LOVE IS
Word Count: 365
The girl’s name was Maricela and the man’s name was Cruz. They were the only two people in the world.
Every day Cruz would bring Maricela a gift, some small something that had caught his eye, a white plush-centered daisy, a shiny copper penny, a poem. She would accept his offerings with delight. She wove the daisies into a necklace, turned the penny into enough to buy a large fish for their dinner. The poem she sang into a song.
Their world was fresh green and flowing. Bountiful. Clean. Their sky was rainbowed and puff-clouded, sun-yellowed in morning, coral and mauve-painted as it darkened with night. The nights, oh the nights were sweet-scented with love.
Before Cruz, there hadn’t been Maricela and before her, there hadn’t been Cruz. Life started in the one instant when they connected and it rolled out before them, each day a paving stone into forever.
One day Cruz found a caterpillar, fat and fuzzy brown and picked it up in his hand. “Ah,” he said, “she’ll now have a pet, to stroke and to cuddle, to keep her feet warm as the summer fades into the fall.” He carefully put the caterpillar into his shirt pocket, along with a ballpoint pen and a green glass coke bottle he found.
“Close your eyes, dear one,” he said when he came home. Maricela closed her eyes and smiled as he took her hand and held it palm up in his. Then he placed the fuzzy little caterpillar in the center of her open hand.
The gates of hell flew open. Maricela shrieked, opened her eyes, threw the caterpillar flying across the room where it smashed and dribbled down the wall. She cried, hopping up and down in surprise and fear.
Cruz was heartbroken of course, and it took him a long time to calm her; a cup of tea, a primrose plucked from the edge of their garden, a host of soothing words, an apology, a promise, and dinner and dishes and all. Maricela stopped shaking and crying, forgave him and assured him of her undying love. But life for the two was never the same again.
Wow. This is pregnant. I especially like: “Life started in the one instant when they connected and it rolled out before them, each day a paving stone into forever.” Hm, perhaps a poem is in order for tomorrow.
Funny thing is, I almost named them Maricela and Cruz because they really sprang from your work I think. The caterpillar I realized was an image left in my mind from Sabin’s photo so I credited her for the influence.
It also links well to John’s: http://100images100days2011.wordpress.com/2011/06/14/day-25/ and to Susan’s: http://100dayscubed.blogspot.com/2011/06/day-25-june-14-2011-row-row-row-your.html
Actually, I just went back and linked to Susan’s and John’s, since I had looked and read these before I finished writing this and as Sabin’s caterpillar crept in, I’m sure I was influenced by their posts as well. And, with your permission, I lifted their anonymity and returned them to their real names.