The Poem
It had felt like gravity, in the beginning.
The attraction irresistible, undeniable, unbeatable.
Every single moment of the introduction felt like poetry, the first kiss had such symmetry that seemed like all of it was by design rather than random chance.
In the beginning at least, everything had been gold.
But then, as we progressed the cracks began to show.
Our two worlds were so different, and yet eerily similar.
But our words, our feelings, our desires, all of it in the end was unable to bridge the gap.
The tearing away, breaking away, it made my soul ache, it made my heart quake.
Oh, how I weep still at the thought of it all...
The words stopped pouring forth from the keyboard to the computer screen, in the dim light of the sunlight through closed shades the screen had more than enough brightness to reveal the pause.
Timothy O'Neill sighed and planted his elbows on the desk, spaced out enough to avoid hitting his keyboard (again), he put his head in his hands and moaned.
"Oh dear! I had such a good train of thought too. I can't believe I lost it."
Then his phone rang, making him jump up a bit in his chair, and an unmanly squeak escaped his lips.
O'Neill gave a nervous laugh before grabbing his landline and gave a cheery, "Hello!"
"Skinny!" the voice of his co-worker and secret paramour, Janet Barch answered back, "I found a last minute booking at Chez Pierre for 9 o'clock tonight, so we'll be having our date night early this week."
"Uh, Janet." Timothy began to say very carefully, "Are you sure this is such a good idea...?"
"Of course it is silly!" Janet replied merrily, "It's a weekday so only those Fashion Club floozies will be there, and I can scare them into silence easily enough."
Her voice then turned several octaves colder, "Don't be late."
Click!
At the sound of the dead line, Timothy O'Neill just moaned mournfully, the phone now dangling from his hand as he just slumped into himself, at a complete loss at the situation he was in.
He gave the poem he had been working on a brief glance and managed a very small smile.
"Well I guess I'll try working on this later." O'Neill said to himself while putting the phone on his desk and quickly saving his latest writing exercise before shutting down his computer.
He now had a date with Janet and needed to get ready, he had to look his best after all.
Plus he'd need to work on putting his happy face on, and considering the circumstances he'd need about an hour's worth of Esteem Affirmations to pull it off.
He just hoped that he could get back to his poems soon, like his fichus plants they were his children and needed to be well-nurtured and cared for.
"And one day I'll share them with the world!" O'Neill said to himself as he went into his bedroom, this sunny observation began the process of improving his mood, "And I'll be able to make millions of poetry readers happy."
And with thoughts of fame and glory in his head, all was right in Timothy O'Neill's world again.
FIN