Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 7

Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 7


Three Letters
by: Nels Schifano

<7>



I am writing this in a flickering of orange and blackness. This is the best time, talking and reading, the world melting away into words, although sometimes a phrase is so beautiful I have to walk around a little just to let them settle in. One of these made me think of you. 'Do that which makes you happy to do, and you will do right.'

*

The freezer's cooling mechanism rattled, then fell silent, and she realised that she hadn't been aware of the noise it was making. In its absence the air in the house seemed to hang with that same question; how would her life have been if she had managed to send just one of them? But the air received no answers and went back to its lazy circulation.

In time she would fold the letter away and place it back in the envelope, place the envelopes back into the bag, the bag back into the tin and the tin into the trunk. She would cover it with layers of cloth and place down the seat and lock the catch. But now she just sat for a moment, the noise of the cat's contented breathing filling the house.

THE END


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Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 6

Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 6


Three Letters
by: Nels Schifano

<6>



You told me to go look for happiness and bring some back when I found it. But you can't bank happiness. You can't keep it for when you need it and you cannot give to someone else simply by having it yourself.

I thought I would be content to watch the river flow past and drift away on the scent of water lilies. I watched days become nights and nights gently give way to days, believing I was shedding my cares when really I was storing regrets. Now I know that reading is dreaming, that dreaming is sleeping and thought inaction. When I wake I find that all I have left is thoughts of you.

*

The noise of the cat jumping clumsily onto her lap, the feeling of her pressing up and down with alternate paws, claws snagging loops of cotton.

This time the silhouette is not the Queen's but that of Nehru, a white head against an orange background. The stamp is stuck on at an odd angle (but still stuck after all this time!) and he stares down at the scraggly lines of a familiar address. The letter itself is written on a school child's lined paper, as her eyes run down the page they linger on the date, Nov. 1968 and the dappling of yellow blotches. What were they? Had they always been there?

*

I still can't believe you decided to go. Why go back to the grey, the dirt, the noise, the rush? There is a lifetime to do those things. I know you chase that dream of yours, but the dream is so sweetly deferred here. Here I feel as if I am absorbing the sunshine and serenity.

Since you left we moved further east where the earth here has a reddish tinge and so does the food. Today we met a group of Americans. We got a ride on the roof of their van and helped them collect firewood. They say there is an old man who sells the beads you wanted from the front of his hut, and eight miles of white sand.


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Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 5

Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 5


Three Letters
by: Nels Schifano

<5>



Maybe that's why I am writing this letter. Perhaps it's thinking about England in the summer, perhaps it's the sounds of the river at night but my mind wandered back to the place of long afternoons, listening to Pink Moon and Lay Lady Lay. Can you still find a way back to the taste of cheap wine, the feel of grass between your fingers and a world that was all shimmering reflections?

All those people disappeared into the world. How would they be recognised now - perhaps only by the sound of their laughter?

I'm afraid I once damaged the environment in your name and took a penknife to the willow we used to sit by. I can remember wondering if the bark would ever grow back. If you ever find yourself driving past one weekend . . . Well perhaps not, it's probably so sadly different. But I know your name will still be there, carved in the memory of a tree.

*

She re-folded the letter and tapped it several times against her top lip. From the hall the clock calling out the quarter hour, then a moment of stillness - time stalling - before, faintly, the clock in her study responded.

She took out the next envelope. While her fingers searched for the flap she looked at the Queen's silver silhouette. The letter was written on paper so white and thin that as her gaze fell across it she saw it as a shade of blue. The date was April 1976.

*

Do I remember that September afternoon when I first met you? Is it possible to remember the slide into sleep or the hypnotist's fingers on your eyelids? I only know that it happened because at some stage I awoke.

Some things are clear, the lucid fragments of a dream, a conversation over the phone one Easter. We both felt down because I was working in a stuffy shop and you in a sorting office. I hated it and asked you how it was that time moved so slowly. It's okay, you said, it doesn't matter, because it will end and time passed is all the same, and anyway, in the end it's not time that you're left with.


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Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 4

Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 4


Three Letters
by: Nels Schifano

<4>



She put the tin on the table. Inside lay a medal from the Polish Airforce; a commemorative coin; a pebble taken from Ilfracomb beach in 1978 (could she really remember the heavy heat of that day or did she need the proof of the pebble to tell her she had been there); a present bought but never given; and inside a neatly folded bag, three envelopes. She glanced around the room, from somewhere inside a wall a pipe clanked - the house clearing its throat - and took out the top envelope.

An antelope leapt across a colourful stamp. It looked startled as antelopes often do caught in the sights of the black postmark. The paper inside was thick and cream-coloured, it had a blue letterhead and the date in the top right hand corner was July 2000. As she let her eyes wander over the page she noticed it was just a little crumpled, stiff in places, as if it had been wetted then dried.

*

This must be something of a surprise. If, that is, this letter gets to you. I remembered your address, of course, but then it suddenly struck me that maybe you had moved and I didn't know and anyway the post round here isn't exactly reliable. So perhaps I am only writing a letter to myself.

Really now that I've started I can't think what it was I wanted to say. I think it was just the act of writing that was important, just to feel as if I was still in contact with things, although I guess a blank piece of paper in an envelope would have seemed a little strange.

I've really no need to ask how things are with you. It all seems to have worked out pretty much as you planned. But still I hope you are both healthy and happy.

