The Frisson
Lyla
My apartment hadn't changed from when I walked out last. The same glass crystals hung from the celling in all rooms and glistened with any light that met its surface. I sighed and put my bag on the vintage couch and sunk into the space next to it.
Newspaper clips from the past seven years hung on the wall in a large collage of information. From politics to small neighborhood successes, I had everything I needed to know right in my home. I couldn't help but think maybe knowing wasn't enough. Then again, what do I know? I ignored the thought and walked around, running my fingertips across the almost filled walls, kicking any excess paper on the ground.
The phone rang.
"Hello? Lyla?"
"Merideth?" Merideth was a good friend from high school, and my roommate in college. We hadn't spoken since I graduated from the university because of a fight. I don't even remember what the fight was about.
"Lyla, I was hoping this was you. I'm in the city, and I was thinking maybe we could catch up...over a cup of coffee or something."
"I don't drink coffee..." My voice trailed off and I blinked, trying to grasp my mind around the call. "But if you want to go somewhere where there's tea, or hot chocolate, that'd be fine." It's been too long since I've had a real, friendly conversation. The rest of the phone call consisted of specific details of the coffee date. Thankfully I wrote down what I heard as I heard it. My mind was elsewhere.
Merideth. Merideth. Merideth. The years with Merideth was one I wish I could relive forever.
Bass and heavy guitar pulsed in our teenage blood, the excitement of graduation not even close to wearing off. Panic of moving away to college clung to my skin and left a frisson that resided in my backbone. A frisson. Chills. A feeling created by the recipe of excitement mixed with nerves and anxiety. College. The adventure that nothing could compare to.
I tapped the side my red plastic cup filled with cheap alchohol. People from my high school days moved around me in a fluent motion, talking of their plans, their futures, their past. Most of all, their minds swam through clouds of nostalgia.
I watched Merideth dancing with David. Her curly hair bouncing across her bare shoulders and David caressing her hips. Neither her nor David were talented dancers, but they didn't mind. They were high off life with a small feeling of intimacy tied together with eachother's past. Nothing could stop this feeling of the transition between safety to a world of the unknown.
If only I were part of the feeling.
Newspaper clips from the past seven years hung on the wall in a large collage of information. From politics to small neighborhood successes, I had everything I needed to know right in my home. I couldn't help but think maybe knowing wasn't enough. Then again, what do I know? I ignored the thought and walked around, running my fingertips across the almost filled walls, kicking any excess paper on the ground.
The phone rang.
"Hello? Lyla?"
"Merideth?" Merideth was a good friend from high school, and my roommate in college. We hadn't spoken since I graduated from the university because of a fight. I don't even remember what the fight was about.
"Lyla, I was hoping this was you. I'm in the city, and I was thinking maybe we could catch up...over a cup of coffee or something."
"I don't drink coffee..." My voice trailed off and I blinked, trying to grasp my mind around the call. "But if you want to go somewhere where there's tea, or hot chocolate, that'd be fine." It's been too long since I've had a real, friendly conversation. The rest of the phone call consisted of specific details of the coffee date. Thankfully I wrote down what I heard as I heard it. My mind was elsewhere.
Merideth. Merideth. Merideth. The years with Merideth was one I wish I could relive forever.
Bass and heavy guitar pulsed in our teenage blood, the excitement of graduation not even close to wearing off. Panic of moving away to college clung to my skin and left a frisson that resided in my backbone. A frisson. Chills. A feeling created by the recipe of excitement mixed with nerves and anxiety. College. The adventure that nothing could compare to.
I tapped the side my red plastic cup filled with cheap alchohol. People from my high school days moved around me in a fluent motion, talking of their plans, their futures, their past. Most of all, their minds swam through clouds of nostalgia.
I watched Merideth dancing with David. Her curly hair bouncing across her bare shoulders and David caressing her hips. Neither her nor David were talented dancers, but they didn't mind. They were high off life with a small feeling of intimacy tied together with eachother's past. Nothing could stop this feeling of the transition between safety to a world of the unknown.
If only I were part of the feeling.
♠ ♠ ♠
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