Stream of Words

Stream of Words

It all begins with Hello.
How are you? Fine. Yourself?
What draws us to start a conversation in
a stream of words on a screen?

Another chance meeting
and the conversation picks up
Touches lightly on a range of subjects in
a stream of words on a screen.

Time moves along, and
the conversations continue
to delve deeper into one another in
a stream of words on a screen.

She asks questions about his theories
he continually challenges her way of thinking
she worries: does he think her thoughts too simple in
a stream of words on a screen?

Delving deeper into hopes, dreams, plans
she shares, he suggests and advises,
respect and gratitude begin to arise in
a stream of words on a screen.

Confidence and trust grow
like a desert flower blossoming
Can her dreams happen if she uses his advice in
a stream of words on a screen?

Weeks turn into months into years
her biggest dream becomes real;
hard work and good advice pays off from
a stream of words on a screen.

He's far away, and she's alone.
Casual conversations now have more depth
How can her heart be so wrapped up in
a stream of words on a screen?

Her body lonely for more, a shy attempt
at a local date begins well; but her mind wanders
and compares; wishes she was having a conversation in
a stream of words on a screen.

Other conversations are constantly compared
to her conversations with him; and fall short.
What is it that draws her heart inexplicably to
a stream of words on a screen?

Nary a day goes by without a conversation,
a memo, a note; and of course, virtual hugs!
Hello. How are you? Fine. Yourself? in
a stream of words on a screen.

There's no way to predict the
outcome of this virtual relationship
could anything ever replace this
stream of words on a screen?

I turn on my computer; log on.
Busy with my usual web pages, I wait.
Anticipating that moment when we continue
a stream of words on a screen.

The moment he logs on, my computer sings,
my heart soars, joyous to begin again....
there he is now!!! so I'm ending this
stream of words on a screen.

©L.Danielson

Short Story: Maybe Someday

"Come on, Angela, it's bedtime", Daddy called to his little girl. She ran over to him, took his hand and they started down the hallway to her room, which was decorated in pink, the furniture lovingly picked out and repainted by her Daddy. "Will you read me a story, Daddy?" Daddy chuckled, for this was the question she asked of him every night. He began to read from "Twas the Day Before Zoo Day". Angela listened with rapt attention, hanging on his every word as he read about zoo keepers and animals getting ready for people to come see them. Things don't go right, the zebras aren't happy with their stripes, the giraffes are drooling, mayhem seems to be the order of the day! It all works out happily in the end as Daddy finishes reading, closes the book and tells Angela it's time to go to sleep. "Daddy?" she asks in a sleepy voice, "Will you take me to the zoo?" He answers back as he kisses her forehead, "Maybe someday. Goodnight."

The fight starts when she comes down the hall on the morning of her tenth birthday, and kisses her daddy's cheek. He gives her the once-over look that says he's not pleased with her short skirt, and sends her back to her room to change into something more appropriate for school. "March, young lady." She stomps back to her room, and changes into jeans and a tee shirt, flouncing back down the hallway, and sits at the table for breakfast. "That's much better, Angela. Thank you." She smiles back at him, and asks where he's taking her for her birthday. "How does Applebee's sound?" With only a small pout, she nods her head. "But can't we go to the mall instead?" Daddy lowers his newspaper and says "Maybe someday. Have a good day in school."

For a girl, 14 is a hard age, not old enough, but not much a girl any longer. She slinks home from school and drops her books on the couch, crossing her arms and stares at nothing across the room. When Daddy comes home, he finds her there, still in the same spot, still staring. "What's the matter today, Angela?" With her lower lip stuck out, she's reluctant to talk about, but her dad cajoles it out of her, like he usually does. "David made fun of me, and pulled my hair. I hate him!" Daddy's eyebrows shoot skyward, "I thought you liked him a lot." Hmph. "Well, not any more, not after today." Her dad knows these things pass, and the world will be right again in another week. Angela is mired in her emotions for the moment, though, and then blurts out "Will I ever get married, Daddy?" He smiled gently at her, "Maybe someday, Angel."

In line at the motor vehicle department, Angela nervously twists the ring on her hand, her feet tapping an invisible rhythm as they wait side by side for her turn. Number 102 is called, and they walk up to start the paperwork, and Angela goes over to take her written test, so excited to be getting her driver's permit. Her dad watches her chew nervously on the end of her pencil as she reads the questions, her face scrunching up in thought as she ponders each answer before marking the paper. She breathes a sigh of relief and takes it over to be corrected, rocking back and forth on her feet as she waits to hear the answer she's been waiting for: "You passed... Here's your permit." With a huge smile on her face, she hugs her dad and proudly shows him her permit. When the reach the car, she climbs in the driver's side and holds her hand out for the key, starting the car with a huge smile on her face. "Daddy, will you buy me a car now that I have my permit?" With an indulgent smile, he answers "Maybe someday."

Years later, a divorced Angela finds herself tucking her own little girl after reading her a story. When her little girl asks if she'll take her somewhere, Angela answers "Maybe someday." And it reminds her how her own daddy said that often to her. She never did go to the zoo with him. And he never did buy her that car. When she realized that she was creating somedays that never come, she told herself that this time, it would be different. And she smiled down at her daughter, and said "How about this weekend?"

Neil Gaiman Quote

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”