Small Story

I decided to let you all read this. And thanks to everyone who has read my poem about the theatre so far…Tom Hiddleston is a great inspiration (Happy 33rd Birthday!). 

I was swept up in thought about Ryan (which is quite rare lately), and listening to sad rock. From these ashes, a story is born.

He was seated on the chair when I came into the room, staring out the window at the beach that was feet from the beach house we were vacationing in. He had been this way since that morning, when he discovered that one of his beloved teachers had died the night before. People were trying to call him, but he and I had been engaged in “other” activities, and he did not get the message until that morning. I knew he didn’t blame me, but he had not spoken to me since he told me what had happened.

I knew him well enough to let him have his space before trying to talk to him again, and so I slowly approached him.

“Hi, Logan. What is happening out there that is so captivating?”

“These giant waves that are rolling in and crashing against the shore. I imagine they sound very loud, and look much more violent in person.”

“We could walk the beach, and see for ourselves,” I said, sitting on the arm of the couch facing his chair. “Do you want to do that, Logan?”

“Not really. I just want to sit here, and think.”

“Okay. Can I join you, or is this a private reflection?”

“Please, stay. I was just thinking about Professor Henneman, and how unexpected his death is.”

“Death often is unexpected. And even when it is imminent, it is still hard to believe when it happens. And Professor Henneman was a beloved educator, so it is no surprise you’ve been floored by this news.”

Logan looks over at me, and he sighs.

“I’ve been ignoring you today because of this. Come sit with me.” I get up from the couch, and sit on Logan’s lap. “I am sorry that I have ignored you today. I assure you I don’t want to, but I have been knocked back by all of this.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. When my grandpa died, I was in a fog. Although, I wish I’d had someone like you around when he died, since I had no one to talk to about how I was feeling. At least you have me.”

“And, I am very grateful for that,” he said with a smile.

I smiled down at him, stroking his cheek. For the first time in four hours, he looked somewhat happy. I leaned down, and softly kissed him. When I pulled back, his eyes were still closed. They slowly reopened, and a faint smile crept across that once melancholy face. He pulled me back to him, and kissed me much deeper than he had. He parted my lips with his tongue, which caused me to squeak in response. He moaned softly into my mouth, his hand reaching into my hair, and his other hand on my back, keeping me balanced on his lap. He stood up from the chair, and we fell onto the couch. The next hour was pretty much a blur of kisses and sex.

I had fallen asleep on the couch, awaking to find that Logan had disappeared. I decided to take a walk on the beach, so I headed outside, where I found Logan. He was looking out at the ocean again, his dark sunglasses hiding his blue eyes. I leaned down behind his head, and kissed his cheek. He moaned in happiness, and turned his head to look at me.


“Hello back. Did you have a good nap?” I nodded, adjusting my sunglasses.

“This is going to seem random, but I just wanted to say I love you,” I said with hesitation.

“Mmm…I love you too,” he said with a smile.

I kissed him softly on the mouth, which he intensified, leaning up into the kiss and pulling my head down towards his further.

“I am going to walk the beach,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Would you like to join me?”

“I’d much rather we go back indoors, and do indoor activities,” he said with a wink.

“Well, I am walking the beach, Logan. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Amy, let’s go inside.”

“If you’re so desperate to see me in that house, you’ll have to catch me.” And with that, I sprinted towards the shoreline.

Logan laughed, and I could hear his fast footsteps following me. I turned to look behind me, and found he wasn’t more than two feet behind. I shrieked as he reached out for me, and used the suddenly even sand to help me get further away. Unfortunately, Logan was six-foot-two, with legs that went on forever. He was quickly back on top of me, knocking backward onto the soft, uneven sand. He pinned my wrists beneath his hands, and kissed me as the water flowed around us.


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