I am afraid I've done nothing very exciting to tell you about. Here is just an endless succession of long boring tasks, and then there's the heat and the clouds of flies that rise from the river and make everything twice as hard. But this evening as I washed and dried my clothes suddenly there was this feeling of satisfaction. Strange, five months of toil and worry then calm descends as welcome and unexpected as an ice-cream van clattering through the bush.


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Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 3

Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 3


Three Letters
by: Nels Schifano

<3>



There was the sudden sound of water flooding into a drain as somewhere nearby a plug was pulled from a sink, a toilet was flushed or maybe a washing machine emptied itself and she realised that her coffee had gone cold. She moved to the sink and ran the hot water. Staring out into darkness she listened to the succession of far-off bangs and shudders from the network of pipes. Bathed in yellow light hovering over the gloom of the garden she looked in at a woman repeatedly working a tea towel around the inside of a mug. Who was she? Why was she so miserable?

She shook herself and took out the plug. Slipped away again into nothing time (that time that flowed into the gaps between the things you did). Wouldn't a wasted minute become a wasted hour, wasted hours become wasted days? Where could she be now if she hadn't been doing, what? - making tea, sitting in traffic jams, reading the local paper, standing in a supermarket queue. Best avoided, the thought of her life draining into these moments.

She unpacked the carrier bag. She put away the milk, the orange, the biscuits and the cat food, then struggled to slide the two pizza's into an already crowded freezer spraying tiny shards of ice across the floor. An overflowing collection of polythene bags scrunched inside other polythene bags in the bottom of a cupboard was her commitment to recycling. When it was opened a white plastic avalanche slid towards her. She threw in the latest addition and slammed the door. A lone bag made a break for freedom and buoyed by the swish of air it lifted across the room like a jellyfish. Two pairs of eyes followed its progress over the spice rack and breadboard until it was caught on a bottle of olive oil.

The oak bench was not just a foot rest. She had made this discovery during a rigorous cleaning session one New Year. Under the lip of the removable cushioned seat she had found a small catch, rusty enough to break two nails. Eventually it yielded and raised to reveal a dark, hollow chest. Despite a few moments when her heartbeat seemed to fill the house, it proved to contain nothing more exciting than a pile of old newspapers - more dirtiness to clean. It was, she decided, an ideal place to store tablecloths and tea towels, but steadily it began to swallow bedding, pillowcases and blankets of various sorts. Really, it was ridiculous to think that no one else was aware of its existence (was she the only one ever to change a bed, lay a table?) Still, she always thought of it as hers, and, when alone in the house, she opened it, she experienced a flush of childish excitement. She felt it rise now as her fingers fumbled beneath soft layers of folded cotton searching for the sharp cold of a shiny metal toffee tin.


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Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 2

Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters 2


Three Letters
by: Nels Schifano

<2>



Steam began to rise vertically to the ceiling where it changed direction aware of the presence of some subtle draft (or draft of some subtle presence). Through the window she could see the outline of the narrow garden, the fuzzy grey shapes of a rusting climbing frame and overflowing compost heap. Along one side a scruffy fence lent drunkenly one way then the other, while a brutally straight line of six-foot high boards marked the other side of the territory. What further anti-cat measures (minefields, tripwires perhaps) lay waiting beyond? As if summoned by her thoughts Rahel, green eyes and a flicking tail, appeared on the window ledge, her silent meows making small circles of condensation. Smiling, she unlocked the door. The cat padded in, figures of eight around her feet represented by muddy paw prints on the kitchen floor. The kettle worked itself towards a crescendo, beads of perspiration appeared on its sides and it shook violently unable to contain the bubbling pressure inside. Abruptly it finished, sat back on the filament and turned itself off.

She reached up to the top cupboards for the coffee jar and bent down for those that contained the mugs. Here she paused, confused by the vast number of assorted cup, mugs and beakers that stared blankly back at her. Why did she have so many? Where had they come from? She sighed as she straightened pulling out a standard shaped mug with handle; colour - light blue; design - three letters emblazoned in gold, S U E.

She took off her coat and laid it over the back of the oak kitchen chair and sat down. She let her feet slip out of her shoes and raised them onto the fitted bench across the other side of the table. Above the bench were shelves supporting decorative plates in wire stands, a Charles and Diana mug (more mugs!), and a collection of photographs showing either madly grinning or defiantly sulky children (both on the verge of crying). As she looked the image of a growing family seemed to slowly recede to reveal the image of a shrinking woman.


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Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters

Short Love Stories | Nels Schifano | Three Letters


Three Letters
by: Nels Schifano

<1>



It was autumn. Although still afternoon the journey had been spent peering at slowly moving red lights through clouds of condensing exhaust and the intermittent slip-slip of wipers. Now as she turned off the ignition darkness gathered silently around her. She walked head down, hood up, feeling plastic handles moulding themselves around her fingers, the carrier bag spinning one way then the next as it clipped against her leg. The pavement was thick with the slippery brown mulch of fallen leaves and the smell of bonfires wafted across the common. A thin mist clung around the streetlights producing a shifting yellow gas. Sounds were muffled and movements lethargic. Cars slipped slowly by on a film of dirty water. At her gate she delayed, unwilling to break the stillness with squeaking hinges; not yet teatime and the city was being put to sleep.

The terrace before her hugged the curve of the road tumbling erratically down the hill and into the gloom. Bending around the edges of her vision she was conscious of curtains being swished closed, stone faces bathed by the grey light of televisions, broken roof tiles, satellite dishes, bay windows, the whole higgledy-piggledy collection of guttering and skylights. For a moment her home was a stranger, a simple compartment in this huge connected structure.

