LomoLit: Cleaning up

“You owe me, buddy.” Jay told Amer as he wrapped a frosted glass ashtray in bubble wrap. “You owe me big time.”

“Owe you? For what?”

Photo by lighttomysoul

“For helping you pack all of this stuff without a moment’s notice. You should really work on your planning, dude.”

“Yeah, yeah. But I knew I could count on you, bud. Your beer is on me after we finish this.”

“You know I don’t drink.” Jay kept on wrapping other fragile items like trophies and frames in bubble wrap. He was getting good at it, he thought.

“Well, look here. Isn’t this the shirt we got from that party we went to during our first year at work? It still has holes from the time you got so sauced. I had to pull you up by the collar and the shirt ripped open!” Jay was still ecstatic.

Photo by cryboy

“O god, yes. That night was just… I don’t even have the words to describe it. It was a blackout,” Quipped Amer.

“And this! This thing!” Jay struggled with the words but couldn’t quite find it.

“Ah! That thingamajig we looted from that art opening! I swore we could have spent the night in jail for that stint!”

Photo by clownshoes

“Yes! Yes! Why on earth did we do that for again?”

“I can’t remember exactly. It had something to do with a bet…”

“Wait, I remember. The first one to take a thing out of that boring art event would get to pick the attire of the other for his wedding!”

Photo by neanderthalis

“Which one of us won that bet again?”

“You know who it is. That’s why you’re wearing a tux instead of a beach-wedding inspired suit to your wedding.”

“I still haven’t agreed to that, man.”

“A deal’s a deal.” Said Jay quietly.

And a deal was indeed a deal. Jay was holding onto a clear plastic bag containing a wallet, a ring, a broken watch and a small notebook and he let out an empty sigh.

“A deal’s a deal, man. But this wasn’t part of it. You said I was gonna be the best man at your wedding.”

Jay kept on packing the things inside a box neatly as Amer would. A cracked helmet was put on top of the box like a crown.

Garlic

Let me tell you a story, and like many other stories, this has a boy, who is a lot like other boys but a lot different too. And it also has a girl who is a lot like other girls but a lot different too.

There were no sparks when they met. Just “Oh there he is” and “Oh here’s another girl.”

But strangely enough, the way strange [things] happen when a child tastes ice cream for the first time, they found their way home together.

And somewhere inside [between] the stone’s throw between their houses, something started. Like a bud blossoming, opening its petals to meet the wind.

And in each day after that [the] first day with no sparks, they had more firsts and seconds and thirds and a lot more.

They had their share of seasons, too. With the coolness of spring giving way to the warmth of summer, and autumn’s leaves falling onto the sheen of winter’s cold earth but at the end of each sunset, they’d be where they began – which is spring.

And now, after living near and living far, the ties that bind them have bloomed, and strangeness has became magic; the kind that grips you at the whiff of sautéed garlic, the kind that signals the start of something good.

###

In one summer time, they didn’t know what was happening. There was no assurance and no hint. Maybe, there was but neither of them nurtured the seed.

In another summer time they were face to face, laughing, smiling but still no water to shower the deeply stuck flower in hiding. They drank, they smoked, they became the young adults they were eager to become. Well, one became that. The other was not ready.

In a different version of summer, rains frequented. They rarely saw each other. They talked less, too. They grew farther than what they were used to. One cared, the other not minded, killing the feeling before any started to happen. They just did not know what was waiting for under the earth.

Summer is the orange ray that watched that flower bloom. From a stray droplet to the shooting stems and leaves, to the dew that collected from early morning mist. It was far too sweet when it all began. Though they just don’t fully know where it will land. Will the wind carry their petals off to other earth, will they wither to the back to the ground that hid them from light, rain and sky?

They just don’t know. Who will? Who does? Will their petals reach the fettered kite the lion saw from a distance?

They know what they want, though they want what they do not know. Maybe, the cards will be greater than it seems now. All that’s certain is that there is that fighting chance.

Let’s not waste the past summers and the coming seasons. Let us not forget that one summer. 

Godspeed, Juanderkid.

"Let us go over to the other side. I think Juanderkid will be back very soon. Journey with me, will you?"

Goodnight, travel well Juanderkid. You are missed. Weave a story for us on the other side, will you?

LomoLit: Just a date

Ray cradled the bouquet of flowers in his left arm, he just got it from his local florist. Its delicate wrapping rustled in between strides as he made his way to their favorite deli.

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Photos by mikahsupageek and adash

“You there?” read his text to Pearl.

“Yup, just got here” buzzed Pearl back.

He was whistling and snapping his fingers on his free right hand. It was a nice day, not too sunny but not too wet. The usually scorching afternoon is giving way to the playful gusts of the looming evening. It’s starting to get dark but the rains look like they are far from carpeting the streets of his hometown.

Ray spotted his reflection on one of the windows of a cafe he just passed by. He admired the middle-aged man as if he had just seen an old friend who’s now getting the reins back from life.

He fished for his phone from his right pocket and slowly typed a message for Pearl. He was still walking. The deli was not too far away, now.

Pearl was sitting near the window of the deli. The light cream mantle of the table matched the yellow glow from the lights. The deli was not always her favorite spot in town but she learned to love it because of the great food. And of course, that’s where she had met him.

Photo by inthesky

He tapped on the glass window and gave her a big smile, almost a grin. Pearl waved him in and the bell chimed with her as he entered the dainty place.

He hid the flowers behind his back and playfully waved it in front of Pearl. The wrapping rustled in a lively tune. Pearl’s face lit up.

“Thanks, Ray. They’re so pretty.”

Photo by arifrodriguez

The red roses were still moist and supple. Ray had the bouquet carefully picked by the florist and he tipped the man who had been preparing his flowers for almost five years. He was delighted with the finished bundle. He was sure that Pearl would love it, after all, it is her favorite flower and color.

The two had drinks. Ray had spaghetti with the meatballs placed in a separate platter. Pearl had a salad then wine after. The two laughed and talked, both had a good time – a great time perhaps. Pearl kissed Ray on the cheek before they went their separate ways. She lived in a different part of town.

Photo by why-yu

Ray traced the figure of his jeans and found his phone. He dialed a number and waited for a few rings before someone picked up.

“Hi, good evening. I was the guy who came by earlier. Yes. Just a quick question… I just wanted to ask about your return policy on rings. Thanks.”

A drop fell on his beat up wingtips. It wasn’t raining.

10 word story #10

Da said he loved Mum. But he was never here.

"You freeze and I burn. As I am engulfed, smoke becomes my companion. My whole being seethes with a burning for you and yet you freeze. All I can think about is the biting coldness of your fingertips, the frost in your eyelashes, and the cool mist coming from your breath. Let us collide in a tempest that can make even the most sea-worthy of ships sink. May our kisses make us deaf with only the familiar sounds of our own heartbeats audible only to us. Douse my flames. I’ll thaw your longings. And by the time we’re over, all we’ll have left are our flame-wicked clothes and a rather cool steam from our collision."

10 word story #9

Don't stop your feelings from getting the best of you.

10 word story #8

What happens next when your marriage proposal gets turned down?

10 word story #7

Things are looking up when you refuse to stoop down.