weather gods part 1
And pity lovers more than seamen
—Lord Byron
I was two things in my youth—a watcher of rainstorms and a chaser of skirts. Fortunately, the one redeemed the other and I emerged on the other side of my thirties as a quite decent person—and certainly, no one young girls would laugh about.
When I looked in the mirror, I liked myself.
The Man in the Mirror discovered he actually liked women—not just desired them, but appreciated them. Hence, it happened that as a new life unfolded, I entered into a curious and convoluted relationship with the opposite sex, epitomized in my conflicted love affair with Autumn Gardner.
Autumn is an artist who works in a variety of different media—oils and watercolors, stone and metal—hell, she even uses fabric in fascinating and imaginative ways to make statements.
It may sound as if I admire and esteem Autumn, but generally, I hate her.
We met in Central Park, sitting on a bench and staring at clouds. It was not an idyllic beginning.
“You’re on my bench.”
“Excuse me?”
I was looking up into her beautiful dark eyes and thinking how they reminded me of the harbor and its gunmetal waves.
“Would you please move?”
I shifted over to the far end of the bench.
“No, I mean move to another bench.”
“Sorry, but that’s not happening.”
I always sat on this bench. It afforded me the best view through trees and buildings of my quarter of the sky. I was not about to give that up—even for a beautiful woman.
She harrumphed and sat down testily. I could feel waves of hostility. She bristled with a galvanic charge.
I noticed she was dressed like a fashion model—a Gothic black swallowtail coat and beneath a short gray and red plaid kilt. She looked snooty and privileged. I didn’t like her.
“You’re not very gallant,” she sniffed.
I was chewing on my cheek—I always do that when I’m tense.
“For your information, I’ve been coming to this bench for the past five years.”
“Does it have your name on it?”
I wanted to do her harm.
“As a matter of fact, it does.” I pointed to the carved initials and date. “—See? D.L. 4/01/12. That’s me.”
“Looks like an April Fool’s prank to me. What’s your name?”
“Derek Leitner,” I sighed.
Her dark eyes grew huge, if that were possible, considering they were so enormous to begin with. I mean, if the eyes are the windows of the soul, then this girl had picture windows—floor to ceiling, at that.
“You’re Derek Leitner, the author?”
“I am,” I said, hoping my slender claim to fame would cow her into submission.
“I read A Momentary Dream, I liked it.”
“What did you like about it?” I dreaded asking as soon as the words were out. I anticipated she’d remark on the characters or dialogue—they always did.
“I like the way you created atmosphere and mood. You write well about weather.”
She stopped me dead in my tracks. I didn’t anticipate that.
I slanted a glance at her, suspecting some trick—but she looked like I do most days—legs stretched out, eyes squinting, staring at the clouds.
I tried not to notice how shapely her legs were—or how lovely her profile—or the soft blue-black hue of her hair.
My mouth was dry and my lips felt like bark.
“You’re staring,” she whispered. How she knew, I had no idea. She never took her eyes off the clouds.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t even try to deny it. I was staring. She was the only woman I ever met who reminded me of a rainstorm—she was that beautiful.
“You’re a womanizer, aren’t you?”
“No—not now. I used to be.” Why I confessed to her, I don’t know. I just felt I had to be transparent.
“Do you sit here to get inspiration for your stories?”
“Yes.”
“What do you like best about weather?”
I sighed. I didn’t reveal myself to just anyone. I heard my voice talking. “I like the sky—especially clouds. I need to watch them all the time.”
“What else do you need to watch?”
“Right now, I guess that would be you.”
She turned around and faced me dead on. “Do you want to take me for coffee?”
“I would like that—very much.” For some reason, I added very much—as if an intensifier were required.
And that’s how we began, sharing a bench on our lunch hour—each in our separate dream and needs, but with the same passion for staring at clouds.
Another great read! Thank you! Looking forward to the next part. Your work is great. Keep it up! Upvoted!
thank you so much, @fiction-trail - I truly appreciate your feedback :)
ha ha, so true, awgbibb - but I think I should join the Cloud Appreciation Society - because just as some have sea fever, I've always been passionate about the moods of the sky :)
Mr Geddes strikes again, great work John! :-D
thanks, @flatrider - much appreciated!
Magnificent, romantic and beautiful. I like.
thank you, @grildrig ...very kind
Strangely enough , weather is what one discusses when you don't know what to say? But here you go breaking all the rules again, You are so Good at this.