She rattled the key into the lock, tilting it to the particular angle that would allow it to catch. She stepped inside, her hand brushing the light switch as she closed the door behind her. The softly lit warmth of the interior walls were a welcome contrast to the dark slimy surfaces of the outside. Two elderly neighbours warmed the house from the sides and soon she would hear the comforting noises of the boiler rousing itself into life.

She kept her mind occupied by these happy details of returning home as she walked along the hall and into the kitchen. She lifted the carrier bag onto the worktop and reached for the kettle. Standing in the centre of the room, still in her anorak, she listened to the sound of the water boil and felt the house adjust itself to her presence. Now she returned at all times of the day she sometimes sensed she had caught it unawares. What ghosts that had been running through rooms were now slipping reluctantly back into walls? While its inhabitants had moved the house stayed still, preserving pockets of time in dusty corners. The blue-tak tears on bedroom walls, a water-colour sun and stick man hiding behind a fitted wardrobe, a dent in a table, a crack in a mirror, were all passing moments etched into the physical world, like voices pressed into vinyl.


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Short Love Stories | Shreya's Mystery | Mysterious story of a girl

Short Love Stories | Shreya's Mystery | Mysterious story of a girl

Mysterious story of a girl
Shreya's Mystery




"Why..., No you have to tell me." I asked her, this was her second attempt. Though we were best friend she is still not ready to talk about it. What's bothering her?

After about fifteen days she was back in school. By this time almost all the students in our class knew that Shreya has become suicidal. Marks on her wrists are very visible. Today she was very quite. I smiled at her she was numb.

She was new in our class; she was simple and nice girl. Very beautiful and innocent. I don’t know why but she was not very friendly with guys and always used to be with other girls friend. We were lab partners in the Science practical and that’s how we became good friends. We used to have lunch together and talk a lot about teachers. It was so much fun. She used to laugh like guys so loud. Haha it was really fun.

But the smile has literally disappeared over the period of time. She used to be very quite now.As the days passed we started preparing for the board exams. One day she called me at about 9 pm.

"Suraj, Shreya is on line " Dad shouted from the living room. I ran to take the phone. I was little irritated by the disturbance, I was about to win this battle on Age of empires with my elder brother. Irritated but surprised as she never used to call so late.

"My dad is coming from Mumbai tonight" Shreya said, sounding very mysterious.
"That’s great, I am sure he will get you surprise gift"
"I want to tell you something" Shreya was still not giving me any clue, but she was definitely not happy .
"Now?" I was so much in that match winning.
"Yes" she forced.
"Ok fine "I said.
"Tell me what is it "

She was quiet for a while.
"I don’t like my father " she said.
We both were silent. I said to myself "yah man, Even I don’t like my father, He doesn’t let me stay out till late "
"Yah Shreya, what happened?"
She was quite. She wanted to say something more.
"Hello, are you there" I said.
"We will talk tomorrow " She said and she hanged.

I didn’t call her back. I rushed to win the game.

She didn't come next day.
I waited. She still has not come to school, it was 4 pm. I smelled something is wrong. I rushed to her home on my bicycle. Last night conversation was going through my mind again and again.

She was lying cold in white cloth right in front of me. She was my best friend.

I couldn’t sleep for two days, neither had I gone school. I had to tell someone. I told to my uncle who is a cop about everything and how Shreya told me that she doesn’t like her father.

Few days later, I read the news "Father jailed for molesting 16 year old daughter and forcing her to suicide".

Short Love Stories | Eliza Riley | Return to Paradise 3

Short Love Stories | Eliza Riley | Return to Paradise 3


Return to Paradise
by: Eliza Riley

<3>



Looking up, Lisa could see her pain reflected in the man's eyes. For the first time in months she didn't feel alone, she felt the unbearable burden begin to lift from her, only a bit but it was a start. She began to believe that maybe she had a future after all and maybe it could be with this man, with his kind hazel eyes, wet with their shared tears.

They had come here to dissolve their marriage but maybe there was hope. Lisa stood up and took James by the hand and led him away from the bar towards the beech where they had made their vows to each other three years ago. Tomorrow she would cancel the divorce; tonight they would work on renewing their promises.


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Short Love Stories | Eliza Riley | Return to Paradise 2

Short Love Stories | Eliza Riley | Return to Paradise 2


Return to Paradise
by: Eliza Riley

<2>



Lisa sensed the man approaching even before she turned around. She had been aware of him standing there staring at her and had felt strangely calm about being observed. She looked at him and felt the instant spark of connection she had only experienced once before. He walked slowly towards her and they held each other's gaze. It felt like meeting a long lost friend - not a stranger on a strange beach.

Later, sitting at one of the many bars on the resort, sipping the local cocktails they began to talk. First pleasantries, their hotels, the quality of the food and friendliness of the locals. Their conversation was strangely hesitant considering the naturalness and confidence of their earlier meeting. Onlookers, however, would have detected the subtle flirtation as they mirrored each other's actions and spoke directly into each other's eyes. Only later, after the alcohol had had its loosening effect, did the conversation deepen. They talked of why they were here and finally, against her judgement, Lisa opened up about her heartache of the past year and how events had led her back to the place where she had married the only man she believed she could ever love. She told him of things that had been locked deep inside her, able to tell no one. She told him how she had felt after she had lost her baby.

