(Author’s note: Well, I did it. I got the full-time job. This means a little more security, and means a little more stability for my writing schedule. I am hoping to be back up to speed fully. Also, my health has taken a turn for the better, so I am celebrating. Enjoy today’s fictioneers.)
20 years passed since I left high school. I did things many of my classmates didn’t, in that time.
I left Minnesota, I left the United States, I left the Western Hemisphere, and the Northern too.
The funny thing is: I missed some of my classmates.
Tarik, the funny man of my choir days, keeps Minnesota’s air pure.
Dave’s doing great farm work in the Dakotas. Margot is keeping America’s workers safe. Adrienne is helping people achieve their best, and Chad’s keeping the mail moving.
Some of our paths chosen, some chosen for us. But for one weekend, we are together.
Oh hai thar! It’s a-me! And the school that I used to go to.
(Author’s note: I am hoping to be posting more in the upcoming summer season. Especially since I won’t have TV to watch, and hopefully I won’t be tested and tired more than I am already. Enjoy tonight’s music and fiction!)
Melinda Charles swiveled her head around as she ran, keeping an eye out for anyone who may be trying to report or record her moves. She knew that her dad would be keeping tabs on her, and really didn’t want to see herself kept locked up in her house.
Locked up for love, she mused, Sounds like a great song title.
The 17-year old knew that her legs could take her far, in distance and in life. She was a medal winning medium-distance runner in track and field, having endurance to carry her for miles. Yet her legs were also toned, exuding feminine strength and allowing her to receive offers to do leg modeling ads after graduation. Legs that could take her far also drove the guys at school wild.
Half a mile gone. Not too long now.
She paced herself as she ran, reaching back every so often to remove the wedge of her shorts from her bum. Beads of sweat were starting to form on her neck, soaking into her shirt with every pounding of her feet. Fenceposts marked out a 1-2 beat, a visual reminder of how rhythmic she was moving.
The afternoon sun shone upon her face, the glistening sweat making her face glow, and softening the shape of her nose and chin. To her, nature was working its magic to put its own makeup on her as she ran. She had some time to see if the effects would work, but hope was welling in her heart.
One mile down. One to go.
She thought back to the day, over a year ago, when she met this young man. She started thinking about how wrong she was at first sight of him. He looked like the stereotypical nerd, head buried in his comic books, a 17-year-old with unruly brown hair and coke-bottle glasses. She didn’t realize that under that exterior lay a man with a heart of gold, and a passion for music.
She didn’t realize it until one blustery day in October.
—
She remembered that she forgot her hoodie at home, and couldn’t go back and get it without being late for school. With the temperatures plummeting by the minute, she shivered while walking on her way.
“Melissa!”
She turned around and saw him. She immediately started to groan, not wanting to interact with Mr. Coke-Bottle Glasses.
“What are you doing without a coat?” he asked her.
She turned to the side, cheeks flushed.”I forgot it at home. Didn’t think it was going to be this cold this quick.”
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a green hoodie.
“Here. You can use mine for today. It’s Jupiter Green.”
She looked at him, in disbelief.
“Why should I?”
“Because if you don’t, you’ll get sick. You get sick, we won’t have you ready for the upcoming basketball season.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you getting sick. It’d make me sad.”
She stared at him in disbelief, but grabbed the hoodie. Wrapping herself in it, she realized that she was quite cold.
“Thank you.”
“When you’re finished with it, you can give it back.”
She started to jog away from him and head towards school, her schoolbag striping her hands red from pressure.
He started to walk down the street, and for only a second, as he looked up from his shoes, he noticed Melissa looking back at him, before disappearing around a corner.
—
Half-mile left. Time to do a little diversionary work.
Melissa took a sharp left across the street, running into the woods and down a path that seemed to have little foot traffic. Hearing a short screech behind her, she smirked as she picked up the speed. The diversion was going to make it a little longer to make it to her destination, but it would keep her father’s guard off her back until she arrived there.
The woods opened up into a grassy field, where she followed a lesser worn trail that followed the wood line. She remembered the April day when things changed for her.
—
Early April, and the first of three track meets at her school had come around. When track athletes heard the name Melissa Charles, they knew that there was trouble coming. Getting ready for the 4-by-800 relay, she started to prep herself. The day was still cool, and she wore the dark green hoodie that she had received many months back.
“Hey, Makoto!”
She looked around, the voice familiar in her mind. She looked and saw him again, this time waving. She smiled, as she walked over to the fence separating the fans in the stands from the athletes.
