Shorties: Number 23

Tyler stood face to face with Allison.  Their eyes locked, speaking the language of love and desire.  Her eyes declared hunger and he burdened his own.  He foresaw the kiss.  In a flash, Tyler lived it a million times.   He was mesmerized by her lips which were parted as Allison drew in a breath.  In abandonment, Tyler leaned down and their lips met. 

Sweet and soft, Allison’s lips whispered passion.  Like an angel imparting the breath of life, Tyler thrilled in the euphoria that swept him.  He pulled her tighter and Allison responded in kind.  He wanted to encompass her, take her in, and consume her.  The whole of space and time were condensed to that moment and act.  The world faded as Tyler’s whole purpose in life was to kiss Allison in complete abandon.  Allison was the only light, the spark by which all existed.  To kiss her was to receive life. 

Tyler broke the spell as he pulled away and began kissing her right cheek and down to her neck.  Each caress, each kiss was an offering to her heart.  Each token was to express his love.  Her face looked to the heavens as she accepted his offerings.  In tune, in harmony with Tyler, Allison was a feline whose whole body moved and met each stroke.  Her hand cupped around his neck, she purred, “Oh Tyler.”

A New Story: Getting Help

Bob and Marsha tried talking for two weeks but things went nowhere.  Unhappy and frustrated, Marsha again suggested seeing a marriage counselor.  Though Bob was ready to just end it all, he agreed to a last ditch effort.  Since neither had received counseling before, they were unsure where to start. 

Bob opened his laptop and Marsha reached for her iPad.  They searched and found four counselors within a ten mile radius.  Bob read online reviews for each but the comments and ratings were very similar. He felt any of them would be satisfactory.  This was a time Bob was more than happy to let Marsha chose the therapist she wanted.  He was sure if he picked one she didn’t like she would never let him forget it.

The first two sessions were stormy.  Marsha had many tears and Bob was defensive.  The counselor finally came to the conclusion he needed to see both of them separately.  They each had personal matters to overcome before they would be strong enough to confront issues in their marriage. 

Once the engagement ring was purchased, Marcus wanted a perfect setting for the moment he would ask for Julie for her hand in marriage.  He knew they had to return to the Italian restaurant of his friend Aldo.  What better place to propose than the location of their first romantic date.  He called the restaurant and Aldo answered the phone.  As soon as Marcus stated the reason for the reservations, Aldo blurted, “You asked her dad for permission to marry her, right?”

“What?”

Slowly and with simple words Aldo asked, “Did you ask her dad for his permission to marry his daughter?”

Marcus was stunned.  “Do people do that anymore?”

“Dude, you say you are romantic.  What’s the matter with you?  You gotta ask her dad, man.”

“Really?  You sure?”

“Dude, please!”

Now Marcus had a dilemma.  He only met Julie’s parents once.  How could he contact her dad?  Is this something you can do over the phone?  If so, how would he get the phone number without tipping his hand?

A New Story: Would We Have Gotten Married

Bob moved back home but tensions were still too high for him to share a bed with Marsha.  They agreed not to raise their voices.  If yelling felt necessary, the one who had the need wouldn’t say a word but simply would raise their hand.  The other was to remain quiet and let them cool off.  It wasn’t a perfect system but it helped them avoid unpleasantness they both didn’t want.

Bob started asking the questions he buried deep in his soul.  During the second evening he was home, he asked Marsha, “If you knew then what you know now, would we have gotten married?”

Marsha looked at Bob with a hint of surprise.  She gave a pause before saying, “Yes.”  Silence, other than the television and ceiling fan, returned to the room.  Then she added, “What about you?”

Bob already knew his answer.  He had known for years but understood the consequences of sharing this knowledge.  Though his words would sting, Bob had to move forward.  In spite of their current difficulties, she had been his companion for most of his life.  She deserved to know the truth.  Finally, he said, “No.”

The word pierced Marsha’s heart.  Primal fears surfaced.  Ordinarily, she would lash out but knew it wasn’t an option.  Conflicts filled her emotions.  Marsha’s spirit plunged into black pain as tears ran down her cheeks.  She quietly retreated to the bedroom.  In the past when Bob upset his spouse, he would give her a few minutes before going to her to apologize.  Things were different now.  They were trying to save a marriage that teetered on the brink.  He knew he couldn’t apologize for being truthful.  His reply was without malice.  Despite pain and confusion in his soul, Bob was certain trying to save the marriage was the right thing to do.  However, he also knew they were on the precipice.  Could they afford a step back in order to move forward?

