Special thanks to: http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/
Prompt:
The moon was full and bright, casting a cool silvery-blue blanket over a secluded town out in the woods. The air was sweeter than most nights, out their tucked beneath the evergreens. Locust hummed in the humid night air and the lullaby of evening was in full swing, sending the patient people of the town to their beds. Tonight needed to be quiet, because there was a big city commotion coming to town. A girl with pale skin, and dark hair, who looks terribly out of place, was already on her way.
_______
"Are you sure he is going to be there? That's like a thirty minute drive for me."
"Yes of course he is going to be there Stiresa, just make sure you have the money."
"I feel so dirty, like I shouldn't be doing this, but I got a lot of them as a kid you know, I just want to remember what it felt like."
"You ain't dirty girlfriend, everybody needs one every once in a while, and that's why guys like Espresso make money given em' out."
"Are sure he is clean?"
"As a whistle doll."
" Is it safe? I mean no shady blue coats or anything waiting to pick me up?"
"Just go sweetheart, that's why it's way out in the boonies."
" Y-you don't think I'll get hurt out there do you?"
"No way, it's a darlin' little town sugar cake."
" Have you ever done it?"
"Oh! Loads of times muffin, a girl gets lonely in the big city."
"Okay, I think I'm gonna do it this time."
"Trust me pie face, you won't regret it, Espresso is a gentle guy."
"Thanks Mocha. For setting this up I mean."
As the conversation ends Stiresa Macciato, a pale skinned, dark haired girl, who looks terribly out of place, leans in to towards the woman she has just been talking with, Mocha. The dangerous reflex draws the attention of a nearby 'blue coat', the slang term for law enforcement around the city. A whistle blows and Macciato shrivels away afraid that the tiny embrace may have been seen as PDA a strictly forbidden public action in this day and age.
"Aye ! You lot stop right there. Don't think I didn't see yous."
The officer rushed over baton in hand. Stiresa looked down at her feet in a childish attempt to dodge the situation. If she didn't look like she's paying attention maybe he will be less harsh. To her surprise, while looking down still, the officer scuttled past her. She kept her head trained at her subtly quivering ankles but rolled her eyes to peer just beneath her staunch straight bangs, and saw a couple defiantly holding hands. The officer jammed his club gently between their arms and pried their entwined embrace asunder. A look of angst sneaked across Stiresa's face. She couldn't hide it, she remembered the days when people would kiss, and hug one another open and freely, when love was not a weakness, when it was not whispered behind allegiant masks of stoicism. She was disgusted at the world that emerged in her adulthood. Mankind so proud and hateful had plunged into a stagnant bog of sterile acrimony, where physical touch was not only considered morally wrong, but was against the law. Business deals were signed from digital documents miles away, no longer sealed with a firm and understanding handshake. Courting lovers restrained themselves to batting eyes and love notes, sneaking first touches of each-others' fingertips behind closed and barred doors. A completely different meaning to 'fingering', than when she was growing up. Some saw it as better this way. Germs didn't spread, people were equals as far as public relationships went, and those that were forever alone didn't have to suffer the agony of watching those that were affectionate parade it around everywhere. Though Stiresa couldn't stand it, she was a good girl and followed the law, and tried to act morally in the eyes of her peers but tonight was going to change that. She had, had enough.
The officer proceeded to give the couple a ticket for violating the harsh regulation, during this time Mocha, and Stiresa took the opportunity to part ways. Stiresa had, a handwritten address nestled into her palm and was giddy with excitement for what was waiting for her at the destination.
_______
Creaking bolts and various hardware squeaked into the still night. Clanking around in a rickety old scooter that whizzed through sweet pine scented air, parting it like that staff of Moses. Two wheels percussed along stretches of cracked and crumbling concrete. They bounded over hurdles of lumpy chunks resounding a rhythm that echoed through the tree's and bounced in between all manner of living things. They played a march that demanded, "onwards, towards victory". Despite the big city commotion that this pale skinned, dark haired girl , who looked terribly out of place, was unleashing on the small town, it sat there somberly breathless and undisturbed. The hoi polloi of the peaceful town lay silent in their beds, with an air of unawareness wrapping the town like a bow adorning a gift. All except for one man, who was expecting, like the pale girl, something different. A man recognized more accurately by his shadow. He stood stalwart and assured in the still night air, with feet that pushed into the ground with the weight of purpose. Dark and sharp, both in look and wit. With eyes that cut through his field of vision like daggers, hidden under a slanted and jaded brow. That very brow, his cheeks, and his chin, levitating in the darkness, brought into perception by the cool silvery-blue light of the moon hung high in the night sky. If his eyes weren't cloaked by the secretive shadows clinging to his face, you could see the stars from the clear sky above reflected in them. If you could see past the stars you'd catch a glimpse of his soul, defined in a word...hope.
_______
Stiresa went through with the rest of her day as normally as she could. After meeting Mocha for lunch she returned to her job and went about it as she always does. No external change was profoundly noticeable, but on the inside a fire was igniting. It shined in her cheeks and twinkled in her eyes, it illuminated the room every time her lips could no longer fight the urge and peeled back into a smile. Her heart was conducting symphonies which resounded in her head and revolved around the central theme of the note that was nestled neatly in her hand, tucked tightly into her hand bag, and hidden hurriedly into her desk. It was as if every thought that she had and every action she took was tied with a string to that note. It kept pulling her in, relentlessly. After years of bravely schelpping around the weight of disappointment, burdening loneliness, and the distinct seclusion that detached her from her peers, she was going to feel the body of another. She fantasized about the completeness it would bring to her, the release, a chance to feel connected.
