Cross Roads: Iman
Jan. 27th, 2016 07:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodsong1A taste of what my series will eventually be like.
She was beautiful, statuesque, with a hint of the exotic about her. She walked into the Cross Road Coffee Shop with a model's glide on three inch heels and waited her turn. The barista smiled her patented "It will be okay" smile as she made the order and rang Beauty up. Beauty looked around for a seat in the busy cafe. In a corner by one of the windows, a person stood and pulled out the empty chair opposite their laptop, gesturing. Beauty nodded and threaded her way to the offered seat. The kind person moved the chair in and took their seat. Up close, this person was also a woman. She was shorter then her guest and pixie like, the laptop a repository for her words. Writer looked at Beauty. Beauty looked at Writer. Beauty sniffed ever so slightly. Writer reached into her purse, took out a pack of tissues and slid them toward Beauty.
"Thank you," Beauty said. Writer nodded.
"Widows need to stick together," Writer said, laying her fingers on the keyboard. Beauty blinked behind full sunglasses.
"You...?"
"Yes. Six years ago." Writer looked up and smiled. The smile brought its own beauty to her face. "Yes, he was young and I'm older then I look."
"Does it ever stop hurting?" Beauty's voice was wistful.
"The six inch valley becomes four inches, then two. Eventually it becomes a ditch." Beauty used a few tissues.
"I...I don't know what to do now."
"Do you have children?"
"A daughter."
"Look to her. My children kept me alive. She'll help you find your strength."
"You have children?"
"Two, boy and girl. My son is a teenager." Beauty paused mid sip. Writer smiled again. "I'm thirty-seven. How long did you have with your husband?"
"Twenty-three years. What about you?"
"Seven." Writer ran a fingertip along her large coffee mug. "I wanted more." Beauty nodded.
"We...knew it was coming, but,"
"But it still hurts. You can't really prepare yourself for the valley's carving. Mine died of a stroke." Writer looked at Beauty. "I am glad for you. That kind of happiness is rare."
"Yes, it is. You had it too, didn't you?"
"Yes." Writer raised her mug. "To our beloved. They're waiting for us." Beauty touched her paper cup to the mug.
"To our husbands." They sipped their coffee. Beauty rose.
"Thank you..." Writer rose and bowed.
"You are part of a special group now. Our shared loss is our strength. Draw on it as you need." Beauty nodded.
"I feel a little better already. Thank you."
"Blessed Be."
"Yes. Thank you." Beauty walked out. Writer watched her go. "I would have liked to have hugged her." Barista worked her way over and put a large piece of chocolate cake next to the laptop. Writer blinked at the cake, looked at Barista. "Um, I didn't..."
"You earned it. Lots of people worried about her. Lots more grieving with her."
"She was a Star's beloved. It's only natural." Writer smiled at Barista. "You remind me of the Babe."
"What Babe?" Barista smiled back.
"The Babe with the power."
"What power?"
"The power of voodoo."
"Who do?"
"You do."
"Do what?"
"Remind me of the Babe!" They said together and giggled. Writer sat down. "I'm glad I was able to help."
"You made my job easier!" Barista walked away. Writer looked at the piece of cake, laughed and took a bite.
Because that's the closest I'll ever get.
She was beautiful, statuesque, with a hint of the exotic about her. She walked into the Cross Road Coffee Shop with a model's glide on three inch heels and waited her turn. The barista smiled her patented "It will be okay" smile as she made the order and rang Beauty up. Beauty looked around for a seat in the busy cafe. In a corner by one of the windows, a person stood and pulled out the empty chair opposite their laptop, gesturing. Beauty nodded and threaded her way to the offered seat. The kind person moved the chair in and took their seat. Up close, this person was also a woman. She was shorter then her guest and pixie like, the laptop a repository for her words. Writer looked at Beauty. Beauty looked at Writer. Beauty sniffed ever so slightly. Writer reached into her purse, took out a pack of tissues and slid them toward Beauty.
"Thank you," Beauty said. Writer nodded.
"Widows need to stick together," Writer said, laying her fingers on the keyboard. Beauty blinked behind full sunglasses.
"You...?"
"Yes. Six years ago." Writer looked up and smiled. The smile brought its own beauty to her face. "Yes, he was young and I'm older then I look."
"Does it ever stop hurting?" Beauty's voice was wistful.
"The six inch valley becomes four inches, then two. Eventually it becomes a ditch." Beauty used a few tissues.
"I...I don't know what to do now."
"Do you have children?"
"A daughter."
"Look to her. My children kept me alive. She'll help you find your strength."
"You have children?"
"Two, boy and girl. My son is a teenager." Beauty paused mid sip. Writer smiled again. "I'm thirty-seven. How long did you have with your husband?"
"Twenty-three years. What about you?"
"Seven." Writer ran a fingertip along her large coffee mug. "I wanted more." Beauty nodded.
"We...knew it was coming, but,"
"But it still hurts. You can't really prepare yourself for the valley's carving. Mine died of a stroke." Writer looked at Beauty. "I am glad for you. That kind of happiness is rare."
"Yes, it is. You had it too, didn't you?"
"Yes." Writer raised her mug. "To our beloved. They're waiting for us." Beauty touched her paper cup to the mug.
"To our husbands." They sipped their coffee. Beauty rose.
"Thank you..." Writer rose and bowed.
"You are part of a special group now. Our shared loss is our strength. Draw on it as you need." Beauty nodded.
"I feel a little better already. Thank you."
"Blessed Be."
"Yes. Thank you." Beauty walked out. Writer watched her go. "I would have liked to have hugged her." Barista worked her way over and put a large piece of chocolate cake next to the laptop. Writer blinked at the cake, looked at Barista. "Um, I didn't..."
"You earned it. Lots of people worried about her. Lots more grieving with her."
"She was a Star's beloved. It's only natural." Writer smiled at Barista. "You remind me of the Babe."
"What Babe?" Barista smiled back.
"The Babe with the power."
"What power?"
"The power of voodoo."
"Who do?"
"You do."
"Do what?"
"Remind me of the Babe!" They said together and giggled. Writer sat down. "I'm glad I was able to help."
"You made my job easier!" Barista walked away. Writer looked at the piece of cake, laughed and took a bite.
Because that's the closest I'll ever get.
