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Description
Clyde
§

Addison upstairs, the kids just left their plates on the table, I sighed and started to clean up. It was my one free weekend since my promotion and all she wants to do is relax. It’s been two months now and the company’s been flourishing. I just got assigned a new secretary. A personal assistant! Sometimes, and I guiltily admit, I call her to schedule appointments that I don’t really hold, just to flex my power. Usually though whenever those appointments come around I just sit there and tell Julie that it was a scheduling error. Sometimes we go out to lunch for a lack of something better to do. I remember when Addison and I used to be like that; actually, one moment in particular.

§

It was cloudy out and I had just gotten off my break and decided to pass my time in an art gallery between shifts; it was close and the most interesting thing there. I walked inside and was instantly bombarded by the bright reds and yellows, blends that portrayed all sorts of emotions that confused and delighted my senses. I wondered aimlessly for a few minutes, the abstract sculptures in the center of the room, paintings on the walls. I was so engrossed in the colorful images that I didn’t notice the woman walking across in the opposite direction. We collided as two meteors impacting the moon. Books flew everywhere and I could spot several of my papers floating gracefully out of my briefcase. As we both exclaimed sorry and bent down to help the other with their fallen possessions our heads impacted a second time.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed “I’m so sorry, I completely didn’t see you.” Then she paused and looked at me a moment. Her red-brunette hair ruffled and her teeth sparkling as she smiled. “I believe we’ve met before, It’s Addison, remember? From your sociology class.? Bremshire ’86! I thought you looked familiar” her voice, even today reminds me of wind chimes. Twinkling so carefree in the wind with out a care in the world. I even remember the purple jacket she wore with her green under blouse and those ridiculously outlandish scarves. I hesitated a moment and then caught her smirk and quickly followed up.

“Uh, yeah, yeah! I remember. Professor Sphindle, how could I forget?” I smiled uneasily and marveled at her grace; how she underwent a head-on collision and seemed not even the least bit frazzled, except for straight reddish- brown hair.

“Hey, we should grab some lunch and reminisce sometime, you free?” inside I knew I wasn’t, I had 2o minutes until I was supposed to be at my next shift.

“Totally! That sounds like fun! I was just on my way out to lunch anyway” I lied. With my brief case in one hand and her purse in my other we made out way down the street and turned left into my favorite eatery. We sat down and I ordered a Panini and a salad hoping to impress her with my cultured taste buds. We discussed our old professor and college peers, how now that we’ve graduated we see the whole experience in a different light. I told her about my new accounting job, got to start at the bottom of the ladder and work our way up. I told her that while it may not seem like much the job was quite promising. There were plenty of opportunities to branch off into and I could have a more stable job by the end of February. The statistics were good. 87 to 92 chance of my getting spotted if I worked two shifts which increased the original percent by at least 5; I could tell she was loosing interest so I changed the topic quickly.

“So, what is it you do know that you’ve got your life ahead of you?” If it’s one thing my mom ever taught me, it’s that people love to talk about themselves. She hesitated and a hesitance little frown stole across her face; hardly the reaction I had anticipated.

“Well, actually, that’s the thing….” She trailed off and I felt as if I wanted to reach out and wipe off her frown like a smudge. I smiled at her encouragingly and prompted her by suggesting that no one’s had a glamorous first year. She looked at me ashamedly and started with a stammer.

“It, it’s j-just that I graduated with a degree in fine arts, and since then I’ve found the art not to be so fine…” she trailed off once again and this time I was determined to help her find her way back.

“Starving artist?” I offered, and she bowed her head in solemn agreement. “That’s ok, it can’t be that bad, I mean, we all have our low points”. I could see it in her eyes that she didn’t think I understood. A guilty feeling crept up my insides and I felt that I had uncovered an old wound. I was determined to make it better. Reluctantly she held out her hands and displayed the tattered gloves shamefully for me to see. For the first time I noticed the layers of clothing and made the connection between the weight of her bag and the essentials needed for a life on the streets.

“These past few weeks have been…tough” I could tell by the light of her eyes that she had been sleeping wherever she could find a place to stay. The posture of her back gave lie to several nights spend on park bench.

Look” I said, not really knowing what I was getting myself into. “I have a spare room in my apartment. I could offer you a place to stay until you get back up on your feet.” Her expression and manner was too dignified to accept my offer but I could tell that she had no where else to go.

“I couldn’t possibly impose like that, you’re a very busy man and you’ve got your life ahead of you; I don’t want to be a burden…” but I stopped her mid-sentence.
“No not at all! It’d be no problem, I could use the company any way.” She smiled at me, a full unfaltering smile that caused bubbles of glee to rise up from my stomach, and I knew I had won.

“Just for a few days, you really are too kind” the waiter came to take our dishes and I smiled back at her, conveying my personal warmth. That seemed to comfort her. For, I could tell, by her posture that she was more at ease.
“Very well, then, let’s celebrate to your new home!” I declared causing a shy smile spread across her face.

“It’s only for a little while” she responded with sheepish flattery. I paid the bill in full and waited for her to compose herself in the bathroom. With a glance at my clock I left a message on my boss’s answering machine saying I was feeling a little out of the weather and promised to make it up in full plus some. I breathed to look at my chances. The statistics were good. Friendly offer + generous dinner – awkwardness of living together = a good chance of affection. My calculations completed, I felt my confidence soar. I licked my hand and ran it through the font of my hair, the part that always stood up. When she returned I smiled with my head held about 15° higher. Yes, things looked good. We made our way down the street. I held the door open for her when she walked past.