After work Stiresa Macciato rigidly headed back home. She knew she had nothing to hide, there was no law against having a note. All the same her anxiety did a superb job of convincing her subconscious that she was trotting about contraband. Once home she quietly and methodically consumed her supper. More than any other night she proceeded through all of her normal routines with robotic precision, finishing even a little bit early. She took the time to practice with a pillow, a habit she had long been engaging in, but the stuffed fabric never brought remotely the same satisfaction as the real deal. She put away the childish routine after a minute or so and resolved that the vice was one of rattled nerves. Making her way over to the window she patiently watched twilight bloom into dusk and began anticipating the introduction of nightfall. Her eyes hazed over and replaced the images of reality with dreams of her fugitive savior. She built theatrical production in her mind outlining every detail of how it would play out, then retraced and played it all over again with different possibilities every time. She helplessly worried herself over each contingency, but thought it exhilarating. With one last sigh she snapped back into consciousness and her breath carried the slow approaching night over the horizon. It was time.
_______
The clamorous scooter huffed to a stop in front of a large grove of drooping trees. They didn't tower like the rest of the evergreens, but instead bowed with humility and draped empty over the air to flutter above the ground. The melancholy little trees outlined a perfect path up a hill, which rolled steeply behind an iron gate. Stiresa uncrinkled the folded up piece of paper and carefully read the address on it. She double checked it compared with a strip of florescent numbers at the foot of the gate. It was a match, this was the place, it was finally time. She hopped off her valiant steed and started towards the opened gate. Her steps were heavy while climbing the hill and her excitement had tangled itself up and now stuck firmly as a ball in her throat. Her calm anticipation was morphing into a terrifying anxiety, the fear of the unknown. She wasn't even sure if she should be doing this. She wasn't even sure if she would still like it after all this time. She wasn't sure she should take the next step. Before she could let the thought paralyze her determined stride a voice interrupted.
"You must be Macciato."
"Huh...who's there?"
"Relax it's me."
The voice pierced the chilly darkness with a warm soothing baritone. The voice sounded fatherly and caring, like it came from someone who had seen all of the evils the world had to offer but concluded to side with the notion of goodness and refused to let them beat him down. A positivity that infected Stiresa and soothed her worried spirit.
"I'm espresso, a friend of Mocha's, she said you were coming by tonight, was everything clear on what is expected?"
"Ummn...No, not really. I mean she told me how much cash to bring, but I've never done this, I don't really know what happens."
"Don't sweat it, I know that you and I think alike. How...? Cause your here that's how. We want the same thing, these laws are ludicrous and we aren't gonna let em' govern our lives. Am I right so far?"
"Yes, I suppose."
"Right...Do you remember what it was like?"
"Only hardly."
"It's great, it'll be like your first time all over again."
With out warning the exciting talk had stirred up a warm tingling in Stiresa's core. She felt butterflies tickling her tummy, and excitement was buzzing in the back of her head and up and down her spine. She was moments away from feeling complete again.
"Look...I ask for the money mainly just to make it hard. I gotta know that the person sincerely wants it."
"Right, no problem, I understand."
"No I don't think you do. See what I'm trying to say is...well...I mean...Look, it can never be about the money, or else it isn't the same thing."
"Right... no, now I don't understand."
"I'm not gonna charge ya, I was never gonna charge ya. The money is just to show that you aren't a blue coat right. It's bigger than the money. It's better than money. I need it just as bad as you, truth be told."
"So you don't want the money?"
"Never did."
"okay...so now what?"
"Now, well, now you come here."
The deep voice leaped out from under the saggy tree. There stood a looming shadow, stretched out and tall with arms reaching towards her. Stiresa didn't know what to think. Everything was happening so fast and she was so confused. She thought she was paying for something she had craved for ages and now the dialogue had swept her about like wind tossed hair. She was standing there shrinking back, unsure if she was ready. Espresso walked closer.
"Don't be shy, no one comes out here. I do a lot for this town so they leave me alone."
"I-I-uh.."
Espresso was now totally out of the shrouding darkness and was bathed in the crystal clear moonlight. His skin absorbed the silvery-blue light and all of his sharp features were ablaze. Tall dark and handsome, but with a look of inconceivable sincerity. His smooth voice and homely appearance was again reminiscent of that stalwart fatherly figure. He was close now, very close, close enough that Stiresa could smell a faint robust bouquet that only deepened her requiescence and brought her racing mind to be calm like the breezy night air. She looked into his eyes and saw the stars reflected in them. Big round dark discs that reminded her of the innocence that you see in a puppy dog's eyes. For a moment she lingered there staring into his gaze, but then she fell through the stars and for the first time she felt more connected to someone than she ever had. She caught a glimpse of his soul and made it back with only one word...hope. She collapsed into his arms with tears welling under her tightly closed eyelids. A pale skinned, dark haired girl who seemed terribly out of place, was locked in the arms of another. There in moonlight the two strangers shared the purest of moments, manifested in a simple embrace. Long forbidden, even longer over-due, human as to human they hugged. So simple and significant, so pristine and perfect, so beautifully appropriate, a longing was fulfilled in each. To be one and to be connected. The expression of Humanity.
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