She was six months pregnant and the happiest she had ever been when the pains had started. She was staying with her mother as James was working out of town. He hadn't made it back in time. The doctor had said it was just one of those things, that they could try again. But how could she when she couldn't even look James in the eye. She hated him then, for not being there, for not hurting as much as her but most of all for looking so much like the tiny baby boy that she held for just three hours before the took him away. All through the following months she had withdrawn from her husband, family, friends. Not wanting to recover form the pain she felt - that would have been a betrayal of her son. At the funeral she had refused to stand next to her husband and the next day she had left him.


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Short Love Stories | Eliza Riley | Return to Paradise

Short Love Stories | Eliza Riley | Return to Paradise


Return to Paradise
by: Eliza Riley

<1>



Lisa gazed out over the Caribbean Sea, feeling the faint breeze against her face - eyes shut, the white sand warm between her bare toes. The place was beautiful beyond belief, but it was still unable to ease the grief she felt as she remembered the last time she had been here.

She had married James right here on this spot three years ago to the day. Dressed in a simple white shift dress, miniature white roses attempting to tame her long dark curls, Lisa had been happier than she had ever thought possible. James was even less formal but utterly irresistible in creased summer trousers and a loose white cotton shirt. His dark hair slightly ruffled and his eyes full of adoration as his looked at his bride to be. The justice of the peace had read their vows as they held hands and laughed at the sheer joy of being young, in love and staying in a five star resort on the Caribbean island of the Dominican Republic. They had seen the years blissfully stretching ahead of them, together forever. They planned their children, two she said, he said four so they compromised on three (two girls and a boy of course); where they would live, the travelling they would do together - it was all certain, so they had thought then.

But that seemed such a long time ago now. A lot can change in just a few years - a lot of heartache can change a person and drive a wedge through the strongest ties, break even the deepest love. Three years to the day and they had returned, though this time not for the beachside marriages the island was famous for but for one of its equally popular quickie divorces.

Lisa let out a sigh that was filled with pain and regret. What could she do but move on, find a new life and new dreams? - the old one was beyond repair. How could this beautiful place, with its lush green coastline, eternity of azure blue sea and endless sands be a place for the agony she felt now?

The man stood watching from the edge of the palm trees. He couldn't take his eyes of the dark-haired woman he saw standing at the water's edge, gazing out to sea as though she was waiting for something - or someone. She was beautiful, with her slim figure dressed in a loose flowing cotton dress, her crazy hair and bright blue eyes not far off the colour of the sea itself. It wasn't her looks that attracted him though; he came across many beautiful women in his work as a freelance photographer. It was her loneliness and intensity that lured him. Even at some distance he was aware that she was different from any other woman he could meet.

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Romantic Love Quotes for lovers

Romantic Love Quotes for lovers

I love you - those three words have my life in them.
-- Alexandrea to Nicholas III

Love that we can not have is the one that lasts the longest, hurts the deepest and feels the strongest.
-- Anonymous

Soul meets soul on lover's lips.
-- Percy Bysshe Shelly

Love prefers twilight to daylight
-- Oliver Wendell Holmes

Love at first sight? I absolutely believe in it! You've got to keep the faith. Who doesn't like the idea that you could see someone tomorrow and she could be the love of your life? It's very romantic.
-- Leonardo DiCaprio

The most precious possession that ever comes
To a man in this world
Is a woman's heart.
-- Josiah G. Holland

Love is like a rumor,
Everyone talks about it,
But no one truly knows.
-- Anonymous

The essence of romantic love is that wonderful beginning, after which sadness and impossibility may become the rule.
-- Anita Brookner

We owe to the Middle Ages the two worst inventions of humanity - romantic love and gunpowder.
-- Andre Maurois

Love doesn't make the world go round,
Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.
-- Elizabeth Browning

Love is a burning desire,
That makes your heart light on fire,
Love is being with you,
Someone saying I love you too,
Love is your tender kiss,
Something you don't want to miss,
Love is you and me,
And that is all I see.
-- Anonymous

Love is that condition in which
The happiness of another person
Is essential to your own.
-- Robert A. Heinlein, Stranger in a Strange Land

Romantic Love Quotes for lovers

Funny Love Quotes

Funny Love Quotes

Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.
-- Albert Einstein

An archeologist is the best husband any woman can have; the older she gets, the more interested he is in her.
-- Agatha Christie

When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.
-- Anonymous

I was nauseous and tingly all over. I was either in love or I had smallpox.
-- Woody Allen

Love is only a dirty trick played on us to achieve continuation of the species.
-- W. Somerset Maugham

I am not one of those who do not believe in love at first sight, but I believe in taking a second look.
-- H. Vincent

Love is like a game of chess:
One false move and you're mated.
-- Anonymous

Rose are red; violets are blue;
when I think of you,
my writing comes out corny.
-- Anonymous

Love is grand; divorce is a hundred grand.
-- Anonymous

My husband and I fell in love at first sight... maybe I should have taken a second look.
-- Crimes and Misdemeanors

"First you forget names, then you forget faces. Next you forget to pull your zipper up and finally, you forget to pull it down."
-- George Burns

"Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife."
Groucho Marx

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 14

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 14

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 14 --


She picked up the ticket which her father had left for her. With Evan protectively beside her, they found their way towards the departures hallway. She stopped just short of the security clearance area and looked up at her tall travelling companion. Tears filled her eyes once more.

"Evan, thank you." she whispered, solemnly sticking out her small hand to shake his larger one. He winked at her and, instead of taking her hand, opened both his arms and wrapped the slim girl in a warm big brotherly hug.

"Thank you, sweet Sky." he crooned at her. "Take care of yourself, kiddo. And take care of your baby, okay?"

