Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Good Life



Day turns to night
Night turns to whatever we want
We're young enough to say
This has gotta be the good life
This has gotta be the good life
This could really be a good life
     --One Republic, Good Life


He made coffee that filled the apartment with the smell of burn and sweet.

He sat. Blue sky glowed above the city outside his windows. Morning light washed the streets far below.

Work in forty-five minutes.

No use rushing. But no use sticking around in his small, annoying apartment either. He sipped and concentrated on enjoying the taste.

He thought about breakfast, but didn’t stand up from his chair in the end. All the sunshine penetrated only halfway. Night still lingered somewhere under his clothes. He would go back to bed, probably, if given the choice. Nothing would really propel him into the outside world.

A knock at the door startled him.

Strange. No one bothered him.

He tip-toed over to peep through and see if he should pretend not to be home.

It was the girl he had been thinking about more lately. The one who he started small talk with weeks ago and now had almost regular conversations with him.

He opened the door.

“Hi,” she said. She looked even more nervous than he felt.

“Hey,” he managed.

“I didn’t mean to barge in on you.”

“Are you, I mean, is everything okay?” he said.

“Oh yes. Everything is fine. Totally fine.”

“I just, I mean, I wasn’t--”

“I can go, if you’re busy.”

“No!” he said. “Please.”

As she stepped inside, he wanted to ask her why on Earth she came. Did he forget something? Drop his wallet or do something else equally stupid?

She seemed to sense the question. “I was kind of having breakfast,” she said, “and a thought suddenly hit me really strong. I just got up, caught a cab, and well, knocked on your door.”

He must have looked even more confused.

Her face changed. “I realized that I would much rather have breakfast with you,” she said.

10 comments:

Shadow said...

the start of something good...

Shakespeare said...

What a soft moment. So much is said in so little.

Seré said...

Hi Jason. Great song, great video...and of course, writing that stands up to both.

Lee said...

Nice!

Geraldine said...

I agree with Sere, well done Jason.


Happy Wednesday, G


PS: I am finally working on my novel! One that's been in the works "in my head" for a long, long time. Finally words being put down on paper. I'm having a ball.

the walking man said...

So it's now Thursday did they have dinner together too?

jason evans said...

Shadow, something huge, perhaps.

Shakespeare, I LOVE feedback like that!

Sere, great to see you! I hope the big things in your world are coming together the way you'd like. Thanks for the kind words.

Lee, thanks. :)

Geraldine, that's great news! It's such an odyssey, but worth it.

Walking Man, I believe so. Yes.

Cat said...

Wonderful, Jason. I really love the line, "Night still lingered somewhere under his clothes."

To echo Shakespeare (great handle!), your stripped-down prose belies the complexity of thought. There is a clarity--a sense of transparency--in your writing that doesn't obscure the essence of the moment, and I think this piece really exemplifies it.

Bravo!

jason evans said...

Cat,

Many, many thanks, my friend. :) I really like the way you described that. I think in my writing and in my photography I try to capture something that I feel. Each moment, each place in time, each interaction has a prime essence. An identity. These are the perspectives in my head that I try to share. I pare them down to allow them to shine.

Shraddha said...

:-)) Smiles....