Marcus grabbed the iron and ironing board and clearly heard again his father’s words of wisdom.  “If you can’t make a decision about marrying a girl after one year, you need to let her go.  Otherwise, you are wasting her time and life.”  Marcus and Julie were both 28 years old and they had dated for nine months.  As he ironed a dress shirt, the thought of being with Julie until death thrilled him. 

Since Marcus lived much further from work than Julie, he woke before her.  His first act after shutting off the alarm was to send her a text.  Sometimes it was a silly greeting or syrupy sweet statement of his love for her.  They had lunch together at work and met at every other opportunity during the day.  Most evenings were spent together.  They also exchanged phone calls or texts to bid each other a good night.  Julie was his first and final thought of every day.  Julie was part of his DNA.  He couldn’t imagine life without her. 

He believed it was time to start shopping for an engagement ring.  He knew his heart was ready for this next step in life and in their relationship.  The thought of seeing Julie’s face light up at the sight of an engagement ring thrilled him.  All day his spirit soared.  He knew he loved Julie and wanted an exclusive life with her. 

Shorties: Number 22

I was blessed with parents who enjoy travel.  The first major trip I remember was the summer before entering first grade.  We went as far west as Yellowstone National Park with many stops along the way.

My father had the unique ability to pick the cheapest and dumpiest motels offered.  At the time, I didn’t notice.  It thought it was fun sleeping in a new place. My siblings were more concerned about which bed they would get.  Would they share a bed with me, and get kicked and flopped on all night or on the hide-a-bed by themselves? 

During a stop in Rapid City, South Dakota, it was hot during the day.  All my dad wanted was a hotel room with air conditioning.  There was a unit in the window so he was happy.  At some point during the night, as dad says it, “It was so hot I couldn’t breathe.”  He decided to sit in the car with the AC on in order to cool down.  When he opened the door, a wave of arctic air slapped him in the face.  He shut off the AC unit and opened some windows.  It cooled off quickly. 

The last vacation I took with both siblings, we went east to Washington, DC.  On the way, we spent the night in Cincinnati, Ohio in a high rise Holiday Inn.  This was a very nice hotel.  I don’t know what got into my dad.  Maybe it was because Major League Baseball’s All Star Game was playing that night and he wanted to watch. 

We kids wanted to go to the pool.  My mother said no and we were cooped up in the room getting on each other’s nerves.  My dad was trying to watch the game, and I know we were loud, but my mother fell asleep.  I don’t know why I did it.  Honestly, I don’t but as a result of what I did, my siblings had more respect for me.

I got close to my mom and whispered, “Dummy.”

Mom replied, “Mmm hmm.”

I did this a few times as I found humor in mom agreeing with me calling her a dummy.  Then I called my siblings to observe my actions.  With a little concern it wouldn’t work this time I softly called, “Dummy,”

“Mmm hmmm.”

Right away, my siblings saw an opportunity.  “Ask mom if we can go swimming.”

“Dummy, can we go swimming?”

“Mmmm hmmmm.”

I think we were gone and in the pool in two minutes.  I don’t know how long it took until mom woke up.  Of course, we weren’t there and she asked where we were.  Dad, watching the ball game mumbled something about us going to the pool.  “I told them they can’t go to the pool.”

“They asked you again a little while ago and you said they could.”

I’m sure he was just happy to get rid of us. 

Shorties: Number 21

Another excerpt from a story not yet revealed. 

He remembered how hard things had been after he and Marsha married.  Money had been good at the factory but after the layoffs, money got tight.  He realized now how foolish he was.  They did not prepare for any financial setbacks.  Being young, he simply believed the money would continue coming.  It didn’t.

They had only been in the apartment a year when Marsha got pregnant.  James was two years old when he and Alex lost their jobs.  Money got very tight.  Pete believed you paid your bills first and lived off the rest.  After paying rent and utilities, there was nothing left for food.  How would he provide food for his family?  What would he do next month?  The unemployment check didn’t go very far.

Pete relived the anxiety that filled him in those days.  It seemed they never had enough of anything.  In his mind’s eye, he relived looking at what other’s had and wishing he had half of it.  When they went to the store, Jimmy always asked for something but Marsha and Pete had to deny him that little toy or snack.  It was never in the budget.  It killed him to always say no.  Marsha took it in stride that she never got her nails done.  She simply said she didn’t want to be “one of them hussies.”  Jimmy eventually asked less and less for things.