He stepped back and she turned towards the gate. She looked back over her shoulder, smiling through her tears, "Good bye Evan," she called, "I'll look for you on MTV."

He grinned at her, blew her a kiss and called back. "If it's a boy, Evan's a good strong name, ya know?"

She turned and was gone.

Thirty minutes later, Evan Kirby sat in front of the viewing lounge windows in Vancouver International Airport and watched the 767 lift into the sky heading east. He took and long drink of yet another sweet black coffee and ineffectually wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He arose, leaving the rest of his coffee where it sat, and strode quickly towards the exit doors.

THE END

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 13

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 13

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 13 --



"Yes Sir, my name is Evan Kirby." he said keeping his voice even and calm. "She kinda looked like she needed a friend. I'm a sucker for strays, ya know?"

"Seems to me, young man, I owe you." the other man said, "Meredith was lucky that it was you that picked her up and convinced her to make this call."

Evan had looked in some surprise at Sky when her father had mentioned her real name. The girl would always be Sky in his mind. "She convinced herself, Sir. I just listened, ya know?"

"Don't call me Sir, Evan. The name's Geoff Cavanaugh." Meredith's father told him. "I have a last favour to ask of you, if you could see your way clear to drive my girl to the Vancouver Airport? I'll see that a ticket home is waiting there for her."

"Yeah Mr. Cavanaugh, it'd be a pleasure." he replied.

"Thank you, Mr. Kirby. I won't ever forget what you did for her."

Neither Evan nor Sky spoke for much of the rest of the drive into Vancouver. It was starting to get light and the city was grey and somewhat somber under early morning cloud cover. Evan tuned the radio in to a local Vancouver classic rock station. Beside him, Sky gazed around at everything as though trying to memorize it; her first ever view of Vancouver. He rapidly located the route through the city to the southside and the International Airport.

"You don't have to come inside with me." she told him half-heartedly.

Evan chuckled at her. "Of course I do, baby. Completes the circle, ya know?" he parked the car, pocketed the key and walked beside her to the terminal.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 12

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 12

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 12 --


When he returned with a large styrofoam coffee cup in his hand, she was standing shivering in front of the phone. Evan put the coffee onto the roof of the big Pontiac and grabbed the blanket from the front seat. She looked sidelong at him as he draped it round her shoulders and her hesitant fingers picked up the receiver. He stepped a respectful distance away as she placed the call, picking up the coffee and staring into the darkness. It took a few moments for the operator to connect the call and she looked up at him with fear in her pretty eyes. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and a thumbs up from the hand not holding the coffee. Then her full attention went to the phone and he knew he had gambled right and her parents had accepted the call.

"Daddy," she said uncertainly. Then, "Daddy I'm okay. I'm in Abbotsford." Another pause and then, "I hitchhiked, I was looking for Ryan." She listened a long time and cast a tear-filled glance at Evan. He nodded as positively as he could at her. At last she spoke again, her voice shaking, "Daddy I have something to tell you..." a short pause, then her words came in a sobbing rush, "I'm pregnant. That's why I was looking for Ryan. And then Evan gave me a ride and he said I should call you, and I ... " She looked directly at Evan now, tears streaming again, but listening still. Finally she spoke again, "Evan is a guitar player, he's going to work in recording studios in Vancouver, he... No Daddy he's really been nice, he said to talk to you. Daddy, I wanna come home." she finished plaintively. She listened for a long time then, without warning, thrust the receiver towards Evan. At first he shook his head in dismay, then he relented and took the phone.

"Hello?" he said hesitantly.

The voice on the other end was firm but not angry. "I understand you picked up my daughter, Evan? That's right isn't it? Evan?"

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 11

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 11

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 11 --



"Yeah baby," he assured her. "They'll be upset, of course, but it'll be fine."

"I'll think about it, Evan. "Cause Ryan, ya know, he's too scared I think." she said into a silence made more profound by the fact that the CD had just ended. Evan smiled in the darkness.

Sky changed the CD again, sliding Goo Goo Dolls into the player. Shortly after that, Evan noted that she had slipped into a far more relaxed posture. Within a couple of miles, she had slumped over onto her backpack which made a good pillow. He reached behind him and pulled the blanket down from the back of the seat, spreading it across her sleeping form as best he could. Evan hummed to himself as the big Pontiac continued eat up the miles, winding down through the Fraser Canyon towards the coast.

Hours later, as Evan decelerated into a service road in Abbotsford, Sky stirred beside him. She yawned, stretched and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. When she sat upright, he saw her glancing around, trying to get some bearings, the post midnight darkness combined with the nearby brightness of street and neon lighting completely hid any landmarks from view and Evan wondered if she would have recognized them in any case.

"We're in Abbotsford, sleepyhead." he told her. "Almost there. Thought I'd stop for a coffee and maybe if you still wanna make that call...." he trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.

"Umm Evan, I'd have to call collect." she said softly. "I really didn't bring much with me."

He pulled in to an all night diner parking lot and parked next to the building where a neon blue strip lit up a pay phone. He turned to face her, reaching across the back seat for his jacket as he spoke, "So call collect. I'm betting they won't mind much about a few bucks for a phone call, just so they know their girl's okay, ya know?" Without waiting for her response, he slid from the car and she watched his retreating form enter the diner.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 10

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 10

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 10 --



Evan glanced sidelong at her, noting her hands were clutched tightly together in her lap. The expected tears didn't come but her face turned away from him and she stared out into the growing darkness. Evan spoke, without taking his eyes from the highway, "Sky, you have every right to be scared. But you gotta let that fear work for ya, baby. You've got a baby coming now and that baby needs you. What;s best for your baby, Sky? Running to Vancouver, where you might find this Ryan guy and he might help you or not. That don't sound too good for you or your baby, ya know?"

