Stanzas: Monthly Chapbooks February 2015: Anti-Love - Page 22
Two Ordiinary People
now fell freely around them. Though we'd started our steady thaw into Spring, this
was not unusual weather for February. Snow is still greeted with gleeful surprise;
where logic is sold to the beggar for a fleeting moment of bliss. Samantha and Jack,
two utterly ordinary people, though I guess that was the point.
They met by chance, both waiting for a coffee in O'Brien's, a small hideaway off
Denmark street they happened to frequent. She ordered a black coffee and took the
corner seat by the window. He delayed until her order was called, nodding to the
barista as he picked up her coffee and brought it with his own.
'Here you go' he said, boldly sitting himself down beside her. 'I'd tell you that I'm
rich, but I'm not. Or that I'm a philanthropist who fosters kittens, but I don't. I haven't
spoken to my mother in years – No, that one's a lie, I spoke to her this morning.'
Samantha laughed into her sleeve, her cheeks turning a shade to shame a rose. Long
red hair tied back with her crossword-pen and a small book of puzzles on the table.
Her blue eyes matched her sapphire gemstone earnings, something Jack noticed in
earnest. 'But you are cute and I wanted to say hi.' Her shy smile set the scene.
They talked for hours reciting youthful tales either should be too embarrassed to
recount. She wrote her number on the back of a napkin, her lipstick still stained his
cheek when he called her that night. Two dates turned to three as three dates soon
became five. Both keeping count until they shared their first night together. When he
knew, he knew.
‘I’m a flavour?!’ Samantha replied bemused and flustered for just a moment. She
gazed at him, warning Jack to play fair. Ordinarily she’d just brush his bold advances
aside but here and now, his breath on her bare shoulders, left her feeling open and
aware. She hadn’t the energy to pose any resistance.
‘Would you rather be a texture then?’ He smirked, leaning in to tidy a stray strand
of hair behind her ear. His warm stare stilled her. Flustered and embarrassed, she bit
her lower lip as Jack’s hand caressed her arm. His fingertips soothing her skin.
‘No, I just – Shut up, you,’ she said sticking out her tongue. Her blue eyes awash
with affection. Even after all this time, Samantha still didn’t know how to deal with
him. Though she know that was one of those things she loved most about him. He
always knew just how to assuage her shipwrecked soul. That time he took her to
Dingle bay, three sandwiches just so they could fight over the spare, a single bottle
of ‘76 Cabernet Sauvignon flanked by two crystal glasses bought during a tour of
Waterford Crystal. That was where he proposed to her. On one knee, asking for one
hand, for one eternal promise.