One day, Pete told himself, one day he would provide for his family like a real husband and father.  He yearned for the day when his son needed something and he would get it.  How he wished for a time when he could buy flowers for Marsha and surprise her with trinkets.  He wanted them to know they were special. 

Even when he finally found employment, money was tight.  He’d go six months without changing his oil in his car simply because they couldn’t afford it.  He hoped and prayed the car or refrigerator or washer or dryer or floor or plumbing would make it until they got their tax refund.  He also hoped and prayed for miracles.  He hoped and prayed just to make an extra $200.00 per month.  If only they could make that much more each month, life would be so much easier.

He marveled at the desperation of his life back then.  An extra $20.00 for one thing or another seemed impossible then.  Now he worried little about an extra $1,000.00 for one thing or another.  He felt sad.  He saw images of his life in this house before him and compared it to now.  The contrasts were stark and dramatic.  While not quite a millionaire, he could see the possibility of it happening with hard work, strategic investments and a little luck. 

He never lost sight of the value of a dollar but he did lose sight of other important things.  That thought caused Pete to begin a process of evaluation.  Wheels began turning in his mind but so much had come at him so fast nothing processed.  His heart still grieved over the loss of his friend.  Pete determined he would sort things out once A-H’s funeral was over and he returned home.  He would make changes for Marsha and James.  Hopefully, he was not too late.

Shorties: Number 20

When I was single and out on my own for the first time, a friend gave me a bed to sleep on.  She said the only problem was that there was a spring coming through on one side.  I thought a springy bed was better than sleeping on the floor.  I was grateful and thanked her for the bed. 

Little did I know that this was the spring that was sent on a mission from Satan himself  Since the spring made a small hole on the opposite side of the big hole, I put a towel over it.  I made the bed and went to bed looking forward to a night of relaxing, blissful rest. 

The beast had other plans.  It sat there, biding its time.  It plotted and planned until the precise moment when I would roll over onto it.  There I was drifting in the highlands of my mind when it happened. 

I rolled over onto the spring.  The spring condensed itself and sprung its entire length to maximize the penetration into my body.  Like the whalers of long ago, I was harpooned in the backside.  I let out yelp and leapt from the bed.  I was face down on my stomach so I wouldn’t bend, break or deepen the penetration of the skewer protruding from by buttocks. 

Visions of emergency room doctors and nurses passing out at the sight of the hideous spear flashed through my mind.  I mourned the fact that I may never run again let alone walk.  I might not even be able to sit properly. 

There I was, moaning, when my roommate walked in the room. 

“What are you doing on the floor?”  he asked.

I figured he must be half asleep and, therefore, blind.  How could he miss such a large spring shaped battle-ax sticking out of my butt. 

In agony, I cried, “Dave, the bed stabbed me.”

“Where?”

“What do you mean where?  It’s right….”  I looked behind me.  There was nothing there.  That crafty spring had made its way back into the bed without anyone seeing it.  My roommate snickered, rolled his eyes, and went back to his room.

Though I vowed to never be skewered  like that again, there were many more nightly contests with the evil bedspring.  Fortunately, I have lived to tell the tales. 

Shorties: Number 19

This is an excerpt from a story I wrote about 30 years ago.  Runner is a horse and the Owner is a human.  

That night Runner dreamed of the days when he was on his own.  He dreamed of running as fast as he could from one hill to the next.  In his vision the sun brightly shone and the grass was so green.  In his mind’s eye it was as if he were out running as he once did but still had the care of the Owner.  This didn’t make sense.  He began to ponder this when he woke up.  He looked upon the vision with bewilderment.  It felt so good to run but now he couldn’t run because of the confines of the corral. 

            

He thought of his name, Runner.  “I haven’t run in years.  What a joke!  My name is Runner but I don’t run.   All of the other horses names say something about who they are.  If only the Owner hadn’t made the fence.  That stupid fence!  I’m stuck inside this stupid, lousy fence.  I may as well be in a prison with walls a hundred feet tall and topped with barbed wire.  Once I was free but now I’m trapped.”  He felt dictated by the owner.  He began to resent the owner.  

            

After the morning feeding the owner walked up to Runner and asked, “Have I done something wrong?”  Runner quickly replied, “No, everything is fine.”  The Owner smiled and asked “Will you walk with me for a moment?”  The sun was shining brightly just as it did in the dream.  Runner gazed out at The Land Beyond and his heart burned within him.  The Owner looked directly into the horse’s eyes and asked, “Do you want to run free again?”  Runner quickly said no and turned away as tears began to well up in his eyes.  He didn’t understand why he was crying only that there was a great sadness in his heart.  So much emotion he felt that words could never explain it.  The Owner simply said, “Let’s go for a ride.” and turned to get the saddlery.

