(Originally Intended this to be just for photography, however I’ve decided I’ll use this as an outlet for sharing my writing as well. I figured what’s the point of writing if I don’t share it with anyone. I wrote this short story last fall.)

By Josh Miller

He sits there, in his car, waiting. It’s cold outside and damp, it was raining earlier, but it let up a while ago.  He has his music on.  He is thumbing through the collection on his phone.  He listens to half a song, then smiles, his heart lifts, then he shakes his head slightly.  He changes the song, eases back into his seat and looks around.  It’s nearly eight thirty but there are still cars in the parking lot. The pharmacy has been closed for a while and all the lights are off on the other, smaller, businesses.  Leaves litter the area, making the black asphalt of the parking lot a palette of fall colors. All the cars are much newer than his, their color isn’t worn and they shine in the light of the parking lot lights. None of them were black, only his.  He shifted slightly, the tone of the music was lost for a moment; he was out of place.  Maybe he should have picked her up somewhere else? No, it had to be here; it was here or behind the funeral home, those were his two choices.

Perhaps he could have said no, but that never crossed his mind.

The music paused for a moment as he was notified of a text. “Hey, when you get here text me.  I’ll be right down”.

He replied “Alrighty, I’m here”

He changed the song again. He smiled as it played. He had met her less than two weeks ago. They had briefly talked online a few times, exchanged pictures, then met nine days ago. She was glorious and that was the problem.

He had done this before. Meet a girl, go back to her place, have a few good hours and leave. Usually he would never see them again, nor think of them very often. For him, this worked. This woman was different.

She was unlike the others, she radiated with a beautiful glow, the depth of her beauty, shining in her twinkling eyes.  She wasn’t fat, she didn’t have flabby skin, a bad complexion, she was athletic, long haired, with a wonderful smile and a charisma that was unparalleled. Nine days ago he stood here in this very parking lot, when he saw her he was momentarily frozen in place, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  There had to be a catch, but there wasn’t. That fist night was perfect, for the first time he didn’t just get up and leave. He held her as she lay up against him and they talked. She was the first women in many years who engaged him in this way. She had fallen asleep and he lay next to her, unable to sleep, and in no way tired.  He was content to look at her, peacefully sleeping next to him.  Her beautiful lines were a work of art. He smiled; he smiled for the next nine days.

And here he was, flipping through music, the music he had heard time and time again, the music that had always made him smile and dream of a future filled with joy. He still smiled, listening to the music, but now it was in remembrance of the joy that he had had, the joy that, as he flipped through the music, he could see out of the corn of his eye, walking up to the car.

Even though what he felt was real and genuine there was also a sadness that was ever present.  This woman he was with was not his.  From the start he had known there wasn’t any commitment. She had other lovers, many from what she told him. This had been weighing heavily on his heart. Each thought of his own happiness was juxtaposed with a lesser feeling of sadness and apprehension. When he was younger, when he fell for a woman, he fell hard, hard and fast.  It always took him a long time to stand back up. Now he was older and supposedly wiser, but these same type of feelings came welling up, as strong as ever, for the first time in nearly a decade. They had taken him by surprise, but whether through age, or wisdom he was able to temper his feelings and control his impulses.  He managed to keep a level head, and plan this second evening without a problem, but how was he going to convince her that he was worth monogamy, that he was worth attempting a serious relationship with.  He didn’t know.

As she sat down in his car, he looked over at her.  She smiled, all thoughts of the music, his sadness, and all of his worries, all of them, were shoved aside; there she sat, smiling.