The Nod - short story

He was a rare breed. His exterior was elusive and complex. His attention span was as nonexistent as her imperfections through his biased longing eyes. The boy was mesmerised. Hooked on her like a drug addict from the moment she gave him that nod. The nod, that still after five hours left him in a puddle of confusion. He had to know her. He was determined to get from acquaintance to something deeper, a lot deeper.

She was metres in front of him, he was following. He was dedicated, determined to know more. He was addicted from the beginning, from the title, the nod.

She walked with unbelievable grace, without a doubt she was flawless, he thought. No one had ever grabbed his attentions like she did. She grabbed it with her delicate slender fingers and rushed away. So he had to follow her home, know her address, know where to post his love letters dripping with the undying love he had for her. The foolish love. She was walking so casually and she came to an abrupt stop like his heart. He anticipated on her turning around, but she didn't. He was excited and he had been swimming in his fantasy land where their future love was already in play. A black cat. He realised she had paused for this revoltingly, deadly cat. Why wasn't she backing away? Why wasn't she screaming? he pondered. The boy highly disliked felines, he was a dog person. He thought she was too. In his daydreams, she and he were walking their dogs together at the beach with the breathtaking sunset setting an exquisite scene. But he walking a dog and she walking a cat would not do. That picture was not perfect. She patted the cat as if it was a lovable marshmallow. Was she blind? he considered. Cats were disgusting through his eyes. She was a cat person, he had to accept this. He put his head down and had his eyes focused on the uneven floor. He continued to follow her from behind, blending in with the grey crowd, hoping to not appear as a stalker without a life. But her beauty had consumed him. He was desperate to know more about this girl who changed him so drastically and so quickly. But a cat person? She can not be a cat person, he decided.

Her eyes were dark, like black holes they sucked him in and blinded him with the darkness. The boy was so sure she was the one for him. The one he never bothered to look for. And she found him, and she nodded at him. This intoxicating gesture she made was on replay for him mentally. He was convinced this thing was real.

The boy nervously hid himself behind a bush the beautiful leaves and branches covered his view of her. He could barely see her but he could see that she was approaching someone. A male. He pushed the covering vegetation away to have a clearer view of her purity. Her head slightly tipped back. It happened too fast, it was too sporadic. The nod. She had given that dream bruising stranger his nod. He could feel the build up of undesirable frustration, surprisingly it was not a pang of jealousy, it was simply a painful pinch that made him realise, his infatuation for her was as artificial as she was.

Silence

This silence is fatal. It is imprinted with this distinct loudness that I am unable to handle. It kills me more than it should. I care more than I should. I was so sure I tucked away this business. I foolishly built my confidence thick and high, thought I had it figured out. And perhaps I did. But now it's creeping right back up to strike me. It's like a bruise I developed way too quickly and I had finally reached the point where I am indifferent to it. Then this abnormal nothingness punched my internal bleeding, reminding me. Reminding me of the things I wish to avoid. This dead silence is not right. You got me used to something else and now this is what you give me. The intensity is too sporadic, it must be artificial. I remember a time when I didn't notice the silent gap. In fact it wasn't long ago at all. I tripped and fell into this pit and I'm left stuck with this unbearable silence that frustratingly highlights its presence. Making sure I can hear it, see it and feel it. I don't know why this presence and absence can bother me so much. It kicks me away from the normality. The beautifully safe normality. The time was too short. Impossible. This bridge could not have been built so quickly and broken down so quickly. But I am struggling my way through this sinking swamp called my memory, I can't recall the construction. How could this remarkable bridge we built be sabotaged so early? Why did we let the simple silence burn this bridge to devastating ashes? I fail to read and comprehend you. A little while ago, this issue would have been minor in fact completely nonexistent. This wave of frustrating emotions are suffocating and as they lead me, I feel exhausted. What triggered this burdening silence? It was as sudden as my irrational swerving path. It had no meaning, no reason but it was there. It made its position uncomfortably clear and I don't welcome this awful silence at all. I highly dislike this contrast of hot and cold. Why does this affect me? I have absolutely no reason to feel the impact of your burning heat or your frozen coldness. I was once neutral. I will find my way back.

An Episode

Every step he takes forward, she takes a step back. Together they create a remarkable and breathtaking dance filled with incredible passion tied with a unique ribbon of complexity. A dance that no one in the world can ever in all time imitate. Or even begin to understand. His initiation is mentally embraced but her overpowering rational side blocks him and everything he stands for. With him she leaps, she flies, she spins and he makes her better. He leads ever so naturally with every step and pull, flowing with perfection. She follows his lead as if her arms and feet know no better. To heaven or hell and everything in between she’d follow without a single care, as long as there was his intoxicating presence. He has a mesmerising flow to him with every step and move confusing her in too many ways. His current comes on with intensity and with a single move forward she stumbles back in complete trepidation yet their intricate dance continues to flow effortlessly with enchanting grace. She pushes back, with all the strength and might invested in her. While the moronic weak part of her desires to fall. As deep inside hidden through the layers of her cold exterior, she is aware that he is the one exception in this crowd of grey. With him she can fall. With him she will be able to allow herself to let go. With him she will be able to loosen the grips she has on herself. With him she is fearless. And she knows all of this too well. With this apparent knowledge lingering with her mentally she builds her defence. She creates a barrier with distance to keep herself from him, far from the threatening unknown. But he can read her like no other can. With every attempt of hers to lead or escape, he leads as he follows. Understanding her before she has the chance to contemplate or probe upon it. With him she can fall into the forbidden deep end and even dive with anticipation into it. He is the only one she can give her all to. And that is exactly what triggers her fear. And this sole concept alone holds her up stopping her from tripping and steadying her from any signs of a fall. A fall for him. Sporadically in their amazing unrehearsed dance, he spins her into a whirlwind of confusion. Messing around with her world and prior perspective that has only ever known stability. As faced with the terrifying unfamiliar her natural instinct tells her to do anything but welcome these feelings, these thoughts that are so tightly attached to him. His exceedingly powerful and convincing pull blurs her sense of logic with his own brand of perplexity. Falling for him will be too easy, which is why she is standing back maintaining her defensive stance. She knows she can go to magnificent dangerous heights with him. And so how can she allow it to continue knowing how unsafe it is. The higher you go, the harder you fall. She drenches her mind with all these harsh realities and facts as she blocks him from her world. She grips as tightly as she possibly can, petrified with how easily she can become vulnerable when exposed to him. This vulnerability is damaging, if not now, it will be detrimental later. But she knows she can’t allow the situation to reach that point. She can’t help but ponder upon the potential results and disasters. What if he doesn’t break her fall? What if he doesn’t catch her? But his compulsion is too strong and too tenacious, so she continues to step back with every step he takes forward.