The letter
Atson opened the house front door, arms hanging and shoulders slumped, his heavy steps went straight to the sofa where a shivering body dropped.
Powa closed the door, her eyes shut down as she took a long deep breath. She stood still for a while until the black envelope from the red mailbox called her attention. Near the phone she found it, yet sealed. As soon as she touched it, goosebumps rippled through her entire body, she was thrilled from the inside without any logical explanation. She threw the black envelope back to its original place, fingernails tapping on the small entry door table, distracting her from an unknown disturbance.
When she kicked off her comfortable brown boots and shrugged off her beige raincoat, her hands were already sweaty, chords were standing out in her neck, veins were throbbing and jutting, a pressure was hurting her chest. Under such inexplicable weight, an impulse filled her with a force that she was unable to back up. She picked up the letter and looked at it carefully. Before her eyes, it unsealed itself. She let it drop on the floor and stepped back.
It took her precious minutes to make sense of what was happening right in front of her eyes, despite any of her disbeliefs, the show was being performed. A black paper slowly came through, followed by individual golden letters that flew into the air. At first, they were clumsy and playful, but soon they found their proper place on the paper and revealed a meaningful message. It was an unusual legal correspondence, short and concise.
Mr. Gilberg, a lawyer, sent a letter to Powa Gelan from a small town called Spotown. He requested her presence on September 24, at three o’clock in the afternoon to treat a legal matter of great significance.
As she was reading the letter, she felt tingles on her fingers, without prior notice, information secretly held in the letter imprinted a map on her fingers. Seldom was she aware that it would stick to her in order to be activated in due time to provide her with clear guidance and protection.
Meanwhile, in the far distance, a bell started ringing cheerfully, sending tiny fragments of its sounds to Powa’s mind, even though they instantaneously slid off a brain that was far from ready to receive them, instead, it was violently trying to make sense of the strange incidents that it had just witnessed. Verily, Powa’s thoughts were extremely busy distorting the recent events to make them suit the reality she was accustomed to. Thus, she visited and revisited the story of her life, but, as much as she was able to recall past episodes or tried to follow a thread that pulled her into famous Spotown, nothing occurred to her.
Frenetically, she started moving up and down the stairs, relocating objects and decorations, went to the bathroom countless times until she softened her concerns. Tired of moving around in the maze that her home had become, she took a deep breath, and headed to the kitchen.
A fresh glass of water uplifted and carried her to a peaceful realm only she could sense. The angel’s wings of the green plant in an artistic red pot were spreading love upon a small eating table where she put the empty glass. Then, back in the living room, she covered Atson with a gray woolen blanket, let out a gentle sight and gave him the letter.
The chilled till the bones touch, the muscle rigidity that he felt strongly were all evidences of body residues condensed in a single shot. The letter fell down on the emerald carpet. Once again, in the void, eyes squeezed and shut down, a salty tear rolled down his left cheek, it could no longer be contained.
Powa gathered her strength picked up the letter and left the room. Alone on the couch, Atson sought refuge in a mind that switched subjects. He sank into a reverie and started dreaming of the season during which he was dating Powa.
They were teens, they met in the strangest conceivable ways and were attracted toward one another with such a force that not being together was unthinkable. In essence, it came pouring out of a spark in a dream, an innocent spark that would never cease to exist or rest until its destiny was reached. Places out of physical existence were made vivid, feelings were felt pure, intentions were made real and a sincere yearning for the encounter of two bodies traveled endlessly through time and space, like a beam of a bright light, endlessly seeking the union in the infinite spaces.
The day they met for the first time on the terrestrial plane, she gently susurrated ― I know you from a dream! ― A heavenly sent young man became a gentle caress in her waking life. Only the metal bench in the park, under a wide-open blue sky, bore witness of the rekindling of that precious spark in their physical hearts. It was a flame burning with such intensity that a promise of everlasting true love sealed the bond in privacy.
Atson would never forget the day he made his way through the crowd just to see people’s jaw-dropping when they looked at Powa. She was walking tall in her high-heel golden sandals, an atypical short yellow silk dress waving in the gentle spring breeze, perfectly casting rays of fine sensual curves. Once more, he was spontaneously seduced and intrigued by such ravishing beauty, a single force of nature, whose green crystal eyes were as if hiding deep mystical secrets that he was fervently willing to uncover. His left hand in his pocket, Atson was juggling with two seashells.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
That day, he tasted her lips for the first time, he lingered in the sweetness of a long soft kiss amidst the deliciousness of a spicy floral perfume. He held her tightly in his arms, pulled her close to his chest, felt the dance of her heartbeats and desire underneath the dress. As he slightly pressed himself a little more against her, she felt a growing passion that made her blush and smile. Their fingers touched… They held hands as his sexy voice whispered words meshed in worlds where magic was an intrinsic part of the lyrics ― I love you!... ― She was caught in a tale depicted in rich details, in which her heart was blooming in a chest already emanating an inner natural vibrancy, a ray of the Real Feel.
