Blueprint For Love: Date Me Please...

The young black beauty could not be bothered by the rampant comments about her color as she walked past the high school building. No, she couldn't. Her ears were near deaf at each step and her mind was lost in her own issues. Anthony, her friend, had asked her out on a first date and was waiting for an answer. She had near none, little feelings towards him but they were the kind she'd feel for her brother or distant cousin. She could at this point ascertain that it was not the kind relationships were built on. Anastasia walked briskly as the dark clouds formed together in the distant sky. Her hair could be ruined by any unpredictable rain and that was something she wanted to avoid. Although she felt responsible for Anthony's current state of mind, she was not going to give in out of pity. The thought of refusing him had crossed and circled back in her mind several times that afternoon but she was incessantly reminded that saying no would make Anthony try harder. And she didn't need more attention and pressure. It is human nature to want what one can't have. When the first rain drops reached her glass windows, Anastasia had dished out her leftovers from the previous night, and changed into something warm. She warmed it in the microwave and enjoyed her early lunch as the rains had their way. 

The rains had ruined my day, and my clothes. I was soaked and somehow did not feel the need to run home. I loved the rain. It was one of my favorite things about nature. Rains were blessings to me, although I was starting to think that I had pampered them too much. Nothing gave me solace like the rain. Summer rains were the best, unpredictable but had impeccable timing. I walked back to the house in such style and elegance feeling proud that I had not succumbed to the need to run. I was already soaked in rain and I had nothing else to prove. Fortunately, my notes were tucked in the warm spaces of my bag. I set them on my table and dashed to the bathroom for a quick shower. My day had come to an abrupt end. Jennifer had stopped calling. She had given up, and I applauded  her effort to recoil into my life, but my fences had a no -entry policy.

The elevator doors parted slowly. He stepped out on the tiled floor and pressed the doorbell. Anastasia heard the doorbell rang but she refused to answer. "Hold on!" Deloris shouted from her room. He made a second attempt at the doorbell and a third and a fourth. "I said hold on!" she screamed from the hall. When she finally opened the door for the young man who was fashionably handsome and unbelievably calm, her anger dissolved into sheer surprise. He smiled at her. "Did you come to see me?" Deloris asked as a smile creased her face. "No, I came to see Anastasia." He answered. "Please, is she in?" Deloris welcomed him in. "That's her room." She said

Blueprint For Love: Carre Noir

The crescent moon hung low in the west under scattered low racing clouds, the stars twinkled wildly in the gusty wind, and the night sailed on with more to be enjoyed. I had walked about a mile that night, my feet wiggled at each step, but I was determined to reach home before the streets attained unsafe status. It was not rocket science. I knew these Arab streets had nothing good to offer during the late hours of the night. My phone rang again; fourth time that night. This time the caller ID read, 'Unknown'. I was almost sure that it was a mistake traveling all those miles to see her. I answered. It was Jennifer. "Alfred, thank God!" She sounded relieved upon hearing my voice. “Where on earth are you?” I ended the call and savored the frustration in her voice. At this point, my feigned hatred for Jennifer was almost climatic. When I finally reached my apartment and pulled out my phone, I savored Jennifer's ten missed calls and finally turned the phone off. I loved having that much power. It was diabolical and inhumane but I was never the forgiving type and sentiments like compassion had no place in my heart. It failed at mixing well with my emotions.

Le Cafe Noir stood in a left corner, a couple of meters away from the first roundabout about a quarter  of a mile from the train station. It was home to some of the caffeine addicts in the neighborhood and housed the usual late night soirees. I swung the heavy doors open and took a seat. It was near half full with average smokers who appeared like they were discussing pertinent issues. It was fairly quiet and the apparent European ambiance was rewarding as the entire street was right before my eyes. As usual, I placed an order for a hot cafe au lait. In the minutes before the coffee arrived, my mind had somewhat placed an image to the many words I had received from my editor. She sounded displeased and indicated clearly that my words were somewhat archaic. By the time the coffee arrived, I had settled on not looking up each of the words she had sent. The touch of the first sip on my tongue felt exhilarating. My craving had finally met instant satisfaction and I breathed slowly as the vapor dissolved into the warm air. The streets were slowly easing into a chaotic zone as the time slipped by. I began to write the opening scene for the play, but my thoughts were discombobulated and the noise from the cars and music shops which surrounded the cafe unnerved me. I needed serenity and there was only one place I could find it at this time of the day. I closed my notepad, left the money on the table with a tip and marched outside. The dry September air felt liberating and I was relieved that for the first time in many months, I had a drama free day. "...Who said lying did not have benefits." I thought to myself and walked on.