           

Runner stood too nervous to move as the Owner dressed him for the ride.  He looked anxiously about him when the owner mounted and prodded him to start moving.  Step, step, step, he began to walk.  As the horse had feared, he was being led to the gap in the fence.  The other horses gave him looks of contempt as they rode by.  When they reached the edge of The Land Beyond the horse shut his eyes.  He wanted to protest.  He wanted to stop.  He wanted to fight but he just couldn’t.  He kept his eyes closed for a few more steps when he heard one of the other horses shout, “Don’t bother coming back again.”  He started to speak in his own defense when felt a swift kick in the ribs.  Startled, he began to run.

            

He ran and ran with tears streaming down his face.  He was unsure of how he felt.  He wanted to savor all of it but was afraid that it was wrong.  Was this what he was looking for?  He felt whole, free, and a little bit at peace.  Horse and rider galloped off into the distance.

            

The euphoria of freedom ebbed as fatigue began to wear on him.  He slowed to a trot and finally to a walk when the Owner began to speak.  “This is the way it is supposed to be.  You have the world to roam and explore and I will guide you.  Unlike before when you didn’t know what was best, I will shepherd you to the best water holes and grazing land.  It won’t be hit or miss. “

             

Runner asked, “Why is there a gap in the fence?”  The Owner said, “Some horses put the fence up years ago but I took it down.  The horses rebuilt it again and I tore it down again.  It was a continuous cycle that ended when I made the fence with a missing section.  I continue to ensure there is a section missing.  Whenever one of them is ready to live where they belong, they can ride out.  The fence represents their stubbornness and unwillingness to live where they belong.”  Runner remembered his dream and felt a wave of emotion wash over him.   “I can run in The Valley of Dreams and The Land Beyond.” he said.  The Owner smiled and nodded.

            

He was free.  The world was once again his to explore, but this time he had someone to take care of him.  The world is not so much of an evil place as it is a lost place in need of someone to care for it.  With a heartfelt cry of exaltation the horse ran off to find his old friends and introduce them to the Owner.  The Owner felt Runner’s rapture and rejoiced with him.

Shorties: Number 18

Starbucks was officially removed from the list of regular hangouts.  Keith could no longer bear it.  There were too many memories of her there.  He would continue to buy coffee there and flirt with his favorite baristas but he could never again stay to read the paper and sip coffee.

It was Keith’s routine on off days to read leftover newspapers and drink coffee.  He had gone there for years and knew all the employees and managers by name.  Keith knew the names of their children and the owner’s grandchildren.  They all knew him and started serving his Casi Cielo coffee when they saw his car.  Keith was a staple in the establishment.  For him to not be in his chair every Saturday was an impossible thing to consider.  Nevertheless, Keith had to make the impossible a reality.

For many years when he wasn’t reading his paper or teasing the baristas about his coffee being cold, he was on his phone chatting with an old friend.  Before the Internet, before children, before marriage, before a career, they were pen pals.  Both had an interest in learning about cultures in the world.  For some reason, God saw fit for them to meet and become friends. 

What started as letter exchanges once or twice a month became a running string of conversation at all hours of the day.  The two were inseparable and knew each other as intimately as lovers.  They confided in one another and trusted each other. 

Then came the day when Keith heard nothing.  This had happened once or twice before and he was concerned each time but she came back and they picked up where they left off.  Keith hoped and believed this would be no worse.  It was.

Only Keith’s dearly departed spouse knew of this relationship.  His dear friend told no one.  As dark days were strung together like acidic pearls, Keith felt a dense fog roll in like nothing since his wife died.  Not knowing her fate dug into his soul.  As he sat in Starbucks pretending to read the paper, he could only wonder what happened? 

Was there a word written in jest that cracked the foundations?  Could such a rift grow without his knowledge?  Surely they were too close for him not to notice.  Was she sick?  He would gladly send flowers and cards.  Being retired, he would and could fly to be with her.  Was she so ill she couldn’t make any contact?  Even a simple note to say she was too sick to talk would end the agony. 

