Preludes Of Conversation

She liked to stop movies at those parts which made her feel alive; she loved the beach and wanted to learn how to surf. Her favourite colour was blue like the midnight sky, she loved the kind of songs which made her cry and she listened to them on repeat while tears ran down her face. She wished for blue eyes, had a love-hate relationship with her best friend and went weak in the knees whenever she saw 6-inch heels; but I didn't know any of that. All I knew was that she was simply beautiful, beautiful in the kind of way that appeals to your tastes whatever they may be. It’s quite amazing how all you ever really know about anyone before that all important “hi” is how well or worse they look, as if destiny somehow depended on the rays of light that reach your eyes. Luckily, she was beautiful.

 

“Hi” 

 

The look in her eyes when she looked up at me made my imagination run wild; it’s as if the only way we can transcend the constraints of the here and now is through our vivid yet restrained imagination. Imagination gives wing to the heart, grants it flight to see and feel anything it so desires. In that moment my mind wandered beyond a lawn ablaze with poppy red buds of crimson hued orchids swaying in the gentle summer breeze waiting impatiently for her. Beyond the clear blue placidity of a pool that reflected the sun, a clear cut mirror of light that would soon reflect her beautiful form momentarily before she plunged into the cool blue water in an embrace of angelic grace. Beyond a red Beetle that raced down the country roads steered by her in a loose fitting dress of acrylic blue smeared with patches of scarlet rose petals. Her hair would blow in the rushing gusts of wind; shades of blackish brown highlighted with copper red streaks that contrasted against the deep black of her eyes, eyes that spoke volumes of innocence and mischief contrary to each other. 

 

“Hi”

 

Had not our senses been present we would forever be lost in the lull of our imaginations, voyaging through the many charms it holds, yet our senses have that unnerving way of bringing us back to where we should be, even though it may not be where you nor I would or could be.

Reviews

[SRMarx]

This is very descriptive and articulate. If you are interested in improving this piece, I'd focus more on showing the narrator's feelings and reactions instead of telling them to the audience.