'Portraits of Us'

Throwback Thursday! Well actually all of these entries have been throwbacks since Writers Digest haven't posted any prompts lately. But... I did write something new today! <(See I insert that little symbol when I'm excited.) During work, yes work because all I do is think of writing, I wrote a childrens story called Purple Pigs. I figured that you can't lose in writing bedtime stories, since that is the only genre where it's a Good thing if your audience falls asleep to your work. Smart guy huh¿ <(Thats my symbol for a Rhetorical Question.) But I liked it, and you will be the first to read it. I will release it tomorrow, so make sure that you swing back by. It's a cute story... ANYWAYZZZ, Todays post is part 3 and the last part of the Story I posted yesterday. I believe the prompt was write a story mentioning snow, ex friend, and a picture frame. So I decided to connect it to Silent Night and Love Hurts. So here you go, and again, Thanks for your time.

                                  'Portraits of Us'

Even after what she put me through on our ‘Midnight Movie’, and my hallucination of the ‘Christmas Carols’, Kristina still haunted my mind. I sat there on my door steps chain smoking menthols until my throat was Sahara dry, and my fingertips reeked like burnt popcorn. I missed her… like I was aiming to forget her. Everything reminded me of her, even sitting on the steps smoking; she hated when I smoked in the house, so it’s been routine that I take my habit outside. The stars reminded me of her eyes, which sounds like a corny cliché from an airport novel, but it’s true… her eyes really did twinkle. I was in dire need of a wish right now… I had to see her.

I parked two blocks away from her residence and sat there for a while. I stepped out once but quickly jumped back inside my car. I felt so dumb for doing this, but love tends to make people stupid… She had me dumbfounded. Finally I took a deep breath like I was about to perform a cannon ball, and stepped outside. The wind chill attempted to slap some sense in me, but I was too far gone. I took each step with regret but reminded myself that I had come too far to turn around now. Maybe if I just peeped through her window, just for a glance, my heart would be satisfied and I could return home. I knew just the window to sneak towards, since she always read in her guest room before she went to bed. I just hoped that she hadn’t already gone to sleep.

I slid my feet in the three inch snow to prevent from leaving a footprint; a silly trick I had seen on ‘Law and Order’. I could feel my heart beat bicycle kicking through my hooded Carhart jacket. My popcorn fingertips felt like metal when I rubbed them together for heat, but still I had come too far to let Mother Nature hold me back. I could see her hair in the window like a set of jet black curtains. I dropped the ground instantly, thinking that she was looking out the window; maybe she had heard me sliding my size thirteen boots. Snow flew up my shirt when I fell prone; leaving my chest freezing with ice dripping into my jeans… this was bad.

When I looked up at the window I felt stupid realizing that she actually had her back to the window. I shook my head at my stupidity and snow shot from my earlobes. She was holding something in her hand, viewing it. I crouched and duck walked over to get a closer look; the whole footprint idea was history now. It looked like a card but I wasn't sure, so I eased my face closer to the glass. I was so close that I could actually smell her. Oh how I've missed that smell, untill I remembered the last time I was graced with her aroma, and it didn't end well. I zoomed in with my Kodak and my face melted when I saw what she was holding. It was a picture of us that we took when we visited Chicago… It all was worth it now.