Starry Night

My first completed short (real short) story. It's hard to call this one a romance as I feel it may be more introspective than the average romance piece (and I do love romance ;). Anyhow, enjoy.

  She'd always hated these chairs. They gave off the illusion of comfort but once finally made to sit in one it was always a disappointment.She felt as though she might feel more comfortable revealing her most intimate secrets and flaws to a complete stranger if she were, standing perhaps.
  She had entered on her tip toes as always, even though it had only been the two of them in the office. Which was more crowded and confined than intimate and cozy.Even with the two (large, blatant) Van Gogh knock offs, one "Starry Night", the other Cafe Terrace on the Place Du Forum". The choices had made her like Dr. Spears immediately. Most people hung the many variations of Irises or Sunflowers (also fake) by Van Gogh. But she'd always felt that these two paintings, the brilliance of color dancing over,  the ebony sky, or cloudy waves of sacre bleu, the blur of bodies seeming misplaced among all the nameless hues were an ode to the tortured artist (OR tortured persons in general).  
  Amina thought that Van Gogh, like herself, must've seen the world with his own two eyes to be grey, muddled confusingly with the scent of burnt flesh and orange peel, the faint color of dried blood cold and metallic.He painted the world in all the colors that his insanity had stolen from him the ability to see.
"They say he heard voices too.", she'd thought.
"Must've been a pretty fucked up conversation to make a man cut off his own ear."
 Just as she was about to muse over the sorts of conversations a tortured artist (or persons in general) might have with one self, she was interrupted by Dr. Spears who had been quietly finishing  the paperwork from her previous session.
 "So, Amina. Its good to see you. Glad you could make it this week.", Dr. Spears smiled good naturedly, winked  and turned to wheel her chair around in order to open the large window that had somehow squeezed itself into the small outer wall of the office.
"Yeah, sorry about last week", Amina began, shifting in the uncomfortable living chair.
"Something came up".
"Oh yeah?", Dr. Spears inquired as though they were long lost friends.
"Well, WHAT came up exactly?".
"Um, well my boyfriends laptop...", the doctor began to scribble.
"I see".
"No big deal. It came down though...onto the freeway."
Dr. Spears looked up at Amina suddenly and wide eyed.
"Along with his wallet, keys, and guitar case.", Amina finished quickly, avoiding eye contact.
"Ooooh Amina, not on the freeway?!", Dr. Spears had dropped her pen onto the legal pad, closed her eyes and began to firmly massage the bridge of her nose.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence (for Amina because she knew the silence was due to the fact that Dr. Spears didn't know where to begin or end with her. For Dr. Spears the silence was due to the fact that she KNEW that Amina had no intention what so ever of explaining herself.) Finally, Dr. Spears spoke.
"Amina, what happened this time?"
*****

It wasn't that she hated Morrison. Of all the many issues that made their relationship the 7th layer of hell that it was, neither of them could say that it was due to a lack of love. Sometimes Morrison even suspected that their problems were due to how much Amina loved and cared for him. Which made him love her infinitely more. Imagine having such an overwhelming fear that the people you come to love might one day leave you, that you actually try to kill them.  
 This thought brought a sob to the base of his throat. And he didn't yet know whether he was crazy  for thinking that this kind of love was beautiful, or for knowing that the love of his life may very well be the one to end his life, and believing that their love would be worth it all in the end.

