Micro Story

When.

            He ran his fingers through his hair.  It seemed like it was only yesterday.  He ran his fingers through his hair.  He ran them in the way a mother runs her fingers through her hair when finds out the IRS has taken all of her money, and her husband is screwing half the neighborhood.  He is not running them in a suave or cool way.  It was just a minute ago.  Had it even really happened?  It did.

            “I knew I should have brought my umbrella today”, he said.  “Oh stop being a wuss.”  He proceeded to punch him lightly on the shoulder.  He had gotten used to this. How come he had never hit harder he thought, dwelling upon the thought as if Alex Trebek was asking him the double jeopardy.  “I’m glad he doesn’t though, that would really hurt.  He had done it to him since-“Hm”, he said this suddenly, realizing he was talking to him.  “You weren’t listening to me again were you?”  “Whatever, you’re always staring off into space.  You know, I’d like to know what goes on in tha-oh, there’s my ride.”  “You sure you don’t want a ride?”  “You’ll get sick if you stand out in this freaking monsoon any longer.”  He hesitated.  He said no.  His friend left.  He was alone.  “Why did I do that”, he thought.  He was never the type to make decisions upon impulse.  Impulse is what led humans astray, after all didn’t Adam take the fruit without thinking?  Why are people impulsive?

            He stood there.  He didn’t know why.  He could be walking now.  One mile that way, half one after that one building, they all look the same, and a few steps to cool drink and couch.  He began to take a step, but was interrupted.  “You want to share?”

            She was there.  Umbrella in hand.  Brown hair, blue eyes, pretty, and something else.  It took him a minute to respond.   “Yeah, um, yeah sure if that’s cool.”  “Well if it wasn’t cool, I wouldn’t have offered.”  “Right.” 

            The silence was broken.  The telephone rang.  “Hey, yeah, mhm, sure, ha-ha no, alright eight it is”.

            Was that one really important?  It wasn’t the first time, that one was probably the twentieth, or twenty first, or…

            “Yeah I had a good day, thanks for asking” she said.  “I found out that…but it’s alright because it turns out I got the promotion!”  “That’s incredible!” “I always knew you’d get it someday.”  “You’re the best, I love you.”  “I love you more.”

            “Why are my hands clammy?”  “Are they clammy?”  “Ok, you’re over reacting.” Just take a breath.”  You’re holding her hand, it’s not like you haven’t held a girl’s hand before, yeah but it was a while ago and besides this is the first time we’ve held hands, and-Are you alright?”  You look a little pale.”  I’m fine, ha-ha.”  He let out a nervous laugh.  Why was he so…augh, around her?  There was something there, and he knew it.  He just at the time couldn’t put his finger on it.

            They both knew, it was special.  It was incredible.  It was indescribable.  Unfathomable.  It had been there since hello.   It’s been there since goodbye.  They both knew it.  What do I do know?  

            The silence was broken.  The phone.  It rang.  Caller I.D.  It was her.  He picked up.  No hesitation.  She asked him.  He knew she would ask him.  He paused.  He hesitated.  Impulsiveness was a bad trait to have.  People need to take a minute more often.  People are too impatient.  He formed the thought.  He was a mess.  Broken down as a human.  Torn, limb from limb, spiritually, emotionally, every thing but physically.   This was the day.  He knew it was coming.  Could he take anymore?  He had a choice.  He could do the right thing for him and her, or take the chance and do the right thing for himself and her.  Which one?  He formed the thought, and with hesitation, answered.