Reaching out... a lifeline

Clinging to the phone desperately wishing for it to ring on the other hand, she stood still like a statue even so far as to hold her breath. An eternity passed by before smoothly the line went from jarring silence to the soft ringtones she expected. Releasing her breath slowly she listened to the ringing and hoped for the connection. 1 Ring "maybe they're not there", 2 Rings "Or don't want to be bothered", 3 Rings "do they know it's me and not want to pick up?", 4 Rings and the audbile click which meant the call was forwarding to the voice mail.

She moved for the first time since she had picked up the phone, stretching her legs and smiling ever so slightly to the sound of the popping of her joints.

"Hi, i'm not here right now"... the voice mail intoned.

"I know that, but where ARE you" she spoke to no one in particular.

Waiting for the beep, she thought over what she would say. "I was just thinking of you tonight". Scratching that with all the noise of nails on a chalkboard, she winced and moved to the next thought. "I'm lonely... and I." Ugh, she groaned to herself. No, that just won't do.

The shrill beep focused her attention back on the line and she breathed in deeply waiting for the words to come out. Releasing her breath again she realized she had nothing to say, and quickly hung the phone up. Resting her hand on the handle of the phone securely back in it's cradle, she smiled again with the thought that she had just crank called her friend. Ah well, she thought, maybe he'll enjoy the breathing.

She padded barefoot to her kitchen where the open bottle of wine awaited her and the candlelight from the myriad of candles she had lit danced in her shadow. Not bothering with the formalities that a wine glass would offer, she grabbed the bottle by the neck and took a long pull tasting the sweet wine as it ran eagerly down her throat.

What would she do tonight? She mulled over the possibilities and none of them appealed to her. Sighing she turned away from the counter armed with her bottle of wine and walked back into the living room where she sat on the couch and watched the time.

"What to do, what to do". She amused herself with thinking thoughts of creativity, creating anything. She stared at the candlelight as the flames continued their dance of light around her. She shivered slightly as the next wave of addiction overcame her enveloping her in the desire no NEED for a cigarette.

"I wont!" she said with more force than she intended, blowing a candle out that had been nearby.

She went through all the routines as she sat on the plush couch, sinking further as she repeated her mantra.

"My willpower is greater than that of my bad habits". Repeating the old phrase had a numbing effect on her greater than her new best friend Zinfandel could do and soon before she knew it, the bottle slipped from her grasp and her eyes closed in a sleep she hadn't known she'd needed.

~*~

Sitting up abruptly she was aware of a breeze coursing through the sky, causing her hair to run across her eyes. She blinked in the sunlight wiping her tired hand, struggling to release the vestiges of sleep. She smelled jasmine close by but could see no flowers. And when she had gone to bed last night ("Did I go to bed?" she thought... ), she had been wearing her clothing. now, however she wore a dress of sparkling white.

Standing slowly, unsurely she looked to her surroundings. Green fields as far as the eye could see heralded a day of brightest light. The air that had been moved by balmy breezes, was hushed in a moments pause as if to acknowledge the stranger in its midst. Turning slowly around she heard before she saw the brook bubbling over rocks, destination unknown. The brook continued as far as her eyes could see.

Upon completing her turn, having come full circle, her eyes now adjusted to the day, she noticed the house in the distance. Even from afar it had the air of a regal property. It looked like a castle, and then looked like a modern home.

"That's odd" she wondered aloud. "Just how much wine did I have?" she questioned to herself.

She felt no fear in this place, she simply felt "home". The wind ushered in the fragrance of jasmine again, and this time she knew the wind at her back was guiding her towards the home. With all the magic of a dreamstate she took a few steps and was nearly transported to the front steps of the porch of this home in the middle of nowhere. What she had seen as a castle and then a modern home was really a Victorian mansion, complete with a wrap around porch, flower beds in each window and a rocking couch built for two. She still remained unfrightened by this new place figuring she was merely dreaming and resigning herself to the dream. She put her hand on the banister noticed as she looked up taking the first step, the sign over the porch. She had not noticed it before and she wondered again if things weren't appareing as if being built right as she arrived, just for her.

The sign simply said: "The House of Love".

Stepping up the four steps onto the porch she noticed a notepad and a paper. Stationary she corrected herself, and a very antique looking pen. Laying on the seat of the two seater swing they almost called to her aloud even in their silence. The breeze carried faint whispers to her, gently caressing her ear with a soft voice spekaing phrases such as: "My love. I sit in the parlor today love. Today the gardens were in full bloom".

She slowly walked to the couch and reached forward without a single thought except to pick up the pen. The whispers became louder and she knew that this was what she was to be doing, right now. Her hands closed around the pen, a beautiful burgundy, heavy pen with initials carved in it. She could almost make them out. S. K. Leaning forward to get a better look, the whispers suddenly stopped.

~*~

With a thud and a groan she fell off the couch. The wine spilled onto the light carpet beneath her, deepening the stain in the material. She sat up gingerly rubbing her head, chiding herself lightly for having too much to drink. Leveraging herself up using the coffeetable to do so, she sat upright on the couch again. It was then that she noticed the pen and the single piece of stationary, that had not been there before. Scrawled on the paper were four words: "The House of Love".

©SKW

~*~

I have NO idea where this is going or if it's just some smattering of useless thought tonight. But as I composed it I was reminded of the love letters I've written and in all of them the theme is the same; a house built by the love of it's inhabitants, love for each other, that constantly changes. Some homes are steeped with tradition even acquiring the names of the family but in this home, the only family is "love". Maybe it's a sign to write some more letters, maybe it's just a random snippet, or maybe it's a beginning of something new borrowing from the old. Either way, I thought you might enjoy it.

Have a wonderful day everyone :)