  He hadn't simply resolved to accept her issues as a way of life, or choose to keep them hidden or tucked away only to be brought out on holidays or at family functions and it wasn't that Morrison didn't believe that Amina could get better, nor was it that he didn't want or need her to. It was that Morrison knew that he WOULD not, COULD not leave her. Because more so than anything Amina had ever done, or could do the absence of her might be the thing that actually killed him.
 And he also knew that there were days, like today, that she forgot how much he loved her. Moving so quickly through emotions and moments that he figured her memories must look the way the world does when speeding on the highway.
 Images, sounds, people vomitted into her psyche and then put on spin cycle.
So he always tried to be understanding. Tried to be patient. He knew that eventually she would apologize and all WOULD BE forgiven, but in the mean time he'd have to put on his gear and prepare to spar. Although in sparring matches both fighters are usually expected to attack.So he supposed he was more like the crash test dummy to her wayward test vehicle. Because he'd get banged up, tossed around. Sure, it may even take a while for the bruising to heal but the brunt of the damage would be dealt on her.
 So, while she threw  curses and promises (more like threats, even to Morrison) at him like an amatuer knife thrower, he sat quietly and prayed that she might just kill him already and get t over with. The deep heart wounds would only bleed him out, take more time. It would happen eventually. She would say, or do the ONE thing (or so he thought) that would double him over.
 And in the time that it would take for him to breathe a wet, heavy sigh and throw his hands in the air; she would have seen the pain in his eyes and apologized. They might make love or laugh it off but soon enough it would be over.IF he could keep quiet. He just needed to hold out a little longer.
And then, it happened.
It was like time slowed down.  EVERYTHING seemed bigger, brighter, closer.  He could feel the blood rushing to his temples, see the drops of sweat that had run down his face and rested on his eyelashes and the whites of her large eyes as she shouted with a blurry mis directed rage. But all that he could hear was....
"YOU DON'T F*****G LOVE ME, YOU F*****G PIECE OF S**T!"
*****
 "Do you regret it now?", Dr. Spears asked re buttoning the top button her blouse and shivering slightly.
Amina looked passed her and out of the window.
"Looks like rain".
Dr. Spears looked out at the street below and then back to Amina,
"Do you?"

*****
 He always hated when she said s**t like that.
"I CAN'T F*****G BELIEVE THIS!", he'd shouted back at her.
"I don't have to put up with this s**t."
He pulled over to the shoulder and took the keys out of the ignition.
He leaned his head back against the head rest of the drivers seat and closed his eyes.
She wasn't speaking, he could hear her heavy moist breath and he knew that she was looking at him.
Slowly Morrison opened his eyes and turned to her.
He looked into her eyes and put his hand cautiously but intimately on her thigh.
"Amina, I love you. But I can't. I can't do this anymore. It's killing me. And not just because of the s**t you say, but because I can't take seeing you like this anymore."
She rolled her eyes and turned her head to look out the window.
"Clouds are comin in.", she replied numbly.
"Amina I'm serious."
He lightly turned her face to look at him, and kissed her lightly.
When he'd opened his eyes again she was staring out of the window and tears were rolling down her face as though she'd surrendered all control of herself to her pain.
He zipped up his jacket and got out of the car.
*****
 "Wow, seems like he's pretty serious this time Amina.", Dr. Spears egged, trying to get a response from her uncharacteristically quiet patient.
 "Yeah.", Amina said suddenly,shattering the smothering silence, causing Dr. Spears to jump just a little.
"I gotta be honest here Amina, I can't say that I blame him."
Amina got up from the chair and shuffled her feet to the window.
"Me either."
"Whooo, is the temperature droppin out there?", Dr. Spears asked as she grabbed her thermos of coffee from the desk beside her.
*****
 "MORRISON!", he heard faintly and suddenly behind him. Between the intervals of "GOD DAMN IT!", and his own name he could here her running clumsily behind him.
"What?!", he yelled angrily over the sound of the engines and the tires on the wet pavement.
"You can't just leave. You can't just leave me like this.", she'd begun to sob now, and even as it rained he could distinguish the tear drops from the rain on her face.
He reached out to touch her.
"Amina, if I don't leave. I'll end up just like you."
And in an instant her eyes were en-flamed again.
"LIKE ME? WHAT THE F**K IS SO WRONG WITH ME?"
She stomped back toward the car and he watched.
Deciding whether or not his belongings were worth the chase.
He turned on his heels and continued to walk away from her.
 Behind him he could hear the cold metallic crash of electronics meeting concrete and car tires. Horns honking and swerving so as not run over the blistered pieces of guitar that now lay sprawled in their path.
 And even as he trudged on, his second thoughts were not spurred on by the thought that he MIGHT be able to save his cell phone, nor that it would just be easier to get back in the car. No, all he thought about was her.
 "FUUUUUUUUUCK!", He yelled to the sky, but over the sound of the truck he couldn't hear himself scream. He did however, recall that the sky had been an unusual color of blue. He hadn't seen a blue like that one anywhere since.
*****
"Well?"
"Well what?", Amina asked returning to her chair.
"Is it cold in here?", Dr. Spears asked distractedly.
"Well, WHAT?", Amina asked again.
"Sorry, um...where was I? Oh yes, do you regret the things you said that day? Your actions?"
"Looking back on it, I don't know, ya know? I mean I guess I could say that I wish it hadn't ended up like this. But, well, I mean, he seems...happy."
Dr. Spears smiled sadly, "do you miss him?"
Amina thought for a  moment and looked over her shoulder suspiciously as though someone might over hear.
"I do. I miss him more and more everyday", she paused and bit her bottom lip deep in thought.
"Sometimes I think that I smell him. Hear his voice sometimes.", she sighed.
She got up from the chair once more and crossed to the window.
"The stars...".
It was dark now, and the stars had begun to swirl in a beautifully indescribable shade of blue.