"I know." she whispered, then sobbed almost desperately, "But I can't go home now! Mom and Dad, don't even know I'm pregnant. They'd kill me." When her tears came, they were silent.

Again Evan resisted his first urge to comfort her. 'God.' he thought, 'You're in way too deep here Evan, this is a kid, having a baby!' He drove in silence as she cried herself out. Finally when she calmed a bit he spoke again.

"Sky, I don't think you're giving your parents enough credit. After all, girl, they raised you. And look at all the courage and smarts you've got. To be out here at all took guts, girl. Maybe you should think about telling them where you are, you know. And what's been going on. Then just see what happens. You can call when we get down close to Vancouver, then if you don't hear what you want, you don't have to do anything about it. Just go on and look for Ryan. That's if you still think he wants to be found."

She was silent for so long that Evan was unsure if he'd gone too far. Finally, she sniffled a couple of times and turned from the darkness towards him. "You really think it'd be okay? My parents, I mean." she asked.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 9

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 9

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 9 --


"There's some more CD's in there." You're in charge of music, okay?"

"Okay." she giggled and quickly retrieved the small stack of CD's. As he started the car and headed along the service road back to the main highway, she was going through each CD, examining the covers. She finally selected Red Hot Chili Peppers just as Evan put his foot down and accelerated west again along the highway.

Evan relaxed into his comfortable driving posture as the big car ate up the miles. Beside him, Sky continued to watch the scenery go by but as the sun was setting quickly ahead of them the once sharp images were becoming indistinct and the mountain peaks, once towering majestically over the road, began to blend into the darkening sky behind them. Evan tapped his hands in time to the music and resisted the urge to draw the girl into further conversation. More than a half an hour had passed when she finally broke the silence between them. "Evan?" she asked tentatively.

"Yah." he drawled lazily.

"If you were sixteen and your girl got pregnant, you'd be pretty scared, huh?" she asked softly.

Evan's fingers briefly stopped their rhythmic tapping. "Yeah baby, I'da been scared shitless."

"I know Ryan was scared." she conceded. "But he tried to hide it, you know? Like he was all mad at me and all. Then I heard from some of the kids that he'd split for the coast. And I got all scared too, you know? Like maybe he was just mad at me."

Evan took a deep even breath before he answered her. "It's a scary thing for both of you, Sky. That's a new life, a new person growing inside of you now."

"Yeah, I know," she murmured. "I don't know if Ryan can handle that, you know? We haven't known each other long. Like we met at the roller rink where a lotta the kids hang out. And he was so great, you know. And my girlfriends said, 'Like go for it, he's so good looking.' Then he invited me to go to this party and, well, you know....." her voice trailed off. Evan was struck by the irony that she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she had gone to bed with this so-called boyfriend but now found herself carrying his child. He made no comment, waiting for her to continue. When she spoke again, her voice was choked with emotion and unshed tears. "Now I've just gotta find him, you know? I can't do this alone. Damn, I'm so scared."

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 8

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 8

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 8 --


"Thank you, Evan." she said. "That would be good for the baby. Ryan would take care of me like that, ya know?"

"Sure kid," Evan agreed, half heartedly. She did not protest his choice of words. They both silently went back to eating.

Sky finished before him and excused herself to find the ladies room. He was surprised that she left her pack with him at the table. 'Perhaps a gesture of trust.' he thought. As he finished his fries between sips of the strong black coffee, he wondered what sort of home she had left behind and whether she had even considered how she would bring a child up on the cruel streets of a big city like Vancouver. His logic told him that she should be going home, certainly her parents must be worried and, like any parents, though they would be upset with her situation, they would help her. Sky's own assessment of her boyfriend was probably quite correct too, he thought, the kid had run because he was scared. Evan doubted that Sky's sudden appearance in Vancouver would change that any.

She returned to the table just as he gulped down the last of his coffee. He grinned at her, as he stood up, "Finish your milk, I'm just gonna recycle this coffee. Then we'll get on the road." She smiled gratefully up at him and took the milk glass in both hands as he turned away.

When they got back to the car, he unlocked her door first and held it for her as she settled herself back on the wide front seat. He opened the trunk and pulled a blanket out. When he got into the car, he draped the blanket across the back of the long front seat. He noticed she was no longer clinging to her back pack but had left it on the seat between them. He motioned to the glove compartment in front of her.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 7

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 7

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 7 --



"So, your boyfriend," he began tentatively, "He go out to Van for work too?"

She eyed him as though she were considering one of those sarcastic answers, but his soft hazel eyes met hers with nothing more than kindness and concern. She dipped a fry into the gravy and watched the gravy drip from it onto her plate as she spoke. "I don't know. He just split, ya know?"

Evan nodded, "Yeah I remember what that was like. When I was sixteen, I just split. Couldn't handle my parents and teachers telling me what to do anymore. And there was this chick, well ya know, she thought we was getting married or something. And hell, I was only sixteen. So I just split." He reached for the other half of his burger, concentrating on the food once again and letting his words sink in.

She ate her fries in silence for a while, her free hand nervously playing with a long strand of her blonde hair. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked away from him, out the window as she spoke, "It wasn't like that. He's just confused and scared is all. He'll be so happy when I get there. It'll be okay. After all, he's gonna be a daddy."

