Once again I have two Dale For A Day contributors, both wish to remain anonymous.
Dale For A Day by Anon 1.
Part One: Him.
His heart skipped a beat.
It always did when her name appeared in the glowing electrons of his computer monitor. And there she was. Her IM avatar was a bright green car, and that was the image he associated with her. Every time he saw one on the street, she popped into his mind.
"This is bad," he thought. Very bad. It's becoming close to obsession, although "obsession" isn't quite the right word. Infatuation? Attraction? He'd never met her, and it was unlikely that he would in the near future. Still, he thought about her day and night (wasn't that a song? "Day and night... night and day..." Who was that? Cole Porter?). He looked for reasons to go online; to see if she was there.
He could only imagine her voice, for they had never spoken. He had a vague idea of what she looked like, from the many pictures she'd posted. Looks weren't important to him...not really. He'd dated all types of women, but she really was exceptionally beautiful in his eyes. He never told her this, of course. It seemed, well...kind of creepy. Besides, it didn't matter. They were having great conversations about life. Love. Art. Music. No subject was off limits, no secrets, no bullshit, no hidden agendas...
Well. That wasn't exactly true, was it now?
So what should he call this? A crush? Yeah. That was probably the best word for it. He had a crush on this amazing, intelligent woman that he'd never met. This was bad. Very bad. For a lot of very good reasons.
All this went through his head in the instant that it took for him to recognize that she was online again. His hands went to the keyboard. "Hey Sunshine!" he typed.
Part Two: Her.
"Hey Sunshine!"
The words appeared on her screen, and her heart skipped a beat. Just like it always did when he greeted her like that.
His avatar--a closeup photo of a rock on the sidewalk--always made her smile. Every time she kicked a stone, she thought of him. Not that she'd ever kick him, mind you. No, she had other things in mind for him that didn't involve kicking...
"No!" she suddenly yelled aloud. Her roommate shot her a glance. Shit. This was bad. Now she was talking to the voices in her head.
What was it about him that made her act like this? She'd never met him. She probably never would. And yet, they would IM each other for hours on end. At first, it was just cute. Then it became fun. Now, it was...well, it was something else.
He didn't appeal to her. For a lot of very, very, VERY good reasons, he wasn't her type. In fact, he was someone else's type, and for that matter, someone else's altogether. So they had an amazing friendship. A weird friendship, but a true one nonetheless.
Still...
Fuck. This can't become a crush. "You're smarter than this," she said aloud, as her fingers reached for the keyboard. Her roommate looked up from her book. "What did you say?" she asked.
"Nothing."
She pecked out the words on the screen: "Hey Stoney!"
SEND.
Dale For A Day by Anon 2.
And why won't I budge him? I think I've told myself that I'm scared. I think, and that's the cause of this paralysis/ I'm scared of the "I',- the "eye". the "I". -Twist of pronounciation and your meaning is too clear. It cuts. The "you" was hard enough to deal with,- they say it would have been easier if I'd "felt" rather than "dealt" but hey, they rhyme so they can't be that different. But put them in a poem, twist 'em round a bit, hell, they'll eventually say anything you almost think you want them to.
No, it's the "I", I ( I Claudius, I Heathcliff), I (the forgiven) take thee (the trapped) to be my lawfully wedded etcetera.
The truly stunning sunburst here is that you are (and always have been) unaware of my howl and roar, my tooth and fang.
This wail is the threnody of the woman who finds herself too late.
Dale For A Day by Anon 1.
Part One: Him.
His heart skipped a beat.
It always did when her name appeared in the glowing electrons of his computer monitor. And there she was. Her IM avatar was a bright green car, and that was the image he associated with her. Every time he saw one on the street, she popped into his mind.
"This is bad," he thought. Very bad. It's becoming close to obsession, although "obsession" isn't quite the right word. Infatuation? Attraction? He'd never met her, and it was unlikely that he would in the near future. Still, he thought about her day and night (wasn't that a song? "Day and night... night and day..." Who was that? Cole Porter?). He looked for reasons to go online; to see if she was there.
He could only imagine her voice, for they had never spoken. He had a vague idea of what she looked like, from the many pictures she'd posted. Looks weren't important to him...not really. He'd dated all types of women, but she really was exceptionally beautiful in his eyes. He never told her this, of course. It seemed, well...kind of creepy. Besides, it didn't matter. They were having great conversations about life. Love. Art. Music. No subject was off limits, no secrets, no bullshit, no hidden agendas...
Well. That wasn't exactly true, was it now?
So what should he call this? A crush? Yeah. That was probably the best word for it. He had a crush on this amazing, intelligent woman that he'd never met. This was bad. Very bad. For a lot of very good reasons.
All this went through his head in the instant that it took for him to recognize that she was online again. His hands went to the keyboard. "Hey Sunshine!" he typed.
Part Two: Her.
"Hey Sunshine!"
The words appeared on her screen, and her heart skipped a beat. Just like it always did when he greeted her like that.
His avatar--a closeup photo of a rock on the sidewalk--always made her smile. Every time she kicked a stone, she thought of him. Not that she'd ever kick him, mind you. No, she had other things in mind for him that didn't involve kicking...
"No!" she suddenly yelled aloud. Her roommate shot her a glance. Shit. This was bad. Now she was talking to the voices in her head.
What was it about him that made her act like this? She'd never met him. She probably never would. And yet, they would IM each other for hours on end. At first, it was just cute. Then it became fun. Now, it was...well, it was something else.
He didn't appeal to her. For a lot of very, very, VERY good reasons, he wasn't her type. In fact, he was someone else's type, and for that matter, someone else's altogether. So they had an amazing friendship. A weird friendship, but a true one nonetheless.
Still...
Fuck. This can't become a crush. "You're smarter than this," she said aloud, as her fingers reached for the keyboard. Her roommate looked up from her book. "What did you say?" she asked.
"Nothing."
She pecked out the words on the screen: "Hey Stoney!"
SEND.
Dale For A Day by Anon 2.
And why won't I budge him? I think I've told myself that I'm scared. I think, and that's the cause of this paralysis/ I'm scared of the "I',- the "eye". the "I". -Twist of pronounciation and your meaning is too clear. It cuts. The "you" was hard enough to deal with,- they say it would have been easier if I'd "felt" rather than "dealt" but hey, they rhyme so they can't be that different. But put them in a poem, twist 'em round a bit, hell, they'll eventually say anything you almost think you want them to.
No, it's the "I", I ( I Claudius, I Heathcliff), I (the forgiven) take thee (the trapped) to be my lawfully wedded etcetera.
The truly stunning sunburst here is that you are (and always have been) unaware of my howl and roar, my tooth and fang.
This wail is the threnody of the woman who finds herself too late.
Comments
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