“Well, hey there, stranger. What’s with the Makoto thing?”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides.
“You’re tall, you’re wearing green, you got long legs and you have a fighter’s attitude. You’re basically Makoto Kino, Sailor Jupiter.”
“That’s a first. Do you always charm your friends with comparisons to anime characters?”
“Only people I have respect for. Besides, the word’s out. You’ll likely hear it a lot more.”
“You didn’t…”
“I didn’t. Brian Parker did. And I don’t even like him.”
She laughed out loud, a hearty laugh that got the attention of one of her teammates.
“I guess that means I should probably start looking the part, right?”
She pulled back her hoodie. Her average brown hair now had auburn tints to it, and was put up in a high ponytail with a greenish-ball hair band.
He had taken a sip of soda, when it suddenly spat out to the side. His eyes bugged out.
“You….whoa. What prompted this?”
“You, silly!” she giggled, as she started to jog in place.
As he was about to open his mouth, the call for 4 x 800 relay runners came over the loudspeakers. He smiled at her, as he walked over to a small group of classmates.
The first runners took their mark at the line, and with a shot, they took off. Melissa, as the anchor runner, stood off to the side as her classmates watched. Two runners from another high school tied for the lead after the first two exchanges. As the third runners took off from their lines, Melissa put herself into her lane. Her sweet spot was lane #3, and today was her day. She waited, as her teammate pulled past the second place runner, though she was lengths behind the first place runner. As the first place runner got the baton, Melissa’s teammate gave her the sign to start moving.
The baton hit her hands, and Melissa was off with a shot.
One-two-one-two-one-two-ma-ko-to-ma-ko-to
The mantra in her head suddenly switched, and she listened closely. The sound of her new nickname resounded through the stands when she took the first corner. A faint smile peaked on her face, as she increased her strides.
“Ma-ko! Ma-ko! Ma-ko!” said the boy, smiling as Brian Parker and others started chanting.
Taking the third and final corner, she was within touching distance of the first place runner. Taking inspiration from the character whose name she was adopting, she put lightning in gear and increased her speed in the last sprint to the finish. Pounding, pounding, her feet pounded like kettle drums in time with the chants.
One second, she pulled up to the side of her opponent.
The next second, she stretched her legs and chest further.
The last second, the starter pistol went off in the air. The entire Charter Oaks High School spectator section went up in cheers!
Melissa “Makoto” Charles had won the race by a half a foot.
She looked over to the stands as she slowed, and saw the boy, her friend, smiling at her.
— 500 feet. Just need to hit that last stride.
She weaved her way around trees, making sure that she kept her opposition in her peripheral sight if she could. Looking straight, she could barely make out a flat wooden fence in the distance.
“If you could only see me, honey,” she muttered, as she dodged trees to make it closer. She got closer, knowing she was less than 100 feet from freedom.
80 feet, she swiveled her head around and saw nothing.
60 feet, she saw his shape rushing towards the fence.
30 feet, she was getting herself ready to jump onto and over the fence. She saw him stop suddenly right at the edge of the fence.
She felt a painful prick right below the back of her knee and stumbled to the ground. Within a few seconds, her leg started to go numb. She felt someone jump onto leaves and land near her head. As she looked backwards, she saw three men running towards her. She was sat up, and her head turned towards her beau, who was looking at her without his trademark coke-bottle glasses.
“I’ll help you in. Those guys won’t do anything.”
The men approached, and yelled at the two young people.
“You! Boy! Get your hands off her!”
It was her father, the man who tried to rule her life with an iron fist.
She looked up at her boy, and slowly dragged herself to the fence. She pulled herself up, standing on one leg. She looked at him, eyes focused and steely. .
“Get back over the fence.”
“I can handle him.”
“My fight. Let me do it.”
Melissa’s father growled as he continued to walk towards her. Her beau returned to his property, while she faced her father.
“You’re coming with me young la-”
Before he could finish, she fired a taser at him. As he rode the lightning, she glared down at him.
“I. Am. Not.”
He whined and growled as the electricity stopped. His nerves on fire, he laid there for a time. His men stood near him, but stayed back from the scene.
“Dad, I’ve had enough.”
He took a sharp breath as she spoke.
“You have been restricting everything I’ve been doing. The one time I get something I want, you try to take it away. You got me kicked off the track team because you didn’t want me hanging around with him. You monitored my cell phone, because you wanted to know if I was with him.”
