Two Halves: PrefaceA Chapter by aaaaTwo people, literally worlds apart.
It's Fall. Around him leaves slowly swirled. Their golden hues turning the landscape into a blinding spiral of color. The wind ran through the trees, and waves of leaves pushed themselves into the small stone square. The world was awash in colors. The stalks covered the dull gray masonry of the square. The squares which resembled some kind of sandstone, harvested like skin torn off of Earth.
Amid world awash with pigments stood a blotch of gray. A man walked down the small path into the square. His suit was pinstripe and well kept; his tie a deep blood red. He stood out among the world, as a salmon climbing the waterfall against the current. For he was walking into the wind, and the surges of leaves pushed against him trying to force him from the square. He walked unperturbed. A bronze plaque near the entrance of the square read "Gilgamesh Crossing". It was grubby and difficult to read. The man would not have been able to read it unless he had specifically walked over to it, and scrubbed the dull metal into some semblance of clarity. In the center of the crossing was a card table. It was old, but its metallic legs appeared to be sturdy. Leaves formed drifts around it's legs, and several littered its surface. A heavy typewriter sat on top of the table. The man walked to this table, and looked around the square. As he pulled out the decrepit chair in front of the type writer, its feet scraped across the stone; screaming in disapproval as the silence of the square was broken. He sat in the chair and slowly scooted in. He lifted his hands and hovered over the keys of the typewriter. His hands stood like the claws of bird over a small rodent. He typed five letters H-E-L-L-O. Even though he pressed down the keys hard the small ink coated hammers didn't move. Slowly, as if it was barely moving one of the clubs began to move. It got closer to the white paper. The individual fibers of the stationery curled over one another. The hammer caressed the sheet; leaving a black viscous "H" on the paper. Another stamp twitched. It moved faster than the last printing a "E" on the sheet. Finally as the brands punched out "HEY THERE" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's Spring. Cherry blossoms filled the air. The ground was covered in a pink blanket as the petals slowly floated to the ground. The entire forest was a field of pink. It was blinding. The flowers radiated the light reflected from the sun. In this ocean of white a pinpoint of black contrasted this pale sea. She strolled into the small clearing. The path was cobbled with river stones taken the nearby stream. The clearing was merely four concrete slabs and rough stone benches arranged into was resembled a semi circle. These stuck out out the blanket of white oddly. Their gray giving contrast to the white, making it more vibrant. There was a card table in the center of the bench circle. It was old and wooden, and seemed to have been there for long time. On its surface lay a old fashion heavy type writer. Several sheets of paper had been loaded into it. She walked towards this stand and pulled out the chair in front of it. Comparatively this furnishing seemed to be like new; its shinning wooden surface gleamed from a polish of dark brown varnish. She brushed off a few cherry blossoms and sat in this chair. Then she waited. Eventually the type writer began to move. The "H" gave a twitch. Then the "E". It had spelled out "HELLO" as she watched. She stared at these words lovingly. Then her fingers flitted over the face of the keys. Spelling out "HEY THERE". ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hello Hey there Both the man and the woman breathed out a sigh of relief in their separate clearings. Both had thought the other would not come to the meeting. Even though the other had always arrived. On time, but both secretly feared the other leaving them. How are you? The man typed his hands skittering across the keys like the legs of a crab in his urgency to type. I'm ok. How are you? Typed the woman. We're making small talk, she thought. Neither of us knows what to say. I guess I'll have to be the one to take the initiative. All the better for being able to talk to you. Typed the man. He had taken the first step, and it seemed as if both the man and the woman were thinking along the same lines. I miss you. Typed the woman. Tears filled her eyes as she hunched over the type writer. Her tears stained the paper and caused the ink of his words to run. Their black streaks painting rivers of sorrow through the paper. I know, but we can't be together. We wouldn't be safe. The man typed. He knew this to be true. If they even entered the same plane of existence the auditors would find them. They were relentless. But I miss you! The woman typed. Her hands were trembling, and tears rolled down her soft pale cheeks. I know. Believe me I know. The man typed. His own desire to see her was slowly over turning his better judgment. He would have to cut it off here. For both their safety. I have to go. Someone is coming. Typed the man as he got up from the chair quickly. The leaves billowing around him as he pushed them out of the way. As he left the square he kicked a pile of leaved in his frustration. Damn the auditors, he thought, One day I'm going to see her again. Just you wait! © 2010 aaaa
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