New Job

Yep, that's right.  I got a new job!  I'm still keeping the old one, though (I love it too much).  So fall semester will consist of class, L&T, and . . . The Riv!  I now work at my apartment complex as an RA.  Basically, I baby-sit the lounge and office area after office hours and take care of any emergencies that arise whilst the office staff are elsewhere.  So yesterday, whilst I was thus occupied, I started writing.  And I wrote a short story.  Which I used to do all the time, but haven't done for a while, so I gave it a whirl.  I think this is so short that it can't even be considered a short story.  It's a . . . blurb.  Yeah, a blurb.  Anyways, here goes:

“I will follow you into the dark.”

            Jeffrey’s heart pounded against his chest.  Could she hear it?  Did she care?  What was he reading in her eyes at that very instance, the instance where one suddenly finds themselves betwixt body and soul and torn to follow one but yearning to follow the other? 

It’s so different than I’ve ever imagined it would be.  The many dreams I’ve envisioned, the thousands of moments I’ve invented, the countless occasions I’ve conceived have been so different from this moment, here and now.  But what do circumstances and surroundings matter?  The thing that matters most is him.  Him . . . Jeffrey Adam Taylor, Junior; this . . . boy . . . is the one thing that matters.  But it’s so dark and I’m so confused right now.  How could I ever make such a decision when I’m in this kind of condition?  Nothing feels right . . . but nothing feels wrong.

He reached for her hand; she squeezed it, hard.  Did she know what was happening, or what was about to happen?  How two people were about to change the world?  Was she nervous, too?

His hand . . . it feels so right holding mine . . . or does it?  I don’t want to make a mistake.  People say can always fix mistakes, but not this one.  This is one mistake that can’t happen.  I don’t want it to.  For me.  For him.  For the future.  My future . . . what is it supposed to be?  What will it really be like?  Is it what he and I want . . . or is it something different?

How could she decline?  She wouldn’t; she couldn’t.  Her body wanted it, he could tell. 

I just want to make the right choice.  And I just don’t know if it’s him or not.  But if it’s not him, then who is it?  How do I know?

This was it.  He knelt. 

Oh no, here he goes.  And I still don’t know!  What do I do? 

“Julianna Leigh Albright, --”

Julianna Leigh . . . my grandmother.  What would she say?  When faced with this kind of situation, what would she do? 

“—will you, --”

His voice . . . it’s so soothing.  His hands . . . they’re so strong.  His eyes . . . looking into mine . . . they’re nervous . . . but resolved.  This feels . . .

“—marry me?”

 . . . He will follow me into the dark,  

He had said it, just like he had practiced saying it, over and over, until he couldn’t stand the waiting any longer.  Her lips parted.  “But will you bring me back from there?”