Mar
Hold On
by Kyle Katz.
The 4th of July—Independence Day.
Sitting in L.A. traffic for five hours on my way to Santa Barbara. Stuck behind a truck blowing hot city soot through my air conditioning. Three traffic accidents. One fatality.
I ventured out on a major holiday. Love made me do it! He finally wanted to introduce me to the rest of his family.
I turned up the music and bobbed my head to Lady Gaga’s Poker Face as the traffic creeped.
I couldn’t wait to see his brown eyes, feel his sculpted hands trace the curve of my neck. I couldn’t wait for his smile to wipe the adult off my face. I couldn’t wait for his deep raspy voice to drug me with,
“Hello baby I missed you.”
Love can be crisp and clear. Mature love can leave tattoos of the Sistine Chapel embedded on your heart.
We were middle age, had raised our families, and had grand kids.
We had many careers and given ourselves solely to our children and marriages that didn’t turn out the way we expected.
Something about us–together– that cancelled time’s warning: you’ll be on the other side of dirt soon.
We both knew it.
Love and pain we understood. We survived it all. We wondered if something in the air made us act like teenagers. We loved doing yoga together, breathing a tantric melody and meditating on the sound of wind and distant waterfalls. We laughed at the absurdity of it all.
After ten years: it seemed a right of passage that our friendship would turn into a deeper love.
He ran to the car to greet me. His smile bleeds words of poetry.
My heart divided itself into a thousand pieces and danced around like passion’s pixie dust.
I rolled down the window.
He stuck his face in without a word, kissing me as if my lips were his final destination.
He opened the door. “Get out of the car.”
He growled, then pushed me against the car, kissing me again—breathless.
“Come on. I want to introduce you.”
“I hope they like me.”
“They’ll love you.”
I left him inside and strolled around the yard that looked like a vacation oasis.
He joined me underneath a palm tree.
“This is paradise.” I grabbed his hand.
We watched two flames jump from one side of the fire pit and swirl into the air.
“Look, babe! Twin flames!”
His vacant eyes slid into darkness.
“I missed you!” I screamed.
He pulled away. “Who are you?”
My heart poured through my nose. Fear dragged me over the sharp edges of memories sealed in a coffin.
His confusion witnessed the blood drain from my poker face.
I handcuffed my tears to heaven’s gate… praying for his immediate return.
Love burst then dribbled to earth, along with the evening fireworks. Loss can be crisp, clear, sudden.
Six months later he texted me, ‘I love you. I really do.’
I texted back: ‘I know <3.’
‘Dinner?’
‘Of course!’
Tiffany V
I integrate Transformative Language Arts into any work I do, and I work with people all over the world, but I can't tell you who they are, due to NDAs! I was once told, “you exude art.” So, I decided to spend the rest of my life helping other like-minded individuals get to do the same. Let’s do something magical together!
Imagine the stop and go driving moments of love’s anticipatory “Poker Face” turned in phrases that are awe inspiring and timeless, yet original in both uplifting and crest falling the author. Was her story more of life’s freeway to igniting love or a hearse delivering her to her past gravesite fears? The unsettling contrast of storyline is the unmasking of both love and life as not mysterious nor magical as the discovery of another one breath at a time until there are no more.
That’s exactly how I wanted this piece to read. One breath at a time. Thank You Parisianne
Passion’s pixie dust – putting this one in the notebook. You had me riding with you in the car and singing along to Poker Face. You string words together like luscious pearls taking us on a journey of anticipation and in one beat breaks the heart. Loss of this kind is very hard to bear. Beautifully written in Kyle style!
I like people that jump on board right away. Hoping that first paragraph(which I learned how to write here on this site) would make the reader curious… as to the Why? Glad you joined me on this journey. Next time it will be just me and you. Thelma and Louise. Smile
hmm…it took me a moment to understand what happened and why it ended the way it did. This was a very interesting piece. I wish you could expand on it. It would be an interesting story indeed.
Thanks Amanda. I believe you are correct. There is a lot of room for expansion. Thanks for taking the time in reading this one.
Delightfully and eloquent play on words which literally danced throughout the tale. Quite enjoyed this one.
Monica,thanks for noticing the play on words. I actually changed it up at the last minute, after reading Sals story. I was inspired to say it a different way. It was challenging for me to make it dance with the passion these two characters had for each other, but keeping the integrity of what they were both coming face to face with.
Great piece Kyleeeee……
Many delicious lines!
Romantic yet real.
Love your writing.
Miryam, I’m so happy it captured that for you. It was my goal.
Kyle, you write with a delightful degree of ease. Your writing flows in driftwoodless waters. And I love your figurative expressions like “and danced around like passion’s pixie dust.”
I have to admit Sal,after reading your entry a number of times, I went back and re-worked some of the figurative expressions. Which I believed sauced it up a bit more, providing a bit more heat. Thanks.
Normally I don’t post comments on stories I’ve submitted as it implies bias, but I just wanted to say that this is one originally story, and definitely “Sassyboots special”!
Is “Normally’ even in your vocabulary? I should say not. Thank you!
I was completely with you until “His vacant eyes slid into darkness.” I guess I shoulda made that left in Albuquerque.
The beginning of the story transcends poetic at times (favorite line was not about pixie dust but instead: “tattoos of the Sistine Chapel embedded on your heart.”) and from there drops into “vulgar” (not the “obscene” definition but the “common” one) – “you’ll be on the other side of dirt soon” – without missing a beat. The contrast unifies the story rather than dividing it. But I didn’t follow the ending.
Others did, though, so I’m pretty sure it’s just me.
Thanks Mac. I’ve always enjoyed your keen observations; the way you can analyze a storyline, its content. I’d like to see more of this on the site. I did change the ending number of times. After my critique group read it, it seems the consensus was ‘this ending’, which seem to lift their eyebrows.
These few words kept me riveted. Of course my favorite poetic lines are: “My heart poured through my nose. Fear dragged me over the sharp edges of memories sealed in a coffin . ..
I handcuffed my tears to heaven’s gate… praying for his immediate return” On this Memorial Day I am completely taken with love lost. What shouts out to me Kyle are these words, “Love burst then dribbled to earth, along with the evening fireworks. Loss can be crisp, clear, sudden.” Great work!