Flash in the Pan

A Quarterly Posting at Tiny Lights

First Encounter

by Kathleen Lynch

I never thought I would be able wait that long. There were few virtues that were bestowed upon me to begin with, and patience was definitely not one of them. But I waited, and time crawled by on its belly across the platitudes of my mind. I waited. The clocked ticked and tocked, repeatedly drumming like a relentless faucet into the not quite stainless steel sink of my life.

The years quickly relented, and it seemed like I was destined to be alone, and a quiet cloud of resolve blanketed me. Years of wearing of this hollow, empty halo carved time upon my cheeks, and drained the shine from my eyes. Until the day I found out about you. That was the day the tide rushed through me, and drowned my heart with the promise of love and possibility.

I still had to wait. I had not met you yet, but this instinctual orgasm overwhelmingly took control of me body and soul. I knew it was a match. I knew we were to be forever connected and that no circumstance conjured up in the minds of the mocking gods would separate us. The waiting was painful.

I kept imagining what you would look like when I finally saw you. That suspended moment when I first would gaze into your eyes, and run my hands across your face. I knew I would spend hours staring through you, and that although we were two people, we would become on a transverse level, one soul. This intersecting of ‘being' astounded me and I waited.

The day was slowly approaching when were to finally meet. It was excruciating. It was blinding anticipation and the only thing that made such a journey even possible, was the knowledge that I was finally going to meet you at the end of it. I endured living fifteen million Christmas mornings at seven years old all at once. I found myself weak-kneed and sweating, twitching, trying to reach down deep, just to gain the voice to utter a sound. Then you appeared, and when I finally locked you in my gaze, after that eternity of time that passed without you, when you were there—tangible—when I was able to see your eyes, I swallowed you with a smile that would melt a iceberg. Ha! You are the Titanic of my soul!!

"It's a boy"! the doctor cried out as he passed to me my son.

Kathleen Lynch

Farmington, Maine

Fourth Flash

Care Packages by Betty Winslow
Home by Kathleen Lynch
Tres Hermanas by Ken Rodgers
Friday Night by Charles Markee
Vernal Desire by Annie Scott
Forgetting by Christine Falcone
A Blessing Of Sweeping by Ginger Child

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