Striations
by
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The light snowfall from last night melted under the morning sun and Sandy and I walked arm in arm over the soft wet thaw. There was a taste of spring in the air, even though it would not fully arrive for yet another month. Our steps fell into sync throwing long shadows over the white lawns as we made our way toward the park beside the lake. The traffic was light for a Friday morning and a few carloads of slowpoke students glided past unhurried on the road. A dirty frozen daiquiri spray fell just short of the sidewalk and blotted the clean snow at the curb. Sandy leaned into me as we passed the flower shop in town. The door opened and an elderly gentleman stepped out with a cane in one hand and a bouquet of pansies in the other. I could smell the remaining Valentine’s Day roses turning balmy and then brittle inside. His wrinkled face bent into a smile when he saw us and I watched Sandy nod and smile back. She turned her head placing it on my shoulder and watched him walk away behind us. For a time I steered us both down the wet sidewalk. She gripped my arm a little tighter with her right forearm and squeezed my biceps with her left hand for a long while after we passed him. "Do you think those were for his wife or his mistress?" Sandy brought her head back around and watched the side of my face for a reaction. "Hopefully both," I laughed and then she laughed too. I loved us laughing then and tried to put it down somewhere deep so I would know it always. Ice melted from the roofs and dripped down over the gutters, the droplets glinting proud in the sun. We crossed the street and walked along the muddy gravel path beside the creek that flowed cold and chunky from the lake. I watched the tall tree branches divide the sun over our heads and heard our shoes squish and crunch together on the path. "You will have to choose," I said while still looking up at the sun. "I won't. I love you both." She answered quickly and I knew our thoughts were the same. "Then this thing can't go on. One day I'll want more." I lowered my head and looked at her black hair and cool face. A sunspot had burned into my eyes and it settled with my gaze over her face. I blinked once but her cheeks were still bright and gold in the morning light. She was quiet for a few minutes and I saw that she was thinking. "Isn't this enough?" "For a thousand lifetimes," I whispered loud enough for her to hear.
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About the Book
Clair Heilson, a college student, comes to terms with the events of a new millennium, both personal and worldly. It spans four dynamic years of the protagonist’s experiences at college. The reader follows Clair as he struggles with an imploding family, the love of his best friend’s girl, binge drinking, and a world of fear and terrorism. At the sake of his sanity, Clair digs for a purpose and meaning to everything. The reader decides whether or not he was successful.
About the Author
C.D. Harmon is currently finishing a Bachelors degree in English literature. He lives with his family in Northwest Pennsylvania.