken a while to accept her new love, but it had happened. She tucked her Kindle back into its green leather case, set it down on the seat next to her, started the car, took one last look out at the water and put up the windows. As she drove for home she knew it had been worth the cost. She realized she was over worrying about all the things her Kindle wasn't, and could finally appreciate all the wonderful things it was.