As he looked around the Starbucks, memories of conversations flooded back.  How was his recall so clear in this moment?  He could even remember teasing Megan, the barista, before returning to his seat and conversation.  So much had been said and shared in this place.  The life of each word haunted him.  Every spirit became a millstone to which he was chained.  What was once a place of joy was now a dungeon.  He had to leave and escape the interment. 

For a long time, Keith wouldn’t allow the thought to form.  Each time it knocked on the door of his heart he refused to step closer.  When weeks turned to months, it pounded and shook his foundations.  She was dead.  There was no other explanation.  As he drove home after picking up his Starbucks, he fiercely brawled with tears that flooded his eyes.  After shutting off the engine, he forced his eyes closed.  Tears leaked through the creases of his eyelids. 

Embarrassed, he hurried into the house.  Men his age didn’t cry.  It wasn’t done.  No one was there to see him save his trusty beagle, Daisy.  As always, she greeted him with love and appreciation but noticed something was different.  Keith placed the coffee cup on the counter and raced to his study, Daisy behind him. 

He looked around the room with despair in his eyes.  He was sinking without any answers.  Finally, he fell into the desk chair, elbows to his knees.  He covered his face in agony and shame.  His shoulders shook.  Daisy saw it all and wondered.  She did the only thing a dog that loves her master could do.  She placed her head upon his leg. 

Shorties: Number 17

Sleep continued a game of hide and seek.  Lying in bed only invited frustration.  Instead of being teased yet again, she sat in the darkness of her room.  Seeking to prevent night from filling her with depression, she lit a candle. 

Across the room in a thread worn chair she stared at the single tongue of flame as it danced around the wick.  Shadows gyrated in tandem with each shake and rattle.   Absentmindedly, she hummed a tune last sung to her youngest child.  It was a silly song about elephants playing on a spider web.  At the end of each stanza, the elephant called more friends to join.  She mused at the absurdity of such a thought.  In her sleep depravation, she nearly burst out laughing.

How different her life now.  Could she ever have imagined she would sit here 14 years ago on her wedding night?  Never!  At one point, she couldn’t fathom having children or her own home.  That was on the morning after she wed.  Everything in her life before then was filled with childish thoughts.  Now she was grown up and couldn’t think childish things. 

Was that what pulled her mind away from slumber?  Was there still something inside calling her to childhood?  Now that she had children, a husband and a home, she couldn’t imagine life any other way.  It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was hers.  She was content with her life.  She probed the depths of her heart.  Something was hiding there. 

Was it using the shadows of the candle as camouflage?  With each flicker it, chameleon like, changed in conjunction.  Many nights would pass before a glimmer of light first cast a ray on the goblin.  Such little demons have a way of burrowing deeper when threatened. 

Shorties: Number 16

Writers sometimes get blocked.  I am not immune but I have an empty house.  It is such a rare treat.  My heart has to be purged.  There is so much to express.  I will start with this simple yet complex machine. 

As I type upon the keys, I cherish memories of various times it was put to use.  There was the 17 hour flight from Mumbai to New York City.  I was blurry eyed with emotion and lack of sleep.  I still took time to journal since sleep would not rest upon me.  I also used Garageband and made some music.  I had plenty of time to reflect upon my three weeks of work in India and the wonderful people I met. 

I remember having a very sudden chance to visit my sister for a weekend when she and her husband lived in Groningen, The Netherlands.  It was the first weekend in March that year and I stuffed all my belongings into a backpack.  This included my laptop.  It was bursting at the seams and added more pounds of weight than I wanted to carry.  The lappy came in handy.  Why?  I was stuck in an aisle seat that was broken.  I mentioned this to the flight attendant and she was surprised I was given this seat since it was supposed to have been blocked.  I could take a middle seat a couple rows forward of this.  I considered that option for a brief moment.  I remembered I work 12 hours shifts.  I reasoned 8 hours in an uncomfortable seat was nothing.  My laptop and I did more writing and music making on that and the return flight.  On the return, there was a delay and I missed my connection home.  Oh the joys of air travel. 

I have long found comfort in writing.  I first started doing so as a means to sort my thoughts.  I was in my early 20s and had no idea what I was doing.  I see that now but thought I did at the time.  I simply wrote what I felt.  When I was done, I’d read my heart on that paper.  Before, it was jumbled in my mind since I was too close to see what it all was.  Seeing it in a concrete form helped me tremendously.

When you boil it down, it’s not about the device.  It’s all about the one using it.  A paintbrush, a pen, a computer or camera is nothing without the one holding it.  Even one who is talented can still improve their abilities.  We never arrive.  We are what we become. 

