My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Friday, August 20, 2010

0 genuine hope

The clock's ticking echoed through her brain.  She sat back in her chair, closed her eyes and let out a sigh.  This is crazy.  She thought to herself.  Her fingers moved caressingly over the folder that sat on the desk.  Never before had she felt the need to peek.  Peek, a sigh of laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head, please.  He had invaded her thoughts constantly.  No matter what she tried to do to distract herself, he weaseled his way into her thoughts.  She wanted more than anything to know him--know everything and anything about him.  The folder wouldn't answer all of her questions, but it was a place to start.  

She shook her head.  This isn't just crazy;it is absolutely insane.  I should just cancel.  Her chest tightened at the thought.  While a part of her rationalized it was the smartest thing to do, especially after engaging in activities outside of the research center, she so enjoyed the way he seemed to make her feel.  She had smiled and laughed.  And they were completely genuine.  It was selfish of her to want more of that.  Canceling would provider her with an opportunity to get to know him outside of the folder and outside of the touch.  Eventually, they would touch.  Eventually, things would change.  But it would be so nice to just get to know someone for once.  

The knock at the door disturbed her thoughts.  "Yes," she called out.

Marc opened the door and popped his head in.  "I just wanted to remind you that your appointment is in fifteen minutes." 

She swallowed back the words that loomed on the surface of her tongue.  "Excellent.  Thank you, Marc."  Marc smiled and closed the door behind him leaving her with the sound of the clock ticking away.  Another sigh escaped her.  That too was something she found herself doing a lot of over the past few days.  She looked up at the clock, fifteen minutes.  A smile pierced her lips.  She leaned forward, picked up the folder and filed it back in the drawer where it belonged.  Maybe I'll get lucky and we'll go another session without touching.

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