“I only…wanted to keep…you safe…”
“From what, Dad? Someone whose dad you put into a locker during high school? Someone who has very little to do with his life?!”
Her dad grimaced, as he slowly sat up.
“I got the story from him, Dad. I found out why you had him followed. You were afraid that he was going to use me to get to you in revenge. But with everything you did to try to protect me, you forgot one piece of information: He hasn’t talked with his dad for 10 years.”
“That’s…a lie…”
“NO! When he says dad, he means his stepdad. If you weren’t so shallow minded, Dad, you would have actually known this.”
“That’s…”
“Shut it. Just…stop, Dad. When he told me about all of it, he asked me if I was with him because of revenge. I told him the truth, that it was because he was a nice guy, even if I had it ingrained in me that girls like me could never be with a nerd.”
“You little…”
“I told you to shut up, Admiral!” she screamed, pointing at him. “You do not get to talk until I am done!”
She slowly lifted her legs and tried to slowly scale the wooden fence.
“Dad, you showed me how to fight for what’s mine. And that’s what I’m doing right now. He loves me, and showed me that he loved me that first day with the hoodie, the green hoodie that you absolutely hated.”
She lifted herself again, sitting on the top of the fence with her long legs dangling down.
“The hate that you had for him and me became the love that we have. He’s my nerd, I’m his Makoto. If anyone is responsible for that, it’s you. ”
Her father spat on the ground, as he started to stand. The pain was evident and obvious on his face. The man with him and another man walked over and lifted him to his feet. Slinging his arms over their shoulders, they held him up to look at her.
“Daddy, I love you. You need to give me time, but I will be back.”
“And yet, you run…”
“No. I’m 18 tomorrow. I have made a decision to not be with you. I will come back to you, a woman and someone who can give you the respect you deserve, in time. But you have to earn the respect of a father. You don’t have it because of what you’ve been doing.”
Her father just glared at her, as she flipped her legs over the top of the fence. She looked back at him.
“Dad, he and I are hunters. We’ve been searching for each other and found…us. Now let me live, and let us live.”
Her father just stared, as they turned to walk him out of the woods.
Melissa looked at her father, as he walked away, and slowly lowered herself off the fence and into the waiting arms of her man.
“You really are like Jupiter, Melissa.”
“Because I stood up and fought?”
“Because you took charge and won the day.”
The young man looked out at his property, and smiled.
Melissa turned his head and gave him a tender kiss. After a few seconds, their lips parted. He moved to carry her, until he heard the “uhn-uh”.
“Nope. I’m walking off this Novocaine. You’re gonna just have to wait for me.”
“Can I at least help you walk up to the house?”
“You can lean on me,” she smirked
“Lean on you?”
They laughed, as they hobbled their way up to his house.
(Author’s Note: The first Fictioneers of 2016, and I’m doing something a little different: Unique name, same great music and fiction you’ve come to love and enjoy! Next week’s writing will come from Cheongju, South Korea.)
“I never though I’d see fireworks like this!”
“You mean, from ten thousand feet up in a jet?”
“This was a great idea, Mitch. You really made my New Year’s!”
“And I would like to make many more of these with you. Though, if you told me 9 years ago that I was going to be taking my worst enemy from high school up in my own private jet to celebrate New Year’s above Sydney…”
“And who would have though that I would actually be dating my sworn enemy in the first place.”
“Well, Melinda, they say people who hate each other sometimes really have too much love.”
“Wish I knew that back then. Would–“
Pia Nagala was incredible. No one who looked upon her would have doubted it.
Among the world of the urban man, she would have been called “on fleek”, or looking very fine. The air about her was captivating, and she held your gaze constantly. For any man, she would be considered as close to perfect as one could get.
The guy on her arm, however, would be another story.
Charles Trainor would not be considered “on fleek”. He was a good looking man, but unremarkable compared to Pia. A lot of people wondered why they ended up together, first in a touch-and-go relationship, then much more steady. Some even warned Charles to be careful, that he wouldn’t rush too far and be too focused.
“So, what do you plan to do now?”
The question from Darryl, one of Charles’s good friends, was pointed. It cut home quickly, without much of a fuss, and Charles shrinked down in his chair at it.
“Plan to do about what?” he responded.
“About Pia. You two have been dating for a while, and now there is full on, undisputed evidence that she’s been involved in some really nasty behaviors.”
“Yeah, but you’re the one who gave me that evidence.”
