The Nonsense of Waiting Lovers (Part 4) (standard:romance, 443 words) [4/5] show all parts
Author: Sare	Added: Oct 11 2001	Views/Reads: 2341/0	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Part 4 of the continuing story... actually follows from Part 3 but also stands on its own. For my warrior, with love.

We leave the rain behind, soaring through the clouds. 

The morning sunlight gleams on lakes and roads.  Trees clothed in reds
and golds, here and there reaching out their naked branches, stretch 
for miles like a blanket in stunning relief.  Hills rise proud and 
valleys lie dormant, and throughout stand the trees, as symbols of 
eternity. 

Staring out the window, my mind fills with snatches of poetry, bits of
song.  If I concentrate I can smell the leaves, their bittersweet 
perfume, cloying and heavy. 

My hands still clutch the armrests.  Taking deep, calming breaths, I
close my eyes, reminding myself to relax.  Just breathe.  I fall asleep 
to a dream of you, imagining us together as we soon will be.  Your arms 
around me.  I am startled awake by the flight attendant's voice.  I 
agree to a cup of tea.  The old woman next to me accepts a cup of tea, 
as well.  She smiles at me over the rim of her cup. 

"We're almost there," she says. 

I nod.  Looking out the window, the houses are closer together now. 
Fewer trees, more farmland.  The Holland Marsh.  Even from here I see 
the blackness of the rich soil.  It is peppered here and there with 
fallen leaves. 

Looking ahead, I see the shadows of the city's buildings.  "I'm so
nervous!" 

"Is he meeting you at the airport?" 

"Yes."  I sip my tea.  It's too hot but I barely notice. 

"Well, you haven't much longer to be nervous, then.  I'm sure that once
you are together you shan't be nervous any more." 

"I hope not." 

She pats my hand again.  "Don't worry, dear." 

I look out the window again.  The city looms ahead.  We listen to the
captain advising us of our descent.  The little plane bounces on the 
air.  We circle the airport, come down slowly.  Soon we feel the wheels 
touch down.  The plane taxis to a stop outside the terminal.  We step 
down onto the tarmac, and cross the cold ashphalt towards the stairs.  
I walk very slowly, staying close to the old woman.  We go slowly and 
carefully up the stairs and down the hallway.  Finally up ahead is the 
gate, beyond which stand you, the future, and my greatest fear. 

I keep my eyes down as we walk, but as I step at last through the gate I
raise my head, and as I knew it would, my gaze falls immediately on 
you.  Our eyes lock.  I feel the old woman touch my arm in goodbye but 
cannot tear my gaze from yours.  I keep walking until I stand directly 
in front of you, and then I stop. 

Arrival.


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