Rhyne
He said that It all starts with holding hands. What was It? I didn’t understand at first. Surely, what wrong could there be in holding one’s hands? Is it evil? Does it burn?
We walked towards home, passing through an untrodden bridge – Derek and I. Nobody goes through that bridge. I wonder why, because it is a beautiful bridge…
We could’ve taken the jeepney, but we chose to walk… just to stretch time, though Time itself was in a hurry.
While we were passing through that untrodden bridge, a street dweller leaped in front of me. I jumped in surprise, for he came out of nowhere. My hand accidentally brushed Derek’s hand. What a sensation! Are humans capable of emitting electricity? I wonder. That momentary contact certainly caused frissons. It felt like awakening for the first time.
Brushing progressed. Our fingers intertwined… for protection, lest the street dweller do something; interlocked… when the street dweller had gone and left Derek and I to ourselves; intermeshed… when our hands knew that they positively belonged there.
Then feeling faded.
Warmth stifled; it needed to disperse.
I got used to the warmth of his hand. The other parts of me that were cold, suddenly needed warmth like so. Hence, he touched my arm and slowly… slowly, we meshed in an embrace. Lightly at first, then tightly…
I lifted my head and searched for his eyes. There was a different kind of sparkle there.
The darkness of the night enveloped us and it seemed to pull us closer together. I was drawn nearer to him – did he pull me closer or did I lean in? There was left to us no other choice but to proceed…
My lips touched his lips – pillowy and sweet. His breath mingled with mine and it seemed to warm me all over…
I’ve only read about kisses. They say it feels so good… it is electrifying, especially when it happens under the moon and stars. It is pure and liberating when it is done with someone you love. It is delicious like cinnamon and brown sugar if heart and soul are put in it… It is in its best if the other cares to give you only the best.
Words, powerful as they are indeed, are not enough to describe the real thing.
Shedding all the remaining reserve, I said, “Kiss me again; kiss me more!”
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Cari's Vignettes
Short StoryA collection of impressions on just about anything and stories told in a certain manner... love, anger, secrets, people, subjects, objects... you name it. There are certain things that can only be expressed through unrestrained writing. A vignette o...