Darryl’s olive green eyes narrowed as he looked at Charles. He was correct, it was his investigation of Pia that brought up the evidence of her dalliances with tarot readers and illicit sex acts in places that Charles would never go to. He looked over at the manila envelope, sitting lazily on an end table, the contents of the package spilling out onto the floor.
The color photos that were visible had showed the chestnut haired woman with a blissful look on her face as she was leaving a tarot parlor. Another photo, laying on the floor and facing towards the ceiling, had the oblivious woman walking towards a warehouse door. She was wearing skintight clothing that showed off her endowments, uncharacteristic of the normally demure young lady commonly found on Charles’s arm.
“Pictures don’t lie, Chuck. She’s been playing you this whole time.”
“But, how can it be that she would do this? I mean, she was the one who helped get me straight with my father. She was the one who helped me get in touch with guys who were able to keep me accountable about my binge drinking. Heck, she was able to help me find you!”
Darryl’s face grew a slight bit more red, more from embarrassment than anger. Again, a true statement, as Pia introduced Darryl and Charles at a dinner party a few months back. They had become very close, due to their higher age and their similar tastes in music and food.
“C’mon, Chuck, you know me. You know my record, and you know that I wouldn’t lie about Pia.”
Charles ran his hands up his face and through his straight, thick black hair. The expression on his face was like a man who was about to crack up. His neck muscles tensed as the factoid bounced through his head like a small bouncy ball.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping down in defeat.
“You’re right. You wouldn’t lie about her.”
“I don’t like saying things like that, man. I know she was something very special and she made you feel really good.”
“You’re right. She did. But, I know that she has other…”
He stopped for a moment, shaking his head as he thought about the depravity of it all.
“Seriously? That warehouse was a sex club?”
“Yeah. The PI that went in there came back and showed me the video that was in there. I had to tell him to turn it off after the first minute…”
“Yeah, yeah. No need to recount those details.”
“So, as I asked, what now?”
“I am not sure what exactly to do about it.”
Charles looked around the beautiful living room that was part of his new place. He gazed at the crystal light that hung over the living room table, remarking in his mind about how beautiful it made the rest of the living room.
The new place was possible because of her help. A fact that Charles knew could be a big problem if things blew up.
“It might just be good to get it into the open and just break it off with her cleanly,” Darryl said, taking a sip of his dark Colombian roast coffee.
“But, that could mean trouble. Remember, she’s pretty influential among my friends.”
“Duh! I know that! Remember that most of them are my friends, too!”
As Charles started to stand, the screech of tires emanated into the house. Darryl looked at Charles for the briefest of moments, locking eyes with him, before he bolted from the chair to the pictures. As Darryl furiously scrambled to put all the evidence back into the envelope, Charles paced back and forth.
The slam of the car door lightly reverberated into the house. The wrinkles around Charles’s eyes became more pronounced with each second’s passing.
Charles’s heart panicked and quickened as he heard the keys slide into the door to the garage.
The door opened, and Pia walked in. As she closed the door, her green A-line skirt twirled around her, barely showing her knees. She turned around, her fuzzy white sweater covering her torso and arms, holding a bag of groceries.
She smiled as she looked at Charles.
“Charlie! You’re here! Can you help me with these groceries?”
Charles’s face froze in a look of petrified shock. He could not move, could not blink, could not do anything. When Pia looked him in the face, her infectious smile lessened.
“Charlie, are you okay?”
Charles blinked, then smiled bashfully.
“I’m sorry, Pia. I had some bad news come to me today that caused me some issues. I was just talking with Darryl about it when you came in.”
He walked over to her, picked up the bag from her hands, and started to unpack them. Pia just smiled and bit her lip as she walked back to the garage. After a few minutes, and putting the bags away, she put her hands around his waist. She pressed herself into his back.
“So, dear, what was the bad news?”
“Oh, you remember that job I applied for? The one at the newspaper?”
“Yeah, you were happy about that one.”
“I didn’t get it. They called me just before you got here, and told me that I had excellent references and information.”
“And other people were more what they were looking for, right?”
“Exactly.”
Pia turned Charles around with her hands and gazed into his caramel brown eyes. Her own deep, dark eyes showed sincerity.
“Don’t worry. God’s on your side, and you will get that job. He provides.”
“I know he does, Pia. I just hope that something comes soon. It’s really gonna be hard to deal with if I can’t find something here to provide for my living expenses.”
“He’s already come through for you before, right?”