I’ll be 53 in a few more months and I still don’t have all the answers.  I’m still trying to figure out who I am.  With stops and starts, laughter and tears, hugs and I need more hugs, I have to keep writing.  Whether it is this laptop or some other device, my heart has so much more screaming to be heard.  I truly am overjoyed some people actually like some of those screams. 

Shorties: Number 15

With glazed eyes, she stared into the distance.  Her limp body was across the floor with head cocked against the wall.  She saw through the couch as her mind wondered.  Despondency filled her.  The ones she loved so much left again.  It was a daily occurrence and she didn’t understand why.

She knew the routine but it never got any easier.  They woke, showered, gave her breakfast and then ate their own.  She watched their every movement.  She knew what would happen next.  After dressing in a particular manner, they briefly gave her the attention she wanted all morning.  Then she heard the words she hated.  “Buh bye.”

It was a horrible word and every day it pierced her heart.  They went to the car and left.  Each time she went to the window by the front door.  Perhaps it was a vain hope they were only joking.  Maybe this one time they would really stay home with her.  How she wished they would share the day together.

They could play fetch or simply nap together.  That was all she cared.  She wanted to be with the ones she loved.  Sometimes in the hours they were away, she daydreamed of such moments.  They would get out her favorite ball.  This always excited her.  He would walk to the back door and she tried to go through him to be out there first.  The only thing that slowed her was a closed door. 

After running until she could run no more, they would go inside and she would drink some water and cool down.  He would scratch behind her ears or by the base of her tail.  She loved that.  Then he would say, “Let’s go take a nap.”  Such magical words!

Instead, here she was, alone.  Again. 

Chasing the Wind

Alluring fantasies

Fantastic lies
Young man you must
Open your eyes
 
The fictions you seek
The passion you crave
Will one day lead you
Right to your grave
 
It blows in sweetly
And tickles your ears
Very soon you will be
Tasting your tears
 
You must be smarter
To see through the lies
And realize she’s really
A wolf in disguise
 
Chasing the wind
The ultimate game
It will only leave you
Living in shame


(c) 2017
Duane Windell Phillips

Shorties: Number 14

It was a particularly rough day.  The clock ticked passed 8:30 AM and Dwayne was starting his second cup of coffee.  He had been overweight his whole life and, after much effort, was within five pounds of his weight goal.  More than anything, he wanted a donut with his coffee.

Because of workloads, it was difficult for people in the office, even in close proximity, to converse with one another unless they made a concerted effort to do so.  As a result, Dwayne heard Cindy speak on the phone every day but didn’t know her.  It was at the moment he craved a donut, he heard Sally thank Cindy for bringing in donuts. 

Instantly, a debate raged in Dwayne’s mind.  He was so close to his goal and shouldn’t lose focus.  Still, it is good to give yourself a treat from time to time.  Everyone needs a reward for their hard work.  He didn’t want to get off track.  Then his mind was made up.  Dwayne stood and walked to Cindy and asked if he could have a donut.  He took the last glazed donut since he didn’t want a chocolate one. 

On this day, Dwayne and Cindy began developing a friendship.  They were both surprised they shared the same birthday if only on different years.  Their  bond deepened over many years and it was bittersweet the day Cindy retired.  She had mentored him and been his friend.  Though the friendship wouldn’t dissolve, Dwayne didn’t like the thought of not seeing her every work day. 

Arriving in the office early, Dwayne decorated Cindy’s office.  He had purchased a card and bouquet of flowers.  He wanted her to have a special day.  The party was jovial with smiles, laughter, cake and punch.  The office manager told Cindy should could leave early and receive full pay for her final day.  Dwayne carried Cindy’s box of personal items to her car as she left the office for the last time.

As Dwayne put the box in the trunk, Cindy said, “I have something for you.” 

“No, that’s not how it works.  You don’t give gifts on your special day.”

“I know but you have been a special friend to me.  Do you know what this is?”

She showed Dwayne a printing press letter that was on her keychain.  It had an uppercase letter C on it. 

“It’s a printing press letter.”

“That’s right.  My grandparents owned a printing press and I used to love going there and smelling the ink and paper and just playing around.  Grandpa gave me this when I graduated from high school.  I was the first one in my family to go to college.”

Then Cindy handed a printing press letter with an uppercase D on it.  Dwayne was speechless.  Emotions stirred within him.  “Cindy, I, I.”

“Just take it.  It’s to remember me.”

“I already can’t forget you.”