I've already posted this story, but I removed it...I haven't finished it yet but here is a chapter I'm rather fond of:
Chapter 1-LDF
14th February 2007
EVERY day on this trip we’d gone shopping. EVERY single STINKIN’ day! Just one day, I wanted to sit and draw...just one. That day was a particularly fine Spring day. It would be wasted inside the fancy shops of central Paris.
I’d seen the Eiffel Tower on more than one occasion, but had not yet had the pleasure of drawing it.
As I walked from my Hotel to the park I would draw it from, I began thinking about what day it was.
Was it Thursday?...No wait Monday!..No...
And so it continued, consuming my thoughts till my arrival at the park. I was vaguely aware of the faces I past, the smells, but for the vast majority my mind was focused on where the time had gone.
Seeing the Eiffel tower that day gave me some insight as to the pure beauty of this monumental structure. Comparative to its surroundings it was simply towering above everything. Such a stark contrast to the blooming flowers and giggling couples.
Speaking of giggling couples, there seemed to be large amount of them around that day, ‘It’d be a shame not to draw one of them’ I thought to myself.
‘Where to sit, where to sit...’ I pondered.
I could have sit right in the middle of the grass, but perhaps I would appear a bit strange, sitting all on my lonesome, in the middle of such a vast expanse of green. Certainly it had the most detailed perspective, the most predictable. Maybe something more original, less typical and more inconspicuous would be the go. Those blossoming cherry trees looked gorgeous that day, They provided shade, and a delicious fragrance. Heading over to the closest one, and laying out my average plaid picnic rug, I sat down, closed my eyes and breathed deeply, relishing in the scent and cool shade the tree provided. After a few moments of relaxation I sat up and evaluated the view of the Eiffel Tower I had.
It was really something, through a perfectly placed, gap, the blossoming branches perfectly framed the vast majority of the great monument.
“Perfect.” I whispered.
Unslinging my bag from across my shoulders and over my head, I pulled out my loyal sketchpad and my coloured artist pencils...ahh these pencils brought back memories. They were all the colours of the rainbow and everything in-between. They had seen me through my HSC as my solace and friend.The sketch pad however was one of seven I’d brought with me on my trip.
I needed a warm up before I even though of beginning to draw the raw, mechanical beauty of the Eiffel Tower.
I Observed my surroundings, surveying them for a subject. There were couples aplenty today and it appeared I was an oddity, a freak in this self contained world where the love literally seemed to radiate from the very trees. I guess that’s Paris in Spring for you. I yearned to see a kindred spirit, some other nomad like myself.
My eyes scanned the surface of the park. Unfortunately it appeared I was the only one. Suddenly out of nowhere, the raw sound of an acoustic guitar, one of my favourite sounds in the world. It came from somewhere nearby , almost as if it was coming straight from the tree. It was as if it were calling to me,assessing my mood and telling me that I was not alone.I closed my eyes, willing the sound not to go away when the humming of an angel began, I let it envelope me, take me over completely. My imagination ran wild, as I decided to lie back and welcomed it with open arms.
Suddenly the music stopped.I almost thought I had heard a chuckle..what a cruel angel it must have been. Then i too, laughed at my foolishness, i needed something to drink . I was thirsty.
Dilemma. Should I leave my stuff here, or take it with me? I didn’t want it to get stolen, but afterall, I was only crossing the path to an alfresco coffee shop, it was only a few metres away,and the shopfront was glass, I’d have no problem shaperoning my stuff.
After a few minutes of dililberation, I compromised. I would take my dearest possessions in my bag to the cafe (these compiled of my sketchpad, pencils, wallet and mobile) and leave the mat there with the fruit I’d brought with me. Really, who was gonna steal fruit?
As I stood in line,I kept anxiously looking looking out the window. Each time, I was reassured that it was safe. As if it were some big deal. When it came my time to order I glanced anxiously out the window once more. Still fine. I looked towards the cashier.
“Chocolat chaud s’il vous plait”Hot chocolate. My favourite.
She told me It’d be just a moment after I handed her the correct amount of change. I took this opportunity to sneak another glance. There was absolutely no need to be worried though ‘Perfectly safe.’ I told myself. Why did I always worry so much? Maybe that was one of my problems, I worried too much. That was me, Worry-wart Amelia, Amy, the Goody-two-shoes...What’s with that saying anyways goody two shoes, everyone has two shoes, why would.....
“Excusé-moi ,Mademoiselle “ said the cashier, interrupting my train of thought.
She held a cup out towards me, it smelled delicious.
“Merci”
I headed over to the area of the counter where the lids where, being the klutz I am, I was likely to spill it on myself.
The stupid lid wouldn’t go on! Darn those plastic lids!
I tried a different tactic, holding it to my lower abdomen whilst forcing the lid on...
GREAT! Just great! Now it’s all over my shirt! And to top it off, I’ve been trying to force a ‘small’ lid on a ‘large’ cup.
‘Stupid, stupid,stupid’ I mentally cursed myself over and over again on my way back to my mat and assessed the damage done to my shirt..nothing a little zipping up of my jacket wouldn’t fix...
I looked up as I came closer to my mat...
Oh.Heck.No.
There, on my mat was some weirdo guy with a guitar.
What.The.Heck? Are you Freaking Kidding me!?!
‘Okay, calm Aimes...’”Probably just some confused French guy....”if you just explain to them”...Thank god their back was to me and didn’t see me approach because I needed time to control the nervous spasms of my stomach.
Darn my shy nature!
Okay..I was ready.
“Parlez-vous anglais?”Please speak English, Please speak English....
“Yes?”, The stranger phrased it as a question. I should be the one asking the freakin’ questions here! He turned to face me, I assumed he was looking at me,a black and white jazz hat covered his eyes.
