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He wanted to go over to her, kiss her, hold her hand, watch her sleep, wipe the strand of hair that may have fallen across her nose and tickled her. He wanted to be close to her. But, he had to fix breakfast and put a smile on her face when she awakened.Quietly, he closed the bedroom door and entered the kitchen. After starting the coffee, he walked over to the fireplace and stoked a small fire to help take a little of the chill out of the air.He walked over to an oversized recliner sitting in front of the large window overlooking the valley. The fire crackled as it began to consume a log was the only sound he heard. It was a peaceful time and he wanted to share it with her. He smiled and turned slightly when he heard her soft footsteps approach the chair.“Hi love,” He said as she walked to the side of the chair.She had the sheet wrapped around her and her hair was tussled and wild. He had to control his animalistic desire to rip the sheet away and allow her mane of hair to. The air was sticky and humid. By the time I reached Central Park I was sweating profusely. I broke into a run across the small meadow beside the Metropolitan, but was gasping hard when I reached the street behind the museum. As I sped across the roadway I lifted my legs higher to clear the rise of the curb and began to stumble. I let myself go into a roll into the grass beyond the road and flopped into my back. I lay there flat, panting crazily.Shit, I thought. I'm wiped out. Getting lazy again. Getting angry, flustered.It took several minutes for me to feel rested again. Along the nearby road the cyclers and joggers passed me. I gazed at the sky. It was clear beyond the limbs of the surrounding trees. Blue. I recalled the day, long ago, when I was a toddler, when I lay that way on the side of a small hill near the Big Buildings in the Lauderdale Courts, looking up at that sky and thinking that the world was an open, unlimited space, waiting for me, beckoning, promising. I remembered.
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