Then one day, enticed by her unique charm, nature took the lead. He unbuttoned her blouse, caressed her bare skin and they dove into the pleasure of the flesh. He grasped her with a strong impulse, their naked bodies intertwined into each other, her legs wrapped around his hips, his hands carefully held her head, his lips covered her mouth, and he drank from the echoes of her intense moans. In tune with the pace of nature, both submitted to the utmost touch of love, in which she brought all her flavors. He felt his head spinning, got lost in her speed, they disappeared from planet Earth. He explored new realms, died in her arms, only to be reborn in the explosion of the orgasm, in the ecstasy of a man he had never been before. Since that cherished day, their physical connection compelled them to flee in each other arms heartedly.
The day he proposed, down to his knees, in an immaculate sense of style, a diamond ring in hand, he asked ―Will you marry me?She nodded ― Yes! ― and exuded her happiness with a burst of tiny particles gracefully glittering in her eyes. Intimately, she was feeling every cell of her body praising Atson´s sexy brain, an inner charm that enthralled a powerful fascination.
It was not long before the wedding bells confidently rang amid the rain pouring down outside, while Powa’s wedding dress illuminated the guests’ admiration during the nuptial hymn. Each step she took toward the altar was like rebirthing sparkles of love in Aton’s heart. He began feeling restless, he wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to remind her how much passionate love she was bringing into his world. When he touched her finger with the wedding ring, she knew down to the core of her being that he would honor his engagement for the rest of their lives. The kiss sealed the deal.
The best man, Valter, and the maid of honor, Calsy, proposed a toast. The clinging of the festivity under a magnificent rainbow raised an auspicious future in which both were the protagonists of their own love story.
Oh! The honeymoon that followed was spent in a cocoon of love, a paradisiac island, among palm trees, butterflies, a bright sun and a luxurious honeymoon suite. The softness of the sand massaged their feet, the sounds of the dancing waves strengthened their hearts’ vitality, swims in the salt waters strengthen their bodies, whose skin was being adorned with honeyed tones.
In the evening, after delicious meals and wonderful talks with the inhabitants of the island, they would take an agreeable walk along the beach to appreciate the sunset. And then, in the luxurious honeymoon suite, in the horizon of their love, they would passionately sparkle that pristine union with adoration, imprinting unique feelings of elation during those intimate choreographed dances, secretly wrapped in a vast sense of eternity.
When they returned to the city, the worries that were upsetting most of the citizens did not affect them with the same intensity as before. Somehow, as a couple, they outgrew an existing turbulence that was dictating the movements. A pull towards the peaceful nature increased their love for the land, the search for quiet spaces and vast open fields was their main drive. Under favorable weather, they would enjoy having picnics, eating outside while instinctively weaving connections to the wind and the sun, the trees and the grass, the insects and the animals, in parks and grasslands.
Once, they had a hilarious encounter, a story that they enjoyed sharing with their friends over and over again, untiringly. During a sunny afternoon, they were having a five-star picnic in a park when an uninvited guest joined them, a squirrel stole some food from the plates on the white cloth, stared at them before unapologetically running away and scurrying up and down the nearest tree trunk. They had that kind of laugher that make the belly ache and their friends almost mimicked the behavior as they listened to them telling and retelling the same tale.
Abruptly, Atson’s thoughts pull him back from his reverie, completely bewildered, in an attempt to control himself, he got even more confused, his right ear started ringing, perhaps it was a bug stuck or some kind of telepathic transmission. Either way, he was unwilling to investigate, tiredness took the lead, he shut down his awareness and fell asleep in the blink of an eye, under the cozy woolen blanket.
In the morning, he woke up in his bed, not sure how he got there, was it a daydream or a dreadful nightmare? It took him long minutes to regain balance, the day before trying to force its way, eager to flash across his eyes, unequivocally desirous to cause dangerous slippery steps that could make him crash into the ground, where a small insect was already creeping up on one of his sleepers.
That same day, at the local elementary school, the noise of the ringing bell mixed with children’s chants had the power to massage Powa’s temples. She was carrying a debilitated body, reluctant to follow, lazy in activity and creativity. However, the classes ran their course without major interruptions. Students were wise enough to notice Powa’s drowsiness, nonetheless, they collaborated to make the day work, thus, allowing Powa’s muse to make some occasional appearances. During the break-time, she made all the arrangements for Friday afternoon.
In the late evening, Powa was yawning, but was still functioning. She walked straight to the kitchen and made firm gestures to prepare the dinner. She managed to find ways to lift herself up, gathered inspiration as she remembered the day, felt a tingle up the spine, and approached the situation through a novel position. During the meal, she suggested that they could spend the weekend at Spotown, reap a quick spray of fresh air in a new environment. Atson shook his head with no sign of enthusiasm, still, she was pleased that he agreed to travel to that strange land.
Once again, in the far distance, the bells started ringing, sending tiny fragments of sounds to Powa’s brain, which was not ready to make sense of the pieces, yet.