A Memory Out Of Time

There's always wind. That day, it was gentle. Gentle, Leo remembered. And it had carried a faint scent of some or other especially sweet flower. The wind blew Nadine's hair into his face as she rested her own against his chest. She felt it heave as he inhaled. Deep Breath. The smell of her shampoo reminded him of a memory, but he wasn't sure which. He wished he had kissed her. But he understood why he couldn't. There had once been a time when he would have. But now he couldn't. And so he simply allowed himself to melt as deep into her embrace as he could. He wondered if she could feel everything he was experiencing. He closed his eyes as her's opened and closed again. She let herself sink into his arms. She wished he would kiss her. She pulled him closer and wished that he could somehow hear her thoughts. Kiss me, she thought over and over again. She knew he wouldn't. Something told her that he would soon enough, but she knew he wouldn't have done it then. She smiled, and wondered if Leo was doing the same. He caught himself smiling as he realized that they had been standing there for far too long. Five more seconds he said to himself.

Slowly, he withdrew from the hug as she instinctively did the same. Neither one of them voiced what bliss each had experienced. A light conversation followed by a prolonged goodbye, and Nadine was gone. He walked away, but couldn't help himself, and so he stole a glance back at her. She's beautiful, he thought.

The kettle stopped boiling. Clink. A teaspoon of sugar. Clink. Clink. Clink. A stir. Leo sat down and stared at the wall. At moments like these, where he finally found stillness, that is when the world would come to life around him. He would sit and watch and imagine. He imagined Nadine. There was always Nadine. He imagined she was there with him. It would be morning. He would stir from a beautiful dream, and wake up to one even more so. She would curl up deeper into his arms. He would melt into her, feel her skin against his. A shiver. The imagining ends. Leo takes a sip of tea and closes his eyes. He takes another and methodically places the cup down beside him. Before he knows it, his mind drifts. There's wind. There's always wind. A chilly, dry breeze blows through his one window and out the other, creating a continuous draft through the room. The wall blurred into darkness.

The moon was beautiful, Nadine thought. If everyone could see the moon, then surely he could too, she told herself. A shooting star. Nadine smiled. She wondered if he was thinking of her too. Nadine remembered the first time. It had been unexpected. She had just finished studying. Swoosh. Through the library doors. There were books in her arms. She knew she had to read them, but there was a world out there to conquer, and surely it was there that she would learn most, among strangers in new, strange lands. Possibly even love, she remembered thinking. She had no idea  that it was closer than she ever imagined it would be. She remembered saying hello as she passed him by. He bowed. She smiled. She almost missed it. They say to seize the day, to live for every moment and to listen to the Universe. They say to pay attention to the small gestures, and so she turned around. He stopped. She wrapped her arms around him. He was warm. He was big and hairy, but gentle and especially ... warm.

She held him and she knew she wished to never let go. But she did. He spoke, and it was music. She saw his revolution. A cigarette. She saw the fire burn in his eyes; she saw his utopia. She wondered if he could see her soul dance. She listened. He spoke with passion of a time that would come when the world knew happiness. He painted around the black, the white and the grey with bright colors that she never imagined could work so beautifully together. She saw his heart, and she wished to keep it. He walked her home. She wanted sorely to hold his hand. He turned and he smiled. He has beautiful eyes. She saw in them a sincerity she had not seen in a while. Rustle. It was getting late. He wanted to say something. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to say something, but he didn't. She knew he wouldn't. Rustle. There was wind. There was always wind. And now, there was Leo.