“Yeah, he has. I just really wish there weren’t so many other issues to deal with.”
She laid her head against his chest, as Darryl carefully walked into the kitchen.
“Hey there, Pia.”
“Heya, Darryl. How’s everything been?”
“Eh, not much to say. Rita is doing alright, but she’s mostly home for now.”
Pia looked into his eyes, giving a solemn nod.
“I gotta run, Charlie,” he said, taking one last look at his friend. A friend who was locked in an embrace with a temptress.
He looked at Pia, sweet and innocent Pia, as the images of her in revealing clothing flashed past his eyes. His face became stony, and he quickly walked out of the kitchen. Neither Pia nor Charles did anything until the door slammed.
Pia was the first to break the silence.
“Is it just me, or did it seem like he had something wrong with him?” she asked, as she turned towards the stove.
“Nah. I think he’s just been under stress with the children at school.”
“I thought he liked his job.”
“They take a lot out of him and today was his first real day off.”
“That would explain it. So, what do you want for dinner?”
Charles was about to say something when she turned around and looked at him, with the usual and beautiful smile she always gave him. He worked his hardest not to show anything but an emotion of gratitude.
“Oh, whatever you wish. I am more interested in just resting than watching you cook tonight.”
“Aww,” she pouted, making herself look more enticing than before, “I was hoping you’d help me.”
Charles nervously laughed, looking everywhere for a way out.
“That news really took me hard. I think I’m just going to go into the living room and lie down.”
“Okay!” she beamed, “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”
As Charles left the room, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“I really don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep this up…”
[Author’s Note: If you’re interested in reading the first two parts of this saga, you can click the link in parentheses for part 1 (I Will Wait For You), and THIS link for Part II (Guardian Angel)
Waiting For A Girl Like You
(aka I Will Wait For You, Part 3.)
by Miles Rost
So, when we last left me, it was about three months after my first meeting with a being I called my “future wife spirit”, who slowly became my “guardian wife spirit”. By now, some people have been wondering a bit about me, like my friend Paul. He was the first person to ask me what was wrong, especially the day when I called in sick to work after my second meeting with her. I gave him a cock and bull story about how I stayed up too late and was unhappy with how things were going. I suspect he knows something. But that’s beside any point right now.
Another three months passed by, and by this time I was pretty much feeling like I was going out of my mind. I went to my pastor again, and told him what happened and that I was not in a cult, like he thought the first time. This time, he actually went out of his way to understand what exactly was going on. And he pretty much told me, in no uncertain terms, to “get in the Bible, get reading, and get prepared. If this is going to happen, you need to be as well versed in things as you can.” Hence the long sessions where I got home from work, turned on my music, and started to read voraciously. Even if I didn’t want to, I read.
I know what you’re thinking: You shouldn’t have to. If you know God’s hand is in this, you should be able to trust your gut and do it. Well, for those who say such a thing, I recite the motto of the Boy Scouts: “Always be prepared.”
So, to count, we’re at 6 months after I first met my guardian wife spirit. After a few months more of preparation and feeling pumped, that’s when things started to go downhill again. I was laid off from my job for being a millstone, and found another position working at a local library. I couldn’t understand why I had to change careers and didn’t really think about things.
One Wednesday afternoon, I was at the end of a 10 hour shift of shelving books and sorting shelves where people misfiled their books after reading them. With about 10 minutes left before I was able to go, I was barely keeping my eyes on my cart or where I was going. I kept walking until I heard an “ow!” come from in front of me. And me, paying no attention whatsoever, just kept trying to move forward.
A few seconds later, I realized that I was pushing my cart into a young lady.
“I am so sorry, ma’am. I really am so sorry,” I said, without even looking at her. I picked up a book that fell in front of her feet, and opened my eyes.
This young lady wore deep dark blue pumps on her feet, which would not be fascinating in itself until I slowly looked upwards.
Her legs were cut pretty well, feminine yet still strong. She wore a blue skirt, which hid her thighs and other things I didn’t need to see at this time, and a green silk blouse. She was curvy, yet was not overly weighty. She definitely was on the high end of the pretty scale at this point, until she peered her head down my way. She looked down at me with bright blue eyes and shoulder length blue hair.
Wow, this one is quite the interesting person, was what went through my mind, among the obvious thoughts that she walked out of an anime or that she did knock me out and that this was merely a dream or a figment of my imagination.
It wasn’t.
