She pulls the door shut behind him and remains two breaths to stand until the finality that the clicking of the rusty castle evokes, is faded.
The key is quite warm from the pressure of her fingers. She puts it in a plain white envelope, moistens the adhesive surface of the tongue tip and pressed it with both hands. The envelope, slides into the mailbox and she walks down the worn steps of the wooden stairs. The sound of her heels breaks the silence of the staircase as first scattered drops of a downpour. Your palms will emphasize slightly over the railing and remove every scratch, every bump perceive it.
on the street makes her dirty white cold face. She closes her eyes. Henry will not understand, but it is the only way. It is her way and she must go alone.
lets her hands on the outside wall of the tenement walk scabbed. Your fingers begin to ache. You forgot to bring gloves. A smile makes in her neck wide and pushed for a moment the thick Klos, who has inhibited them to breathe free.
Henry runs. His breath breaks through the wall in cold clouds. Intermittently and heavy. While moving his feet, they seem to be stuck.
The city around him, fluttering rapidly. A silver sedan with the insane speed to turn the corner. Traffic lights that change color every second. And people whose bodies dissolve right next to him to be in the same moment, a hundred yards to materialize before him.
Why was he just fell asleep again. Angry tears running down his face and form icicles on his nose. Hot sweat trickles him down to the spine. His fingernails dug deep into his palms and he is a growl as he could to defeat his slowness to flight.
The letter weighs tons of heavy in his jacket pocket. Crumpled the paper between his fingers, he tried to squeeze her whereabouts. No! That would not be the end. Not now and not in this way.
He concentrates. Close your eyes and concentrate only on breathing, on his heartbeat. Only the vital body functions.
He would make time! He has still managed on time. So where is she? He holds his face in the bitter cold and hides all thoughts. He tries to sensing. And suddenly everything is clear.
It goes quickly but not too fast. Determined she directs her steps down the main street, where the uniform blocks of flats, with the blunt by windows.
A few kids hanging around in a doorway and smoke. The smoldering cigarette in the palm of his hand hidden. The shoulders hunched, heads down, stare at her defiance in the face. Her dark jackets merge with the gray facades, as if they were one with them.
The pedestrian traffic light at the intersection turns green and she hurries to get over in time. Already
around the next corner you can see the contours of the old railway bridge. Clear edged structures that emphasize behind light fog. She likes no-frills architecture. She radiates something hearty fare. Security.
ice crystals have settled on the steel girders and glisten in the light of the setting sun. Fairy dust. Used to be desired.
A figure approaches her. She walks slow, comes forth clouds of smoke between the cap and scarf. On a leash, she performs a limp sausage dog, the more it drags behind him as he runs himself. Jessica
changes sides and stroll past her without a word, waiting until the two are out of sight and pulls himself up from the parapet. They ignored the burning in their palms and rises across. The water is deep black. Hardly recognizable. Only occasionally breaks the sparkle uniform.
city noises penetrate into his consciousness. Engine noise. Scattered votes. And the reality is back to normal pace.
Henry begins to move. Snow burst splinter under his feet and be scattered at his heels. He bumps into a boy in an olive green army jacket, who stumbles out of a dark doorway, and pushes him against the wall of the apartment building. Crude curses following him until he comes around the next corner.
He ignored frantic honking, the pedestrian light when he crosses in red. Slips out and starts off on the hood of a brown van, whose driver he clenched behind the front wheel against his right fist and simultaneously with the left index finger to his forehead taps, when he tried to carve a third eye.
Only a corner and he sees it. Your body stands out from the shimmering outline. It did not move. Only her hair buzzing excitedly about their dark red winter jacket. Her gaze is directed at the sky, as they observe something there.
Only a few steps. "Jessica!" He smashes her name into the night. And she turns her head in his direction. A blast freezes the sweat on his forehead to frost and drives him goose bumps on arms and neck, braces himself against his steps and force from him.
Jessica looks at him. She smiles? It almost seems as if they had been expecting him. As if she had only been waiting for him before they are released.
He has no choice. He jumps. With a mighty leap, he dives over the railing and grabs her arms, she has raised high above his head, and gets to take one of her hands. The zipper open their parkas and punches him in the face by the frozen skin of his cheek to burst. He holds her hand tightly in his. His whole life.
standstill. Pain. Cold. Breathless cold and then nothing. He looks into her eyes. Green ponds. In oxygen, but not lifeless. He has lost contact with the rowing desperately poor and they take no more. Her lips form words. Her hair is driving to her face, such as reed grass that sways in a warm summer breeze. He shouts her name. Walking to his lungs burst.
© Simone wedge
2009 Read more -> Dream Catcher - Two
