Magic

For her, again and again

She opened her eyes, and they were all dreamy.
“That was magic!”

“Shall we do it again?”
She blinked her eyes in consent, and we dove into another one that left us utterly breathless.

“I could get used to this,” she said, “that was so –”
“Intimate?”

“Yes. I don’t think it could ever become routine.”
“Shall we try?”

“Let’s.”
And we did. And it still wasn’t.

When we came up for air after a small eternity, she smiled and said, “And after that you expect to take the girl’s clothes off, right?”

I burst out laughing.
“I thought it was funny, too, but not that funny.”

“Well, the funny thing is that I’m obviously kissing someone who has read Raymond Chandler, which is rare nowadays –”

“I love reading Chandler,” she interjected.
“and, if you wish, I’d only be too happy to proceed in the Chandler way.”

“We’ll see about that – eventually,” she cautioned, but with a twinkle. “First we’ll have to get some more practice with magic, intimate and routine.”

And we proceeded to do exactly that.

– Leonard “Raymond” Blumfeld (© 2010)

Written for Café Writing (Magic) and Option 5 Seven Things, but not quite going by the instructions. The instructions were “Give me seven examples of every-day magic.” Instead, I let myself be carried away by the Chandler quote which preceded the instructions:

“Alcohol is like love. The first kiss is magic, the second is intimate, the third is routine. After that you take the girl’s clothes off.”

Unwritten love letter

My love,

I’m trying to imagine what would happen if tomorrow I boarded the train that takes you to work, sat down on the hopefully empty seat next to yours, placed – among all the people that might be watching your uneasy surprise and my jolly trespassing – the letter in your hands – the letter written to me in your words and with your name signed, the letter that tells it through you as I see it: your denial to acknowledge any feeling for me, the explanation of those glances, the happiness you felt in those moments spent together when we were in perfect tune, the glow on your face and in your eyes, the gleeful exchange of easy banter, the absorption that made us forget the world around. Would you wash your hands of all this, laugh it off as all in my imagination and send me off, once again, coolly, with some pedestrian greeting? Or would you admit that you’ve been lying all along – for whatever rational logic?

But perhaps it’s better to leave everything as it is – suppressed, puzzling, frustrating, ignored, lopsided.

I could be wrong.

L.

The task from Café Writing was to pick at least three of the following words and build a piece of writing around them.

I chose all the words: greeting, hands, imagine, leave, letter, people, train, trespassing, washing.

Knight on bended knees to his beloved lady

Barely a drop in the evenings now, only glad mist admidst the pallid murmurs of your dark rivulets. Oh how you make me swoon!

– Leonard Blumfeld

Nonsense ditty incorporating all nine words – drop, evenings, glad, mist, motionless, murmur, pallid, rivulets, swoon – from Café Writing.

Seven shadows

Seven things that cast shadows ... or remove shadows

1. Twists of fate (obviously these work both ways)
2. Love in all its insincere, fitful, joyous, painful and – ultimately, hopefully – genuine, unadulterated incarnations
3. Intersocial play ... the equality – inferiority – superiority game
4. The weather
5. The planets (anything can be blamed on planetary influences)
6. I myself
7. Constraints ... basically anything: taxes, traffic rules, work, the need to have dough ... anything that restricts freedom ... thank God for some of these

List inspired by Café Writing: "So, gimme seven things that cause shadows in your life OR gimme seven things that you do to chase the shadows away."