“Don’t worry about it. I bump into people all the time,” she said, looking at me with a look that pretty much said, “Iiinteresting”.
“I’m close to being off of my shift, and I’ve been here a while today. So, look, I apologize for what just happened.”
“It’s okay. It’s not everyday someone attempts to run you over with a library cart,” she playfully replied, ending her sentence with a giggle.
That giggle!
For a moment, a sheer fraction of a moment, my thought drifted back to my “guardian wife spirit”, and the last time we met. I remembered how she giggled at my statement about how I thought she was just a figment of my imagination as a result of eating a pizza that I had not eaten since then.
And for that split second, I could have swore I saw her spirit make an appearance and say in a bright voice, “Hi!”
A split second after that, well…let’s just say bodies hit the floor. Namely mine.
I woke up two hours after taking a header into my library cart. I was laying on a couch in the back room, and I slowly awoke from unconsciousness. I felt a bit groggy, and looked around.
“Ugh, where am I?”
“You’re in the back room of the library,” I heard a familiar voice say.
I sat up, and saw her. The blue haired, cool-colored, remarkably beautiful woman that I nearly ran over was sitting at the end of the couch.
“I decided to sit and wait for you to wake up. I feel bad for what happened. So I waited,” she said, with a sweet yet mournful look on her face.
I looked at her, and just smiled.
“I’m sorry for causing more trouble. I…can’t explain it, I guess I may be clumsy.”
She giggled again, which basically confirmed it. This was who my guardian angel was.
“Look, uh…what’s your name?”
“Claudia. Claudia Hamilton.”
That’s quite a beautiful name, I thought to myself.
“Well, Claudia, I feel like I’ve caused you a lot of hassle and trouble. I am off my shift, and should have been home by now. But, would you mind if I bought you some dinner?”
Claudia was a slight bit flustered at this, from what I could tell. So, I decided to tell her the truth if she accepted my dinner date request.
“It would be a thank you for sticking next to me even though you didn’t have to.”
She smiled, and gave a polite bow.
“I accept. I don’t usually accept dinner dates, but I think now it may be a good idea.”
We got out of the library, and I was pretty good to drive. So we both took separate cars and met at a local diner spot near the library. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was close and the food would be good enough for both of us, especially with my head being a magnet for metal.
Both of us went in and we sat down. We made small talk, getting to know each other slowly as we waited for our pancakes and bacon. I found out that she was the traffic controller for a local radio station group who also loved watching anime. She also told me she was a believer, and that she was looking for good fiction to read when we met each other. She was also a big fan of the band Foreigner.
This sparked an idea in my head. Ohhhhhh…if this worked…
I told her to give me a moment, walked over to the jukebox in the corner, and picked what I thought would be an appropriate song for this occasion, done by her favorite band.
As I sat down, the opening strains of what I would hope to think was Claudia’s favorite song started to flow through the diner. That’s right, nothing like Thomas Dolby on keyboards to whet your appetite, or to bust open everything in the world. (For note, you can start the song here)
Now, remember, I said that if she accepted my date request, I’d tell her the truth. And with the opening drums and keys of the song, I basically laid it out for her.
“Claudia, do you believe that God has a plan for us?”
“Of course I do.”
“I am going to tell you something incredibly crazy, that you’re probably going to throw something in my face and walk out of here after I say it.”
Claudia raised one of her eyebrows, and gave a motion with her hands that said, “Proceed.”
“Claudia, I don’t think our meeting was by chance.”
She looked at me, still shocked and with her mouth agape.
“I was visited by a spirit. I didn’t know who she was, or what she was, but she said that she was waiting for me. And when you giggled, it was the same exact giggle she gave.”
Claudia shook her head and started blinking madly.
“So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that my spirit came to you and told you to wait for me?”
“That’s about the way it is.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I made a promise that once I met you and confirmed it, I would be up front and honest about everything. And no matter how weird, I had to say it.”
Claudia’s eyes shifted to the right, and I could tell she was conflicted about things.
“The only reason I am even believing this right now is because of the dreams I’ve had. 7 months ago and four months ago, to be exact. I was told that I would find my future husband soon, but not in the way that I supposedly came to you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. At least she believed me this far.
“So, what should we do about this?” I asked her.
Claudia snerked, and looked at me.
“I think we should eat, get to know each other, trade cell numbers and Facebook names, then part for the night.”
“That sounds good. So, let me start by asking: Why Foreigner? And what is with the blue hair?”
Music and Fiction 