The Society Of Bens
1
Her eyes looked different.
Strange.
Alien.
He kissed her forehead again. There was a kind of joyful bliss in these lazy days lying on the old mattress comforter they had placed on the floor. Like nothing mattered. Love, he guessed, made you forget the word outside the gaze of your love one.
He was happy, but people weren’t interested in happiness, or at least not for long. The congratulations and well wishing that began their journey now took an almost scornful tone. ‘What are the two love birds up to now?’ ‘Oh God.’ And “Vomit’ The amount some friend were vomiting across social media it was a surprise that they weren’t dehydrating themselves to death.
“Mom wants us to go to marriage counseling?” She momentarily averted he look.
“Why?” this was there summer of love, although summer had bled into autumn, winter and now spring.
“It’s what you do I suppose,” she smiled, “The first year is supposed to be hard.”
“But its not hard for us,” he scrutinized her upside down eyes, looking for a clue to this new topic of conversation, “Right sweet?”
He pondered as he studied the details of her eyes; why, if the eyes were the windows of the soul, did we ever need to ask confirmation from anybody? A near glance should tell you most, a long loving look and you should be able to write volumes. Did we need to hear it? Were the ears the nervous two year olds of the soul, ‘do you love me? Yes? Okay then’. It was a playful thought, amusing him with its irrationality.
“No love, its not hard.” She pulled him into an upside down kiss, his ears relaxing having heard their affirmation he relaxed again, “but we should go.”
“Why?” he sat up, breaking the quiet comfiness of the afternoon.
“Because Mom wants us to go.” her answer stupefied him, He pushed himself onto his feet, already the bliss of the afternoon was fading.
“I should do some work.” He crossed the small space of their studio apartment, to his laptop, lifting its lid and logging on.
“Don’t be like that.” She sat frustratingly cross-legged on the mat.
He smiled back at her but the moment was passed, summer was drawing to a close even as it dawned across the hemisphere.
Work. He inwardly smiled, irrationality had been fun, it felt warm and good, but now was the time of work.
1
Her eyes looked different.
Strange.
Alien.
He kissed her forehead again. There was a kind of joyful bliss in these lazy days lying on the old mattress comforter they had placed on the floor. Like nothing mattered. Love, he guessed, made you forget the word outside the gaze of your love one.
He was happy, but people weren’t interested in happiness, or at least not for long. The congratulations and well wishing that began their journey now took an almost scornful tone. ‘What are the two love birds up to now?’ ‘Oh God.’ And “Vomit’ The amount some friend were vomiting across social media it was a surprise that they weren’t dehydrating themselves to death.
“Mom wants us to go to marriage counseling?” She momentarily averted he look.
“Why?” this was there summer of love, although summer had bled into autumn, winter and now spring.
“It’s what you do I suppose,” she smiled, “The first year is supposed to be hard.”
“But its not hard for us,” he scrutinized her upside down eyes, looking for a clue to this new topic of conversation, “Right sweet?”
He pondered as he studied the details of her eyes; why, if the eyes were the windows of the soul, did we ever need to ask confirmation from anybody? A near glance should tell you most, a long loving look and you should be able to write volumes. Did we need to hear it? Were the ears the nervous two year olds of the soul, ‘do you love me? Yes? Okay then’. It was a playful thought, amusing him with its irrationality.
“No love, its not hard.” She pulled him into an upside down kiss, his ears relaxing having heard their affirmation he relaxed again, “but we should go.”
“Why?” he sat up, breaking the quiet comfiness of the afternoon.
“Because Mom wants us to go.” her answer stupefied him, He pushed himself onto his feet, already the bliss of the afternoon was fading.
“I should do some work.” He crossed the small space of their studio apartment, to his laptop, lifting its lid and logging on.
“Don’t be like that.” She sat frustratingly cross-legged on the mat.
He smiled back at her but the moment was passed, summer was drawing to a close even as it dawned across the hemisphere.
Work. He inwardly smiled, irrationality had been fun, it felt warm and good, but now was the time of work.