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Citizen
January 4th, 2014, 03:16 PM
This will be the last one for a week or so. What could I do differently to make this better?



Special Occasions

by Citizen


Sometimes a man should think. Not just any thinking will do. It has to be about her. Every man has a her. It is often the one who got away though the lucky few manage to not do something to mess up the love of their her. My her was the best time of my life. It started when I was a young lad of sixty-three.

"Excuse me. May I sit here?" Said the creature under golden grey hair.

"Yes, of course. Tables are made for more than one person." I nearly spilt my glass of maderia while half rising from my chair in a poor attempt at manners.

Here before me was a girl who, in bygone days of my time in French Lorraine, my friends and I would say was a regal woman. An exceptional woman. She sat so straight her spine never touched the back of the chair. Her hair was pulled back with wisps of untamed hair floating in the cool afternoon breeze giving her an angelic look as if she was God's own sent from heaven.

"I am sorry for disturbing you but there are no other open tables." She said this with sweep of her arm to the other tables on the side walk.

"It is alright so no apologies are needed. I was just taking in the nice weather and enjoying the world." Can I buy you a coffee or wine?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

I motioned to the waiter and my new acqaintance ordered a single malt scotch.

"Hoo! Scotch?" I said out loud. "I thought I was the only one who drank the stuff."

"I learned to like it from my late husband. He was a scotch man and because we were in love I learned to like it, too. I only drink it on special occassions."

"Well I do not know what this day is for you but I will declare it a special occassion so you are covered double. My name is John Weaver."

"My name is Susan Blair. It is nice to meet you John Weaver."

"So what is your special scotch occassion, Mrs. Blair?

"Today is my birthday." A bright smile lit up that angelic face. "I am. I am? I am a little long in the tooth. I'm sorry. Is it vain to not want to share my age?"

"What? No. In fact I know many people who share their age all too much. You would think they were as old as rocks and knew Adam and Eve as that nice young couple down the street." Her laugh was so loud that people stopped eating and drinking to see what was so funny. Then it was my turn to laugh loud and hard because it stuck me funny as I watched my wittiness unfold in a synphony of laughter.

Now I must admit that I am a sucker for a pretty face but it was her eyes that sealed my fate. Brown and big.

We talked about life in the afternoon light and when the topics dropped off we just sat and watched the other people at the cafe. There were a couple of gentlemen at the table next to us playing a game. They played oblivious to us watching their warfare of cards. I rested my head lazily in my hand and strangely enough Mrs. Blair was doing the mirror image of me. We would just stare at the activity next to us and not say a word since we were lost in our own thoughts.

Every now and then I would look at her, not moving my head, with just my eyes. How I looked into her eyes to see the origins of her soul. Then she would find me looking and we would dive to the depths our souls together. After a minute of looking I would turn back to the neighbors of the next table and so would she. We searched each other for another twenty quiet minutes. It was the best time I have with a woman in years.

The two patrons with their game over signaled an end to our chance meeting. She gathered her purse and stood up to go. We stood there looking into our souls. I held her hand as if to shake it.

"Well, Mr. John Weaver, I have had the greatest birthday since the death of my husband."

"It has been my very best pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Blair"

I gave her a firm handshake while looking in to her brown and big eyes. Smiles came to our faces because we both knew this was a new special occassion and then she was off down the way and out of my sight.

I sat down and heard a voice beside me.

"Sir? Can I get you another Maderia?" asked my waiter.

"No. Bring me a scotch. Single Malt." And I was left alone to think of her.

Abita
January 5th, 2014, 10:39 PM
This was very charming. I liked how the last few lines seamlessly circled back to the beginning - it felt very complete. I would replace some of the vague soul-searching lines ("How I looked into her eyes to see the origins of her soul"; "We stood there looking into our souls"). I thought using the word "soul" so frequently in such a short piece was distracting, and made it sound a little too Hallmark-y. Maybe add in some body gestures or exchanged words that show their affinity for each other instead. Otherwise, well done.

Citizen
January 7th, 2014, 02:11 AM
Thank you, Abita. It does read a bit odd now that you mention it. Hallmark was the last thing on my mind. I will work on it.

Kevin
January 7th, 2014, 02:34 AM
What could I do differently to make this better? tiny asides; scene/setting; description; hints. Got to be subtle though, interspersed; not heavy. And what the was he thinking as he watched her go?

Citizen
January 7th, 2014, 05:11 AM
Thank you. The things you named never crossed my mind. I will include them from now on. I will leave it to the reader to think about what he was thinking.