provenance: unknown

(untitled)

by Les Stickles

She was awkward at first. Certainly she was older and in my mind could make no real claim to unease. Even if it was chance, I was never ambivalent. I pushed and pushed and made it happen. There was no way to back off. The five hundred times in my life that I let it slide because of fear or confusion or what I thought was patience and was really just fear suddenly came to a head. To deny the clarity of the moment would have made me a coward. I think she told me first, but my cowardice had disappeared into the moment, supplanted by a power and confidence that denied the very possibility of cowardice or even cowardice disguised as reason.

She was beautiful. I never felt so alive. This was beyond the magazines; it was beyond the two dimensions or the four dimensions of this idea, which I'd always believed would be the final truth, based on knowing whispers by friends and every covenant held sacred by man and god.

She was positive. She knew days before. Maybe she didn't say at the time, for reasons probably very much opposite of and the same as my own in our union. We were joined by a need to deny the past, embrace the intoxicating power we felt in the present, and to feel immortal once again.

She had to tell me. Now I have been tested, and as of today my results remain outstanding.


1/12/02

Copyright ©2002 Les Stickles

NAVIGATE

. Home
. Web Editing
. Stray Voices
. Writings
  .. Truths
  .. Fictions
  .. Contribute
. About