*****
"I'm sorry I haven't been by more.", Morrison started. "Things have been really crazy lately."
  He looked down at his feet and shoved his hands deep into his pockets the way that he always did when he feared he might get emotional.
"You look great.", he chuckled and popped his knuckles, hands still balled in fists.
"Ugh." He rubbed the back of his head nervously.
"I'm sorry if I'm being weird I just, there's someone I'd like for you to meet."
A small figured woman with long hair and kind eyes that Amina wanted to hate emerged shyly from behind Morrison.
"Hello Amina, it's so nice to meet you.I've heard so much about you.", she smiled politely.
Cute little b***h, Amina thought.
"I'll give you two some privacy.", the girl said quietly before kissing Morrison deeply on the lips and walking away.
Amina growled and furrowed her brow.
"Quit it Mina, she's a good girl.", he smiled, glancing behind him to watch her.
"Mina, I think I might marry her."
And all at once she felt herself get lighter, as though she'd instantly lost all of her winter binge weight.
She tried to cry but found herself unable to, even the thought of being sad or hurt had vanished from her completely. He was smiling, and she hadn't seen him smile like that in years.
  It's okay now, she thought.
  "I love you. I'll never stop."
  He knelt down and placed the rose on the stone. He ran his fingers over the name and said it aloud.
  "Amina."

Author's Note

First draft, please give me a break lol

Reviews

[Jordan T. Hawkins]

Love your imagery and your facility with language. Your descriptions about Van Gogh's paintings was spot on. This one...gorgeous: "Amina thought that Van Gogh, like herself, must've seen the world with his own two eyes to be grey, muddled confusingly with the scent of burnt flesh and orange peel, the faint color of dried blood cold and metallic.

Maybe instead of saying "Dr. Spears inquired as though they were long lost friends", you should show in his mannerisms why this was the case.

You were able to render Amina and Morrison's relationship with great artistic detail and understanding. I liked the interplay of Dr. Spears and Amida with the window and weather outside which kind of functioned liked its own character in a way.

I noticed the allusion in: "stars had begun to swirl in a beautifully indescribable shade of blue." Clever relating back to Van Gogh's Starry Night right here.

The ending was done with delicacy. Your story led me through their interwoven affairs and brought me out at a satisfying concluding. Amine, in the end, finally got closure, which was what I had hoped to see.

Good job. Bonus points for not sparing on your emotions. Extra points for having the courage to post a first draft. Great stuff.

[C.Bush]

Jordan, thank you so much! I was so nervous lol I'm actually just in the middle of reading "The Object In The Sand". I think it's incredible that you're a self published author. Do you have any advice for a beginner like myself?

[Jordan T. Hawkins]

You're at a darn good place already! Your writing stands out to me, and I've read a few writers on writerscafe. My only advice is to keep writing. Every day you don't, your skills rust little by little...but your talent never goes away. You're gonna be better (I promise) than you ever expected.