One night Jasmine, my wife now, and I were at home she had just gotten out of the shower when the phone rang. It was a friend of ours Paul. He asked us to come over to his place for to see what he’d found. It seemed he had cleaned up a house for a local realtor and had come across as he put it tons of clothes he thought might be fit Jasmine. Since we weren’t really doing anything but sitting around anyway.
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Her passing had been very sudden. We had been sat together watching nothing in particular on the TV and she had slipped into a sleep that I realised, eventually, was death. The family had been caring, the funeral sensitive and then followed the lowliness -- that awful sense that something was missing in my life.
Our children had all left home, but living close, they had kept in touch, not oppressively, but supportively.
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It was nearing six o'clock. Jason glanced at his watch for the third time. "Honey? You about ready?" he called up to her from the stairs. He chuckled to himself. Denise had been primping herself for well over an hour. Not that that was a bad thing, she was just a little nervous. And it wasn't that she'd been worried about choosing the right outfit to wear for the evening, she wouldn't be wearing one.
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I have just taken my assigned right aisle seat in first class and opened the latest issue of "Newsweek" and begun to read a story about Terrorism in Iraq and suddenly - you walk through the entrance to the seating section of the Boeing 747. There is a certain air about you as you enter; every male in the front passenger area is staring at you.
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I watched one last set of waves roll into shore before turning and walking across the beach to the outside shower in the Beach Park. I leaned my surfboard against a picnic table nearby, tossed my bag by it, and stepped under the shower. The sun-warmed water cascaded down my tanned trim body. As I turned around under the shower I noticed a couple of guys sitting on another nearby picnic table; they were closely watching me rinse off.
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They had become our closest friends. Since moving to Florida we had not had much time with work and the kids' schools to meet many people. Luckily, John and Anna lived next door and had befriended us on the day we moved in. They were close to the same age yet a few years older and we all seemed to hit it off well from that very first day. John was the large muscular type that is always helpful to have when you are moving.
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It had been two months since I moved back, and I still didn't feel any more at home. I had lived on the estate several years ago, but that was when my grandfather and uncle were still alive, when we still had live-in servants, when I was still a teenager. It was different now, with the reality of adulthood coming a little too quickly, the mansion and grounds now a lonely responsibility.
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Stephanie breathed a deep sigh as she once again sat in traffic on the interstate. Yet another commute in a life full of them. It seemed that this was all her life had been since her divorce five years ago. Commute, work, commute, sleep, commute, work and so on and so on. At age forty-six she needed a change, but the rut she was stuck in was so deep it seemed that climbing out would be impossible. Today was just like any other day except it was Wednesday, not Tuesday or Friday or even Monday. It was just another day in a string of days that seemed to never change.
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Jefferson Sloan sat in his rocker and watched the girls walk down the street. School had just let out and they would be walking by for a while. The powerful telescopic lens brought them up close. They were as cute as they could be. They could not see him nor could anyone else. He loved to watch the little teens walk by. "Where were all the beautiful girls when I grew up." he wondered.
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I couldn't complain about the view, that was for sure.
Maggie and I sat hip-to-hip on a fleece jacket we'd spread on the ground to protect us from the tickly grass. It was June, and the groundskeepers apparently hadn't concerned themselves with mowing the grass around the field lately. I was in shorts and she was in a skirt, and we'd been going batty with the itching of the grass until Maggie had dug the fleece out of Max's gym bag.
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