39 Days

By _jazzmin_

420 40 0

I call this a beautiful journey of my lifeless existence. I don't know what's happening, but I seem to be liv... More

Eye Sight
Fresh Fruit
Going Home
Sparks
Home
Field
Princess
First Kiss
Last Kiss
Tears
Into The Night
Last Time
Day One
Day Two
Reality Check
Day Three
Open Eyes
Day Four
The Day Has Come
Just Breathe
Numb
Coming Back
The Possibilities
He's Coming Back
What Happens Next?
White Dress
Color
Change
Golden
Hidden Truth
Dream
Asking for Answers
I Realize
Distance
Anticipation
Anticipation Peaks
One More Chance
The Last Day

Melon

18 1 0
By _jazzmin_

I'm still here, laying, I still hear beeps, monitors maybe. I'm not sure, but I hear mumbling, but my thoughts drown out the talking.
...
"You know one day I won't be able to carry all of this for you, right?" Ian asked; he struggled in doing so as he continued to help gather my daily produce. It was way too muddy to use a wagon, and his truck wasn't running.

"I'm aware of that Ian," I glanced, "you seem to be doing a fine job for now, though, what else should a poor little girl like me do?"

He laughed and set down his things frantically, seeming almost excited that I asked. Before we headed to my home only a short ways away, I noticed him in the shed. I heard shuffling, tumbling, and things falling all over. He came out with his blonde locks in a mess, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay Ian, what are you doing?" I stood hesitantly. Watching him closely, he rolls up the sleeves of his faded flannel and pulls his hair back and away from his face. He was quiet, almost too quiet, and made his way over to me with what seems to just be a basket.

"You set this in your hands," he says, handing it to me, "see how it just sits there in your hand with that thing called the handle? Yeah. You can carry your watermelon now."

He was being smart with me, but he smiled at me the way he always does when he looks at me. A little quirky, but cute. With a grunt and a lift the watermelon was soon in the basket in my hands. So heavy it almost took me down. He stood by me, resting his hand around my hip, still smiling at me, sarcastically of course.

"Look. You just had to use your little melon to figure out how to carry the melons."

"Okay Ian I know that, very funny," I said with a straight face.

He stepped back, and jokingly put his hands on his own hips, "Wow, you're pretty sassy, Melon."

I shoved the heavy basket into his hands. He was really trying to push my buttons, and it was working.

"You did not just call me melon," I turn to him and cross my arms, showing my disapproval of such a crazy name. He came up to me, gently moving my disheveled curls from my face, and kissed me on the cheek as if that would make up for his annoying shenanigans.

"Yes I did, now after you Melon, so we can get your stuff home."
...

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