"Damn!" Evan exclaimed, all pretense of deference gone as his shock was obvious. Sky moved uneasily in her seat, taking a hold of her backpack as though she was going to simply run. He quickly recovered some of his dispassionate tone and added with a kind smile, "Congratulations that's awesome. Eat up girl, you're eating for two." The waitress came by just then and refilled Evan's coffee mug for the third time. She took Sky's now empty cola glass and asked her if she wanted more. He quickly interrupted and ordered a glass of milk for the girl before she could speak. Sky at first looked angrily at him but her face softened to a shy smile before she spoke.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 6

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 6

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 6 --



"Thank you." she murmured. She took another sip of her cola and lowered her face away from his again. He watched her hand as her fingertips brushed across her eyes and came away shiny with her liquid tears. 'She's crying.' he marvelled. He stifled his first instinct to comfort her and instead changed the subject.

"Glad you like Treble Charger," he said. "There's a lotta cool stuff happening in music these days. I'm kinda hoping I can get in with some players in Vancouver and get a regular studio gig, ya know?"

"You're a musician?" she asked.

"Yeah, guitar player." he said "Figure I'll get some work out there pretty easy. How 'bout you?"

She took another drink from her cola before replying. "I'm going to join my boyfriend."

He considered that for a moment, wondering if her parents knew she had up and run after some guy, and also, if the guy had any idea she was on the way to join him. He drained his coffee and

caught the waitress with just a quick nod and smile for a refill. As he sweetened the coffee once more, he tried to draw her out more.

"That's cool Sky." he smiled. "Bet he's happy you're gonna join him. Musta been hard to be so far apart, huh?"

The waitress came back with their cheeseburgers and Sky was silent until she had left again. Then, as she took her first bite of the burger, she mumbled a barely audible answer.

"He don't know I'm coming exactly. But he'll be happy to see me, I just know it."

Evan got the impression she was trying to convince herself. He took her lead and started on his own burger, letting the conversation slide for a while. In the light and face to face like this, Evan guessed she could not be more than half his age, fifteen maybe sixteen. After getting half way through his meal in silence, he took a long swallow of ice water and let his curiousity find voice again.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 5

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 5

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 5 --


"You're welcome hon," the hostess said, then turned towards Evan. "Your server will be with you in a moment."

He smiled up at her and nodded his thanks. As she walked away he took a long swallow of the coffee. "Man, I needed that." he chuckled. Sky smiled shyly at him and took a tiny sip from her cola, as though trying to make it last a long time. He stretched his legs comfortably beneath the table and leaned back lazily in the booth.

"Better eat now," he told her. "I'm not planning on stopping except for gas between here and the coast, it's gonna be a long night."

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and toyed with her straw. He was about to say more but decided against further comment as the waitress approached with a pad in hand. He guessed, correctly, that she did not have enough money to afford eating. 'I'm a sucker,' he thought wryly, 'But what the hell.'

"Are you ready to order?" the young woman with the pad asked with a tired smile.

"Yeah thanks," Ewan said. "We'll have two cheeseburgers deluxe, with gravy for the fries."

"Alright Sir, thank you." she said, scribbling quickly and picking up the menus. Sky stared open mouthed at him as the waitress moved away. He grinned at her in mock shock.

"What? You do eat, don't you?" he asked.

"Evan, I can't pay for this." she told him. "I'm kind of broke, you know?"

"Yeah, I kind of guessed, Sky." he answered her. "It's my treat okay? No strings, don't worry. You look like you could use a meal."

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 4

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 4

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 4 --


Evan laughed deeply and heartily. She had spirit and spunk for sure, he thought, maybe after all she was old enough to be out on the road. She laughed nervously too as though relieved he had not become angry at her sarcasm.

The car sped on eating up miles of road. Past Field, BC as they had passed from Alberta to the most western province and through Golden. As they continued through the valley between one mountain range and the next towards Revelstoke, Evan began to feel hungry and tired. 'Time for a break,' he thought, then almost guiltily he wondered how long it had been since Sky had eaten.

"We'll be in Revelstoke in about twenty minutes," he told her, "I need to get gas, and I'm gonna grab a bite, okay?"

"Okay," she said, still watching the ever changing scenery as they sped along.

When he slid from the car at the gas station she clung to her backpack and watched him with something akin to fear in her eyes. He wondered again just what she was running from or perhaps it was running to. He made a half-hearted effort to clean the highway dust and squished bugs off the windshield and when he started on her side of the glass he waved and winked at her through the window and was pleased when she relaxed a little and stuck out her tongue at him.

He pulled into a twenty-four hour highway diner just down the strip from the gas station and slid out of the car once more. Sky hesitated. Evan leaned his six foot frame over to peer across the seat at her. "You coming?" he asked.

She got out, still carrying her pack and followed him into the diner, her shorter legs moving almost at a run to keep pace with his long lazy strides. They were shown to a booth in a quiet corner of the almost empty diner and the hostess poured Evan a mug of coffee then left to get the glass of cola that Sky had requested. Evan stirred a couple of large spoons of sugar into his black coffee and glanced through the menu. He watched as Sky didn't offer to open her menu but instead idly toyed with the cutlery and paper napkin. The hostess returned with the cola and Sky thanked her softly.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 3

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 3

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 3 --


The Led Zepplin CD ended and Evan reached for the other case on the seat beside him. He held it out towards the girl and she looked at him with a question in her eyes.

