©Mitch Bensel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdGGOAW0xLk
Listen to the above link to HEAR the story being narrated by Jacqueline Belle
A Love Story
by
Mitch Bensel
Every day I listen to the sounds of morning. They always lead into the evening darkness of silence with those whispers from the night life. She walked into my life on a day of sun with a breeze that wouldn’t slow its touch across me. She was selling fresh fruit grown from her yard. Her eyes struck me first with a brilliance of that look of beyond time. Many people in my day I had noticed the lack of in their eyes. No light, only dull with a slam of boring crossing like a tic-tac-toe board into their minds.
But on this day of sun and breeze she came into my life. Her small frame held her with an elegance and softness. Her hair fell across her shoulders with a wild abandon, although still held neatly away from her face with one pink ribbon. The sun on this day caught the blonde strands causing them to find a life that matched the brilliance in her eyes. How could I stand next to this person from another time in life? A time of romance and beauty that was always held in respect.
“Would you like a few of my apples sir?” Her voice circled me, flew into me knocking the air out of my lungs. She lifted an apple bright with red and shine for me to see. I do not move very well anymore, my arms are slow with their reach. I tried to raise my left arm too quickly take the red apple from her hands. Wanting her to know that yes indeed I wanted to buy her apples and possibly have a moment of her time for conversation, so that I could selfishly enjoy her company and her beauty of soul.
She smiled and walked closer to me so that I could hold the fruit of her hard work. Suddenly she frowned and seemed worried. I didn’t want this, “thank you I will buy a dozen but why do you frown?” I asked already knowing the answer. She looked at my deformity my injury from a war of stupidity. Wars a creation of proof that mankind is but a child playing with the gifts given by the universe. Messing up the face of life with heated pain and death.
Unable to stand with a steady strength and with my arms bent and crooked she looked at me with a wish it seemed, that I didn’t have any pain. “What happened to you kind sir?” Her question caught me off guard, for I didn’t expect her to still be standing near me let alone to be asking me about myself.
She slowed for a moment then smiled. She lifted the apples into a basket. The park was full of young and old enjoying the day of perfect. She looked at the long path I was on and asked even another question. “May I help you take these to your home?” Her dress of cotton with small blue flowers flowed in the breeze. I caught a whiff of her scent. She smelled of lemons, yes, I think lemons is what I inhaled. I couldn’t answer immediately as I fumbled for my money my awkwardness grew and this was not comfortable for me. Finally getting a grip on the dollars I handed them to her. I shook a little, it’s what I do at times. But it passed and she lightly took the money from my hand and touched me.
Now I have to say this for in her touch a spasm of intense joy found flight through and into my core. I was blessed to have touched an angel. “I live not far, could you please help me? That would be wonderful.” We walked slowly and talked of many things the beauty of life. She fascinated me.
She grew fruit to help pay her bills and keep her small bit of land she owned. She was the same age as I but she seemed like that of youth. I knew I would never have anyone in my life to share the moments that I enjoyed. For I am one of another time and place. At least that is what I have always felt. There are very few people that I enjoy. They are closed to the wonderful nature of life. And I am crippled in the form of flesh not much looked on as anything of good just enough good looks but not enough normal.
She looked upon my small cottage near the edge of a pond slowed then smiled, “what a magical place this is! You live here?” She asked I heard her but saw every subtle movement across her way of flow. For a moment I couldn’t move. “Yes,” one word came from my mouth and that was it. I had found it almost impossible to speak for some reason around this woman. “Yes it is my home you can put the apples on the porch.” I didn’t want her to have to linger with a crooked broken man any longer than she had to bear.
She leaned to rest the apples onto my porch. I had to sit soon or I would fall. One of my spasms of shaking was going to hit and I didn’t want her to see. I thanked her and tried to make her leave me but she wouldn’t move. It started and she watched. Her frown grew as she then reached once more to help me to the chair on my porch. Intensity of every wonderful feeling I have ever had rushed through me once more with just her small touch onto my arm. The spasms stopped as quickly as they started.
She talked with me on the porch for several hours. The time of night was finding us and I bid her to leave before the darkness would cover her walk back to the park and to her car. We talked of silly things of curious things we had seen and laughed so hard we cried. Never had I enjoyed a moment as much as I had enjoyed this moment. It came in the shape of a woman with a cotton dress that had blue flowers and the smell of lemons.
I always remember and hold on to times of magic and ease into my place of soul. I have nothing to offer anyone that would hope to be my wife. I cannot function in the way of normal that couples enjoy. She would never be able to be happy with me. I would surely bore her. My thoughts ran through my mind like this parallel with our conversation. I sure did jump quickly into having a life with a woman I had just met. But I am a dreamer and always will be.
She left but with a turn as she waved she smiled and said. “I will be back tomorrow we have much to talk of.” I waved as I sat on my porch. My chair of wicker of old held me comfortably. I reached to eat one of the apples. Delicious.
In time she grew to be very fond of me. I was already very fond of her.
She came into my life on a day of sun and breeze but she became my sun and breeze. We walked through the days and held the nights with magic, vision and a touch. Nothing more was needed. For in our love we had flight within and to our core with just a simple hold or touch of hand against hand.
