The search before death

I had tried searching around my life but, the disappointments came back to roost. I shuffled through the shelves certain I was looking for something hopefully with a promising result. The only problem was that I wasn't sure exactly what it was that I was looking for. I tore through aisles and flipped through text and yet nothing. 

In vain I went back to my nine to five drill that did nothing but waste my life away. I loosened my shirt and dabbed off the beads of sweat lining my brow. My pork belly jutted out as I reclined my chair a little bit. In the stifling wave my nostrils flared and picked up a scent. 

I felt my brains coil and my heart pounded my lithe chest. Suddenly a flicker glinted in the darkness. Or did it? I ran through a matrix of mixed emotions.

She came in through the main entrance in a light cotton dress that traced her body. An exotic straw hat sat on top of deep hazel eyes. Supple cheekbones accentuated her beauty and an alarmingly perfect jawline made her a figure of unbecoming imagination. My pantomime trance was cut short by a notification on my phone.

"Hey John.

It’s been three months. I know I hurt you and I duly admit but the time we've spent together was one of the highlighters of my best days. It pains me the most to see you in such pain, and believe me I would jump into the past to take away the pain I caused you in a heartbeat.

Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I never meant to hurt you."

With a quick glance at the notification I immediately put my phone away feeling an itch in my skin. I lifted my head up to a callipygous figure fading away into the fortress of literature. I was definitely biting out of a slice of heaven. If I followed her I would be a stalker and if I sat behind my desk I would never really find that which my soul yearned for. Stalking I decided. It came as no surprise because I felt like I knew her now. 

She took a Shakespeare from the teak shelf stretching infinitely. From top to bottom it was filled with drama, romance and the sort which rarely amounts to reality. All the while she didn’t know she had two shadows, the other only a bit inconspicuous but tied around her soul. She headed to the center of the library furnished well enough to host a community of readers. The usual smell of paper soon became a lavender sensation with a tinge of mint. For a moment I couldn’t believe my luck. 

“This seat taken?” I asked already situating myself right across her.

She shook her head with a subtle smile that shredded my nerves. I held my disguise upside down and within minutes I was deep in the “so called” concentration.

“Hmm you must be some sort of genius I take it” she broke the graveyard silence.

“What do you mean?” I asked feeling my feet slip away. It was the softness of her voice that startled me.

“Well, where I come from they usually do it the right side up” 

I slightly frowned. I was totally confused. “Still I don’t get you” I said feeling my cheeks turn red all the while from the priceless gaze she gave me and the lock of her unbelievable eyes.

“I mean the book is upside down. Do you read upside down?”

I felt the shelves in the aisles close in and the air chocked me. My mouth felt heavy.

“O-oh Oh this. I didn’t get to the reading part. Was still contemplating what has transpired over time.”

“In the book?”

“No. I mean yes. No. Sorry I’m John.”

She took a long narrow look at me. Her red manicured thin fingers tapping gently on the table top. She had that aura of maturity, perhaps a bit too much for someone in her early thirty’s.

“If I may ask John what’s got you all jittery?”

“Maybe your name might give a brother some calm”

She chuckled and her crimson lips let out a healthy sparkle. Meanwhile I could feel my insides separate but, somehow I managed to put up some improvised front to try and impress what could be a potential end to the search. The table never felt so still and I ever wished for the surrounding chairs to lend some bit of lucidity to the situation.

“Oh my” she gasped casting her head back in mock surprise. “Where are my manners. I’m Trish”

“Well Trish if anything it’s a pleasure knowing you”

“And Trish would like to know what’s bothering John.”

This when it all felt too good to be true. I had to be dreaming. A little voice in me stuck out for a brother. I was infatuated and only Trish made sense for the moment.

“I see you don’t waste time.”

“Why would I? After all, we can get anything we want but, time doesn’t fall from the skies.”

“Well it’s this complicated relationship that is sagging me down”

“What about it”

“Well I’d prefer talking about moving on.”

“For goodness' sake! So fast?”

“We can get anything we want but, not time someone said once.” I said feeling some type of way. Suddenly I felt like I controlled the narrative. Trish crouched closer across the table, her arms clutching her generous bosom while planted firmly to the table. Her eyes were almost droopy and her lower lip curled a sexy kink along her mouth. She whispered,

“Well John, let’s say I was your girlfriend.”

She stopped and was silent for a while. Her eyes rummaged my entire being. Trish stood up and circled around the table her right index finger tracing an invisible line seductively and she sat next to me. The earth stood still.

“Y - e - a - h” I said under my breath. I felt like I swallowed my tongue. She was so close I could feel her sweet breath and the soft plodding of her heart. I swear she had never been so easy her entire life and meanwhile I was a clogged train engine. I was dying to know what next.

“What would you do?” she broke the nervewrecking interlude.

Talk about a tight spot. My face went blank and I could feel myself draining away. I was a goner. Trish gave me a run for my money. Dear Casanova, now was the perfect time to show up, like poetic justice in any cheesy story. Unfortunately, it was me and fate going head to head and what I was going to say was the endgame.

“Treasure you like you were the last woman on earth” I replied. Cliché? I know. My arsenal wasn’t the best considering the circumstances.

“Liar” she whispered in a brisk husky tone. 

I felt the cold metal muzzle dip into my skin. My heart exploded. I swear the blood rush tore a few vessels. I felt numb and my groin area was unusually warm.

“Get out of my hair pervert”

All I remember were the ridicule ripe stares from the literature community and muffled comments about a growing repugnant air. I guess she disappeared but left me with a strong message and a memory that will follow me beyond the grave.

What now? Is it closure, peace, love that I seek? I don’t know. I still search with a fear that someday I might actually die.