I didn’t know the first thing about building a fire, and as I watched you work, the thought crossed my mind – once again – that we may run out of things to talk about. It wasn’t the silence that I feared. It was what would constitute that silence – doubt, a feeling that this was a reckless mistake, a realization that we were, after all, not compatible.
You worked quietly, patiently, and I thought I saw some of those same doubts on your mind as well. I asked you to play some music on your phone; you handed it over to me and asked me to play whatever I liked.
I scrolled through the list; a collection from a different time, where deep baritones were dominant. Different from what I was used to, and yet, if you think about it, it was what had brought us closer.
I picked a song whose artist sounded vaguely familiar. It started out like a tragic tune from a Shakespearean play, and seeing my scrunched up face, you laughed and told me that it gets better.
You were right. It did get better, and now it’s one of my favorite songs.
I told you a story once the fire was built and roaring, a story from my childhood. Then I told you another. I told you about my grandma who hated her mother-in-law. I told you about her mother-in-law, my great grandmother, and her love for sinfully sweet desserts. Stories so insignificant that until then I didn’t know I was carrying them in me.
You were the perfect audience, listening and saving my stories and words. To remind me of them on rainy days.
Then it was your turn. You told me about the time you begged your dad to keep a secret from your mom. You told me about your friends, the ones you kept in touch with, and the ones you missed.
The fire reduced to embers, and then to ashes before dawn broke. How many hours before dawn broke? I don’t remember. What I remember is thinking that my fears of silence were unfounded.
What I remember is how your skin felt under my still-hesitant fingers, and how your breath felt just above my mouth as you leaned in to kiss me.
Hi everyone! I’m working on a minimalist fiction project for this year’s #AtoZChallenge. The story will be shared in snippets, and the events occur non-sequentially. It is for the reader to interpret and form the “whole”. You can read all the posts here. Join me, and do share links to your AtoZ posts as well!