Description
Clyde
§

Addison upstairs, the kids just left their plates on the table, I sighed and started to clean up. It was my one free weekend since my promotion and all she wants to do is relax. It’s been two months now and the company’s been flourishing. I just got assigned a new secretary. A personal assistant! Sometimes, and I guiltily admit, I call her to schedule appointments that I don’t really hold, just to flex my power. Usually though whenever those appointments come around I just sit there and tell Julie that it was a scheduling error. Sometimes we go out to lunch for a lack of something better to do. I remember when Addison and I used to be like that; actually, one moment in particular.

§

It was cloudy out and I had just gotten off my break and decided to pass my time in an art gallery between shifts; it was close and the most interesting thing there. I walked inside and was instantly bombarded by the bright reds and yellows, blends that portrayed all sorts of emotions that confused and delighted my senses. I wondered aimlessly for a few minutes, the abstract sculptures in the center of the room, paintings on the walls. I was so engrossed in the colorful images that I didn’t notice the woman walking across in the opposite direction. We collided as two meteors impacting the moon. Books flew everywhere and I could spot several of my papers floating gracefully out of my briefcase. As we both exclaimed sorry and bent down to help the other with their fallen possessions our heads impacted a second time.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed “I’m so sorry, I completely didn’t see you.” Then she paused and looked at me a moment. Her red-brunette hair ruffled and her teeth sparkling as she smiled. “I believe we’ve met before, It’s Addison, remember? From your sociology class.? Bremshire ’86! I thought you looked familiar” her voice, even today reminds me of wind chimes. Twinkling so carefree in the wind with out a care in the world. I even remember the purple jacket she wore with her green under blouse and those ridiculously outlandish scarves. I hesitated a moment and then caught her smirk and quickly followed up.

“Uh, yeah, yeah! I remember. Professor Sphindle, how could I forget?” I smiled uneasily and marveled at her grace; how she underwent a head-on collision and seemed not even the least bit frazzled, except for straight reddish- brown hair.

“Hey, we should grab some lunch and reminisce sometime, you free?” inside I knew I wasn’t, I had 2o minutes until I was supposed to be at my next shift.

“Totally! That sounds like fun! I was just on my way out to lunch anyway” I lied. With my brief case in one hand and her purse in my other we made out way down the street and turned left into my favorite eatery. We sat down and I ordered a Panini and a salad hoping to impress her with my cultured taste buds. We discussed our old professor and college peers, how now that we’ve graduated we see the whole experience in a different light. I told her about my new accounting job, got to start at the bottom of the ladder and work our way up. I told her that while it may not seem like much the job was quite promising. There were plenty of opportunities to branch off into and I could have a more stable job by the end of February. The statistics were good. 87 to 92 chance of my getting spotted if I worked two shifts which increased the original percent by at least 5; I could tell she was loosing interest so I changed the topic quickly.

“So, what is it you do know that you’ve got your life ahead of you?” If it’s one thing my mom ever taught me, it’s that people love to talk about themselves. She hesitated and a hesitance little frown stole across her face; hardly the reaction I had anticipated.

“Well, actually, that’s the thing….” She trailed off and I felt as if I wanted to reach out and wipe off her frown like a smudge. I smiled at her encouragingly and prompted her by suggesting that no one’s had a glamorous first year. She looked at me ashamedly and started with a stammer.

“It, it’s j-just that I graduated with a degree in fine arts, and since then I’ve found the art not to be so fine…” she trailed off once again and this time I was determined to help her find her way back.

“Starving artist?” I offered, and she bowed her head in solemn agreement. “That’s ok, it can’t be that bad, I mean, we all have our low points”. I could see it in her eyes that she didn’t think I understood. A guilty feeling crept up my insides and I felt that I had uncovered an old wound. I was determined to make it better. Reluctantly she held out her hands and displayed the tattered gloves shamefully for me to see. For the first time I noticed the layers of clothing and made the connection between the weight of her bag and the essentials needed for a life on the streets.

“These past few weeks have been…tough” I could tell by the light of her eyes that she had been sleeping wherever she could find a place to stay. The posture of her back gave lie to several nights spend on park bench.

Look” I said, not really knowing what I was getting myself into. “I have a spare room in my apartment. I could offer you a place to stay until you get back up on your feet.” Her expression and manner was too dignified to accept my offer but I could tell that she had no where else to go.

“I couldn’t possibly impose like that, you’re a very busy man and you’ve got your life ahead of you; I don’t want to be a burden…” but I stopped her mid-sentence.
“No not at all! It’d be no problem, I could use the company any way.” She smiled at me, a full unfaltering smile that caused bubbles of glee to rise up from my stomach, and I knew I had won.

“Just for a few days, you really are too kind” the waiter came to take our dishes and I smiled back at her, conveying my personal warmth. That seemed to comfort her. For, I could tell, by her posture that she was more at ease.
“Very well, then, let’s celebrate to your new home!” I declared causing a shy smile spread across her face.

“It’s only for a little while” she responded with sheepish flattery. I paid the bill in full and waited for her to compose herself in the bathroom. With a glance at my clock I left a message on my boss’s answering machine saying I was feeling a little out of the weather and promised to make it up in full plus some. I breathed to look at my chances. The statistics were good. Friendly offer + generous dinner – awkwardness of living together = a good chance of affection. My calculations completed, I felt my confidence soar. I licked my hand and ran it through the font of my hair, the part that always stood up. When she returned I smiled with my head held about 15° higher. Yes, things looked good. We made our way down the street. I held the door open for her when she walked past.