eeeeeeeeee! you reviewed! The Story Continues.
-5-
I set the naked photograph on my desk, propped it against the mirror and turned away. The night was done for me. I pulled off my shirt and pants and tossed them at the laundry hamper, then climbed into bed. The air had grown cold but apathy overcame me and I couldn't lift myself from bed even just to put on pajamas.
For long hours I wrapped myself tight in my comforter, unable to sleep. Cool tears still streaked my cheeks when I heard it. The clink of something hitting against my window. Certainly I imagined it.
I rolled onto my side, facing away from the glass but I heard the sound again, and slowly sat up, my blanket falling down from around my shoulders. I stood and walked to the window. It was a moment before I realized what exactly I was looking at. He was there, standing on my front lawn, throwing pebbles. He'd stopped mid throw when I'd appeared in the glass, and was now yelling. I could hear his muffled cries of, "Keely!" But at first I didn't move.
It was a mirage. It couldn't be true. Yet I blinked and blinked and he wouldn't go away. I opened the window and felt the cold air rush in. Could it possibly be real?
"Phil?"
"Keely! Come down!"
I panicked. Suddenly I didn't know what to do. I stepped away from the window, acutely aware of my bare skin. It's a dream. It's a dream. It's a dream. Good dreams are better than none. Pull yourself together Teslow.
I stopped. Standing in the center of my room, frozen in the instant explosion of one word through my mind.
Phil.
-6-
He stood at the front door, completely oblivious of his own shivering. Nothing could darken his bright eyes as he waited. She's coming.
On the other side of the door she stood still, her body wrapped in a heavy winter coat. She'd flown on angel's wings down the stairs but now that she was there... now that he was right beyond the door she couldn't move.
For a moment neither moved and all there was, was Phil's breath coming in wisps of white and floating away, little clouds in upside down teardrop shapes.
Her hands were stayed at chest level together, fidgeting so slightly, aching to reach for the doorknob. Slowly her right hand reached out, crossing the gap between her flesh and the cold metal doorknob. She let her fingers wrap delicately around it.
Phil's heart lept as the gears of the doorknob clicked and the knob turned away. Slowly, assuredly, the door came open.
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