Almost Morning

A Story by Eric Vienneau

live in the moment, because nothing ever stays.

From inside the tent, laying on my back with the twigs poking me and the blankets tugging at my shirt, I saw her silhouette in the fires orange, nightly glow. Outside, birds sang quiet songs of the night, squirrels skittered in the bushes finding their beds, but I could only hear her. Hear her slow breathing. The kind that one has at three in the morning, When the sun is long gone, and the world is more comforting than the dark void above.
From her silhouette she seemed to be looking at the stars.
I slowly lifted myself from the ground, watching my parents agape mouths, and twitching bodies, and I creeped slowly to the tent exit. I slipped on my sandals which still had sand on it from earlier that day. I ignored the roughness and very carefully, unzipped the tent. Each, almost incomprehensible tick of the zipper, made my stomach drop lower and lower at the thought of waking everyone, and this chance being ruined. I finally got it open, and before stepping out, I checked again to see if she was there. She was. She looked to be sitting in a chair.
I stepped out slowly, comforted by the sound of the dying fire, and the hush of night.
"Oh hey," I whispered. She looked back, slightly startled, and in her eyes the stars were glowing like snow flakes, but we were far from snow. Summer was almost over, and so was my youth.
She smiled, and sliding over on the bench slightly told me to sit down.
I sat down quietly and it felt like it was only us. Only us and the world and that felt nice.
The air was cool between us, she was wrapped in a thick blanket with beige and burgandy designs. I shivered restlessly in my chair. I put my hands toward the fire, flexing my arms because they were right in front of her.
"Are you cold?" She asked quietly. Her voice was angelic at night. A soft, breathless voice that made everything seem perfect.
"Yeah a little bit." I said hugging myself.
"Come on." She said. It wasn't until she looked down at herself when I noticed she was offering for me to get in the blanket with her. I made a point not to rush to her because I knew this moment would be with me forever and I have lived long enough to know when you should make time go slowly for yourself, in order to feel everything you will eventually never feel again.
So I stood, feeling the breeze on my bare arms, and the clear sky made it seem colder, but once i sat next to her, on the wooden bench her father brought on the camping trip, I felt her warmth from her skin. The remnants of the day still lingering on her skin, the rough sand, the heat of the lost sun, the smell of water and earth, the rush of love, and the agonizing desire to kiss her hung over me. It had been so long. So long hat I had loved her, and here she was now. Sitting next to me, wrapped inside the same blanket.
I put my arm around her shoulder to tangle not far from her arm. I wanted to put my hand on her arm and make her warm. She looked at me and I stayed quiet, staring at the dancing flames. I saw her from the corner of my eye looking at me, and when she looked at the fire, i imagined the flames as a mirror. I imagined her face in the fire, and her long light hair. I imagined her hugging me, but i could only wish that actually happened. She smiled and breathed heavy. My arm raised and lower with her body. She tucked her feet under the bench where mine were And they rested on mine. I didn't move. my muscles tightened when she slowly let her head fall on my chest, and with it, a shiver was sent from my head to my legs, but it wasn't cold. I let my tense relax and when i did, she relaxed with it. Her full weight was on me now, my hand fell on her arm where it started to create warmth in the cold of night. I felt her hair touch my neck And my chin. I looked down at her, wondered what was in her head. Does she like me? Does she love me? I doubt it. Or Is she just that tired and cold that she would randomly put her head on my chest and it doesn't actually mean anything? Or does she love me, and my body gives her comfort?. Or am I just thinking too much?
I decided not to worry about it. If i did, i would not be completely aware of all the feelings I'm having, and when time goes on, this will be gone. So i needed to stop worrying, Because when i start to worry, time speeds up, and i regret it. I regret not appreciating her.
So i leaned my head on hers, hearing her slow breathing, and mine was the same. I looked at the stars, and the trees shivering in the night while we stayed still. Everything was still. Except for the shivering trees. But i didn't pay attention to that.

© 2016 Eric Vienneau

Author's Note

I would greatly appreciate any comments anyone has whether it be good or bad.

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Reviews

Coyote Poetry

A very interesting short story. I like the situation and the thoughts. Woman will leave us in wonder. They control our world. I liked how you used the description. Made the story come alive in visions and in thoughts. Thank you for sharing the excellent tale.
Coyote