Get Away

It's as though she could read my mind, unexpectedly resting on the hood of my Jeep. A sight for sore eyes and a clouded mind. Immediately I couldn't help but laugh, "Always popping out of nowhere. I was wondering when I'd run into you next."

"Got to keep you on your toes!", she smiled back while taking a leap off the front bumper. "I'm hoping this one's yours, I guessed. But right or wrong, it worked out as planned."

The doors were unlocked, yet just like everyone else that takes a ride, she stood there waiting, later to make excuses and lectures on how I should lock my door and that next time she'll take stuff.

"So where are we going?" She got comfortable quick and snapped on her seatbelt.

"Well, now that I got this pleasant surprise I say we get some fresh air?"

"Let's do it!"

The stereo caught up with the rest of the car, and the music began to dance from the speakers. Her hand brushed against mine as I shifted into gear, intercepting her sloppy reach for the volume knob. "Hmm, a manly man eh?" mocking my choice for a manual transmission, forcing me to confirm that the cool factor did contribute to the selection. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head with disbelief, which soon blended with the music and demonstrating her sense of rhythm. I put on the most absurd macho expression on my face and hammered on the gas, sending her deep into the seat.

"So where are we going?"

My brow raised in attempt to build suspense. "I've had an idea for some possible pictures," I teased, purposefully withholding my plans.

"Dedicated! Do you take your camera everywhere?" I nodded and pointed to the backpack I had recently tossed into the back seat. This stirred her to fish it out, bumping the bag into the back of my head, in turn making me drift slightly out of my lane. Her small fingers worked the dials and buttons and soon she was reviewing the last of my shots.

"Ha, I figured it out." she grinned with accomplishment.

"Haven't done much since the last time you looked."

"Well, I guess we're going to change that today hu?" Eager, interested, spontaneous and let's not forget, she smells nice. "So what's the thought floating in your head?"

"Rocks."

Soon we found ourselves sitting by the waterfall, away from all the troubles. The only sound between us was the snapping of small stones against each other, followed by the occasional collapse of the empire we spent the recent minutes building. Eventually, we silently agreed upon our creation and I drew my camera. Laying on the ground, I squinted through the view finder, focusing the image. Cutting through the silence, her breath escaped slowly as to not disrupt the tower in front of us.

"Gail?" I held my breath and released the shutter.

"Hmm?" The camera snapped open and close, flashing the satisfying image onto the small screen. Just as I pictured.

"Thanks for cheering me up."

Park Bench Daydream

I found myself sitting on a bench, replaying in my mind the conversation I had with Gail. Even the thought of it made my spine tingle with anxiety. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and hoped that I'll hear same voice echo, "How's the dream?"

"Frighteningly real." My lips gestured the words and my eyes opened, almost expecting to see her sitting next to me, but the chill breeze remained unshielded on my side. Yet, I was still able to imagine that someone was with me, and nodded my head as though to greet the passerby, approaching from just beyond the scope of my peripheral sight. My heart began to beat faster with the anticipation, harder and harder, forcing me to look around. Nothing.

I couldn't help but to become absorbed in a slight sense of disappointment, still hell bent on willing her to show up randomly as she did before. All senses focused, I let the dream take over. Cutting through the scent of grass, I imagined her perfume flooding my surroundings. Eyes closed, the camera in my hand felt heavy, as though tugged. Recalling the images captured in recent days, I yearned to share them with her, perhaps inspiring further stories.

My grip loosened and I could feel the strap slowly sliding between my fingers. The wind that once cooled my arm, suddenly absent. Vanilla swirled in the air and landed next to me with a nudge of the bench, seemingly in slow motion. Again a smile stretched across my lips as I held my breath, waiting for the words. With each second that passed by, the air in my lungs pushed the anticipation further outward. I felt it flood my arms and radiate through my palms. Nothing was said, and I refused to open my eyes, accepting that today I will only see her with them closed.

Passerby

"How did it turn out?" A voice cut through the cold night, making my bent knees try to jump, holding back in fear of nudging the supports keeping the camera in place. I took one last glance through the view finder, two clicks to darken the exposure, set the timer and release the shutter.

"We'll find out in a moment." I grunted as I straightened my knees and took my first glance at the passerby. As the camera flashed and clicked into motion, I stood in silence, glaring at a pale face, reflecting the florescent lights which lighted the underpass, mildly grinning at either my remark, or perhaps the grunting involved, gratis, with my attempt to set my knees straight. It was beginning to be awkward, but soon the two second exposure elapsed and with another click, the camera closed its eye. Her brow raised, diverting her glance at the miniature display at the rear of the camera. "Let's take a look."

