Flumes Volume 1 Issue 1 - Page 36

~~~

Summers passed by in the blink of an eye. And before I realized it, 5 years had gone. Those years spent of him telling me everything there was to know about him. I knew how he was raised, of his adolescence, his first kiss, and his last goodbye with his grandmother. With each story, and each month that passed I fell more and more in love with who he was. He was my best

friend and my most loyal companion.

But then, suddenly, he left. Usually when he left it was only for a month or so at the most. But this time he was gone nearly a whole year.  I remember waiting, aching for his return. I replayed as many of his stories over in my head as I could. I missed him so dearly. I wanted to learn more about what a ‘TV’ was, or why he was afraid of small spaces. I wanted to hear his stories again. But I knew he would return. He promised me he would. I wasn’t worried.

He did return, but he wasn’t alone. A woman appeared with him and they looked over the side of me with such a pure love.  The woman had brown hair that was usually held up in a braid on her head. She was much shorter and petite compared to Simon’s manly figure. She fit perfectly in between his arms. She was beautiful and I envied her.

Not only did she get to hear his stories, she got to respond with her own. If only I could do that. I would tell him about my many keepers who all were bizarre and beautiful in their own way. I would tell him about the man who would shoot all the birds that flew by. And I would tell him about the girl keeper I had once, who was so afraid to stay alone that she quit within the first week I would tell him about how I had keepers who would sing and dance like fools, but also how I loved them as well. I would tell him how he was my best friend, and how I loved his stories. But I couldn’t do that, and she could. He called her Annie.

Annie.

~~~

She had become his wife. I wondered how I had never heard of her before this.

Instead of talking to me, Simon talked to her. I still got to hear his stories, most of them I had heard before, but I didn’t mind. As long as he was talking I was happy. Annie began to tell him stories about her life as well. And I learned about her. Her life wasn’t as happy and uplifting as Simon’s had been. Her life had been hard, and full of despair and heartache. She would tell him about a father whom passed away before she was old enough to walk; and a mother

27