“I’m sorry to bother you but I think you’re sitting on my mat.”
He stood up. He wasn’t overly tall, 5’9 , maybe, taller .He removed his hat to reveal a messy ponytail with short regrowth on the sides of his head where it had been shaved. I could now see his eyes and they were a brilliant green,turned up at the sides with his blinding grin.
“I’m sorry ma’am , But I think you might be mistaken. I was under the impression that this was my picnic blanket.” Even with that charming southern drawl, that annoyed the heck out of me.
“ Is that you plastic bag of fruit too ?” I questioned sarcasticly, pointing to the bag at the foot of the tree.
“ No..I’m not sure why that’s there?” He asked more than stated in response.
I smiled.
“i still think that’s my blanket.”
“why, is that your fruit?”
“Yes”
“Why is it there may I ask?”
“Because I put it there whilst you weren’t looking..Whadya think?”I rolled my eyes. I had no Idea where this courage was coming from...annoyance perhaps.”Is that your mat there?” I pointed to a vacant mat, very similar but with different colours, by the next tree along.
He blushed “Stupid...” He murmured “I’m so sorry ma’am, my mistake, have a nice day,” he mumbled, smiling timidly and replacing his hat. replacing his hat. He tipped it in my direction and took his guitar back to his respective mat. By the way he walked I could tell he was embarrassed. Something about the way he kicked the ground and he walked, hands in his pocket. He looked so sad, so lonely.
I sat down on my mat, watching the guy walk towards his own. I took a sip of my Hot Chocolate. It didn’t taste as sweet as It smelled, and a sharp pang of pain hit me in my lower abdomen...”oh no...here comes the guilt.” I cringed mentally.
And come it did.
Why did I have to be so harsh on him? It was just a misunderstanding. I didn’t even say have a nice day, What’s wrong with me? I should go apologize, he was so sweet about it...But what if he thinks I’m a jerk?....Stuff it, I’m gonna go and apologize.
I mustered up my courage and humble apologies and head for the next tree over, thinking all 20 secinds of the way thay what the I could say to him to apologise for being such a jerk.
My occupied mind didn’t notice the quiet mournful strumming of the stranger I had so wrongly treated.
I stood behind him for a solid 30 seconds, nervous and guilty before I finally cleared my voice.
“E...excuse me...” I stammered.
“ What can I do for you darling’?...” At first as he had faced, me his face was alight with a smile, but it fell, to a weak little turn up at the corner of his mouth as he came to realise it was me...the jerk from the mat.
“Hi..” I half smiled, half grimaced.
“Hello..” He began awkwardly.
‘Just get in there and apologize before you look like an idiot!’I told my self as a metal pep-talk.
“I’msorryforactinglikeajerkandbeingsosnappy!”I blurted out. ‘I’m not trying to make excuses but it probably wasn’t the best time for me to find some random guy on my picnic blanket.”I unzipped by jacket a little to show him the disaterous stain from the Cafe.He opened his mouth to say something but I didn’t let him speak. “I’m sorry for being so cranky and overreacting and I rwally truly am sorry,I hope you don’t think I’m usually like that and I thank you for being so understanding, even though I know I don’t deseve it-”
“Woah,waoh,hang on there missy!”He was smiling now. That was a relief.”Don’t you worry about it! I can tell your really ,really sorry.” His laugh.. I was surprised I was still standing..I had a sense of Déjà Vou.... “And really I wasn’t angry with you, I was actually really angry with myself for being such an idiot. I’m really sorry actually , for well, you know....”
“Don’t apologize.I shouldn’t have gone off at you like that. It was wrong of me-”
“But I should be the one...”
“No I insist that-”I insisted.
“Look. Let’s agree to forgive eachother for whatever we supposedly did and Leave it at that.” He smiled and winked...Thud!
“I forgive you!” We both said in usision and we both began to laugh.
I then realised, listening to his deep chuckle , why I’d had a sense of Déjà Vou..
“You didn’t happen to be playing your guitar earlier did you?”I asked..perhaps it wasn’t the trees...
“Yeah I was...I was sitting down then I walked around playing for a whiel..you know, people watchin’, then I sat back down on what I thought was my mat...”
“You’re really good.” I smiled.
He did too. Blushing. Bashful. Beautiful.
“Thanks.” He extended his hand towards me, smiling again. “I’m ..er, Jackson. Jackson Monroe.”
“Amy.” I smiled yet again, accepting his hand and shaking it. “You know, if you really wanted to sit on my mat, you could. I don’t think your going to abduct me. Forgive me if im’ wrong but you looked a bit lonely . I don’t usually invite people, let alone strange men to sit with me in a foreign,non-english speaking country, so this offer is a one off.” Where did that come from?
“ You know what ? I think I might just Take you up on that offer Miss Amy.” The way he said my name, combined with his smile made little butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Thankyou.”
Without checking to see if he was following me, or weiling a sharp knife, I turned and walked back to my own mat.
A moment or two later, Jackson joined me, sitting cross-legged infront of me, guiter slung across his back and folded up picnic blanket beside him.
“So.”
“So.” I agreed.
“This is awkward.”
“Yup.”
“What’s your favourite flower?” He asked suddenly.
“Um, Well...I don’t know...I guess I like Jasmine. I smells wonderful and looks so tiny and delicate..I guess. Why?”
“Why not?”
“Touché.”
We smiled. It seemed allot of that was happening today.
“Well honestly, I needed something to break the silence. Not that I don’t mind silences, I just can’t stand awkward ones.”
“I know what you mean.” I agreed. “So what’s your favourite flower”
He grinned “Men don’t usually have favourite flowers.”
“But do you?”