My body couldn't help from shaking nervously so I rubbed my hands together with vigor, as to suggest that I'm cold. In reality, it felt suddenly warm and my face was probably slightly flushed. I stalled for a moment, slowly unlatching the camera from the tripod, taking a deep breath while raising it to eye level. "Not too bad." she whispered again. I grunted in agreement, but honestly I couldn't make out the image. All I saw was her face at the back of my mind, dressed in black eyeshadow and a dark red shade on her lips. Her hair was held back by a carefully folded handkerchief, escaping in curls from the back. "Can I see what else you have on there?" I answered in a quick "yep" and handed over my apparatus.

I watched her lean against the nearby wall, and slide unto the floor. In the mean time, I reached into my pocket and withdrew a tin and lighter. With a cigarette between my lips, my thumb flicked a flame into existence. Two puffs and I met her confused stare. "How do I work this?" I chuckled, reaching for the camera extended in my direction, while handing the tin to her reaching small hand. Soon I was sitting next to her, on the cold concrete floor, with my feet planted firmly as to match hers. She pushed on the edge of the camera, cuing me to tilt the screen her way, then reached over to steal the lighter, still in my grasp.

"Vanilla, eh?" I was told it was the scent that men respond to the best, next to cheese. She must have known, but fortunately chose the Vanilla. Her smile echoed as she laughed under her breath, leaning in a bit closer.

"It's cold, right?"

We sat there, glancing through the various photographs that I had yet to transfer off the camera. Some better then others, but she seemed interested non-the-less, sharing stories of which she was reminded of through out the slide show, as the light above us flickered on and off.
"So, do you make a hobby of bugging random folks taking pictures in empty underpasses?"

"From time to time, have to keep life spontaneous somehow right?"

"Of course," I agreed, noticing her look down at her phone for the time. It was closing in on four in the morning, late enough to stir her to her feet. "Need a ride somewhere?" She declined, pointing that she's not to far past the opposite end of the corridor. She shook my hand and made her way down. Delaying a moment longer, I slowly compressed the tripod, looking up to catch her blindly waving goodbye.

Her name was Gail.

Limited Warranty

"We fully guarantee this writing instrument against mechanical failure. Should service become necessary, the writing instrument will be repaired or replaced (at our option). Only refills are excluded from this warranty, as well as parts damaged from flagrant misuse. If your pen needs service, wrap with protective materials and seal securely in a box. Send via insured and registered mail to .....

.... Please Enclose a brief note about the problem; including your name and address printed clearly. Enclose either a money order for $4.95, payable to .... or your credit card number (with exp. date), to cover the cost of return postage and handling. ... "

The pen itself cost $4.44

No Questions Asked

Looking at my routine day, I find
myself reflecting on the choices of
my recent past. Much of the doings
labeled as impulsive acts, resting on little
experience. Yet, it is these choices
that I pride the most. Now, between
puddles and thunder I smile each
time my hand consciously shifts
through gears, a feeling I sought
out with no prior experience and
perhaps even a slight worry that I
was subconsciously inflating the
worth of. Other impulsive acts have
lead me to yearn for a snow covered
hill, so that I may strap a board to
my feet and slalom through the
fresh powder. A thought that instantly
invaded my mind, now entertaining
me during the sunless months.
For leisure, I now frame my thoughts
in the view finder, celebrating yet
another hobby which seems to have
no legitimate parent. Simply a choice
bred in dreams. I have always loved
these things, even before having the
tools to act out. There was no question
in my mind that suggests otherwise.
Perhaps sometimes it's best not to ask
questions, or inversely interpret them
as doubt and possible warnings.

Relativity

Einstein, and others, have gifted us with a wonderful thought that seems to not get enough attention from the philosophical world. "distance and time depend on the observer, and that time and space are perceived differently, depending on the observer."

My application of this concept is aimed toward the idea of an instant. During a discussion about the all-knowing-ness of God, someone made a comment that seems to have struck a chord with me. It is said that God knows exactly what we are going to do, contrary to the popular belief most hold regarding free will. At this point, someone introduced me to the thought that relevant to Him, our lives begin and end in an instant. If it would be accepted that God does not exist in any one time, but rather spans the spectrum of future and past, it would be possible for, what we have labeled, destiny and free will to co-exist.

I'm not here to talk about that, however. While I still can't find reasoning that would prove our Creator as "lacking flaws", this may be the closest that I can currently get. Suppose that our creation, evolution and even death, is part of an instant during which our engineering is taking place. Even if our perfect creation occurred in exactly a split second, would it be perceived to us in the same way? Perhaps the moment that our consciousness began to even remotely come together, so did our relativity.

If this is the case, imagine how much progress we have made in our Gods instant. My vision is that by the time we're done, we too will have created an instant of our own. After all, if God is in fact powerful beyond our understanding, would our final state not lead us to the same scope of doing? Consider that in the instant that we finally do create the perfect sub-universe, it will in fact expand, learn and engineer one of its own.

Relativity may in this case suggest that we will never run out time when all we really need is an instants.