"Put that on will ya." he said with a grin. She glanced at the CD and smiled shyly. She fumbled a bit with the CD player but managed to get Evan's CD in. The sounds of Treble Charger filled the car. Though he was still watching the road, he smiled as he noticed that she was tapping her feet in time to the music.

"You like?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said softly, another one-word answer.

"Cool." he replied. "They're pretty good, they rock, ya know? By the way, I'm Evan."

She glanced briefly at him and lapsed into silence, her eyes again falling to study the papers and magazines between them. When a few moments went by without a word from her, Evan tried again.

"I'm Evan." he repeated softly, "What's your name, kid?"

Her fingers brushed the magazine cover nervously before she finally spoke, "I'm Sky," she answered, "and I'm not a kid."

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as the big car negotiated an especially tight turn with a dizzying drop off on his left, but all the same he'd noticed her fingers had passed over a headline which read The Sky is Crying - SRV Gone Ten Years as she had found a voice to introduce herself. He smiled to himself.

"Okay Sky, pleased to meet you." he told her. "So what takes you to Vancouver?"

"You do." she said, with a sarcastic tone.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 2

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson 2

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 2 --


Just west of the Banff townsite there were a couple of hitchhikers along the road. The first two were a grubby looking pair of men which Evan barely looked at. But his eyes were drawn to the slim girlish figure standing alone clutching a small pack to her side almost as though it were a teddy bear. The wind was blowing her long straight blonde hair wildly from beneath her hat, a crocheted close-fitting soft turquoise cap. She wore a pair of flared, faded and somewhat tattered blue jeans and a shirt that was a tight fitting long sleeved soft knit fabric in a darker turquoise than her hat with a dragon boldly painted across the front. Evan whistled under his breath as he pulled over to pick her up. 'Geez, she's just a kid.' he thought, 'They just get younger.'

She seemed to struggle to pull open the passenger door and he was again struck by how young and fragile she looked. She put her bag on the seat between them and managed a shy smile at him before her eyes slid self-consciously to her hands in her lap. "Thanks." she said in a near whisper.

Evan put the car back into gear and glanced over his shoulder before accelerating back onto the highway. He glanced sidelong at his passenger, wondering what she was running away from. "How far you going?" he asked.

"Vancouver." she murmured softly, still only one word.

Evan chuckled lightly to himself. "Great," he told her, "I'm headed there too, you're in luck."

"Thanks." she whispered again.

Evan concentrated more on his driving now as the road wound it's way through some of the most spectacular scenery on the continent, the highway clung to mountainsides and traversed canyons and wound through rocky valley floors. He cast occasional surrepetitious looks at the girl beside him. She, for her part, was absolutely silent but her eyes watched the passing scenery with something akin to reverence.

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Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson

Short Love Stories | Highway Time | Jennifer Jenkinson

Highway Time
by: Jennifer Jenkinson

-- 1 --


The big older Pontiac sped along eating up mile upon mile of highway. The driver slouched indolently behind the wheel, his left elbow resting comfortably on the car window fingers steadying the wheel but not gripping it, tapping in time to the classic rock on the radio. His right hand gripped the wheel at almost the top, but even that grip was relaxed, almost lazy. His rich hazel eyes were hidden behind aviator style sunglasses. He had a strong chin with a neatly trimmed goatee which matched his equally neatly trimmed short black hair.

The highway he was on stretched the length of the country, The Trans-Canada Highway, and he was driving west from the prairies towards the West Coast. The Rocky Mountains stretched before him, running north to south, like an impenetrable barrier. But Evan Kirby knew better; the highway found its winding way through mountain passes across the continental divide over several ranges ending in the Pacific Coastal Range and the sea. There by the sea, on the great Fraser River Delta which two million or more souls called home, lay Vancouver: a port city, a crossroads of the world. But the draw there for Evan was the rich and bountiful entertainment industry. Evan Kirby was a guitar player. He had played with an assortment of bands in prairie towns and cities but, drawn to classic rock and the new innovative sounds coming out of some of the west coast studios, had decided to try his luck in Vancouver. After all, he had reasoned, the weather's warmer there too.

The car was a cluttered mess and a Marshall amplifier took up more than half of the back seat. Some fast food bags and beverage cups littered the floor. On the seat beside him was a Calgary newspaper, a copy of Guitarplayer Magazine and a couple of CD's. As the car cruised further into the mountains the Calgary radio station he had been listening to started to crackle and break up. Evan steadied the wheel with a couple of fingers only and loaded a CD into the player. The car was filled with the sound of Led Zepplin as he cruised through the Banff National Park Gates.

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Short Love Stories - Madeleine Rain - Jesse Miller 6

Short Love Stories - Madeleine Rain - Jesse Miller 6

Jesse Miller
Madeleine Rain

-- 6 --


Madeleine looked around the apartment and then back at Maggie.

"The first girlfriend," Madeleine added.

Maggie nodded, knowingly. "Jumpcuts," she said quietly.

Madeleine smiled. "I used to think you were a ghost."

"How do you know I'm not," Maggie grinned.

"Well. I guess I don't." She paused and looked over at the bird. "But, the bird sees you, too."

"That lovely bird's probably seen lots of ghosts."

Madeleine was quiet. She looked down at the ground. She looked back up at Maggie, her head tilted slightly like the bird. "Are you?"

Maggie paused. She sighed. "I'm not sure," she said softly. Her look became distant. Madeleine took a deep breath and step towards Maggie, squeezing her hand lightly. Closing her eyes, she leaned in and kissed Maggie just below her ear.

"I don't mind," she said.

THE END
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