"Tell me a story," she jested over the phone.
"A story, huh?" he laughed, "like, what?"
"I dunno. Just tell me a story." She said dreamily.
He laughed again, "Okay, um... Once upon a mother fuckin time..." he laughed again. Mary giggled in reply and waited with hope. "So... there was this fucking... I dunno..." he laughed again, feeling stage fright.
"Tell me a story about..." she let out a soft sigh, "um, how about your favorite color."
"My favorite color? Come on now, that's ridiculous. My favorite color?" He laughed again. The conversation flowed between flirting and waiting. Neither Mary nor John dared to stop flirting but, they both anticipated a move that neither provided.
"Well, this one time... no, I dunno." He laughed feeling slightly timid but, persisted, "This one time, I painted a room this really fucking great color..." They laughed together at the silliness of his story.
"Did I ever tell you that I wanted to be a painter?" She replied with gusto.
"Yeah." He said with sincerity and familiarity.
"Well... Did I tell you about the time I painted a mural on a bridge with Tony?"
"Ya, know, I don't think you have..." he laughed again at the thought. Even though he had known Tony for most of his life, he still didn't quite know Mary and the thought of the two of them doing something so robust made him chuckle with intrigue.
"Well, it was unsolicited. We got caught pretty much immediately." She laughed at the thought of herself being so brandish at the influence of her older brother. Always playing it safe, Mary didn't follow in Tony's footsteps but, on that particular day, she was feeling frisky. Tony could sense the desire to rebel in her and she accepted it, welcomed it. They took paint to the bridge with abandon. It was only later, after the settling in of guilt, had Mary realized she had accepted Tony's punishment at the same moment she accepted her own creative freedom.
"Oh, for sure? You got in trouble? Miss Mary quite contrary did a bad thing?" John let out a gut noise that filled the phone momentarily.
"Yeah!" Mary replied in hurt and surprise, "I DID get in trouble! Maybe Tony had a worse punishment. I forget. I went back and painted over all of the words I wrote. I learned my lesson." She said it with such sincerity that John wanted to hug her, though the distance was too far via telephone.
"Wow, you are such a badass." John laughed at his own joke.
"Shut up!" Mary laughed along with him. They smiled at each other, both hearing and feeling the smiles of each other on either end. Mary twirled the back of her curly hair with her left hand. John rubbed the back of his head. Their familiarity ringing softly in each other's ears with each breath and sigh.
"A story, huh?" he laughed, "like, what?"
"I dunno. Just tell me a story." She said dreamily.
He laughed again, "Okay, um... Once upon a mother fuckin time..." he laughed again. Mary giggled in reply and waited with hope. "So... there was this fucking... I dunno..." he laughed again, feeling stage fright.
"Tell me a story about..." she let out a soft sigh, "um, how about your favorite color."
"My favorite color? Come on now, that's ridiculous. My favorite color?" He laughed again. The conversation flowed between flirting and waiting. Neither Mary nor John dared to stop flirting but, they both anticipated a move that neither provided.
"Well, this one time... no, I dunno." He laughed feeling slightly timid but, persisted, "This one time, I painted a room this really fucking great color..." They laughed together at the silliness of his story.
"Did I ever tell you that I wanted to be a painter?" She replied with gusto.
"Yeah." He said with sincerity and familiarity.
"Well... Did I tell you about the time I painted a mural on a bridge with Tony?"
"Ya, know, I don't think you have..." he laughed again at the thought. Even though he had known Tony for most of his life, he still didn't quite know Mary and the thought of the two of them doing something so robust made him chuckle with intrigue.
"Well, it was unsolicited. We got caught pretty much immediately." She laughed at the thought of herself being so brandish at the influence of her older brother. Always playing it safe, Mary didn't follow in Tony's footsteps but, on that particular day, she was feeling frisky. Tony could sense the desire to rebel in her and she accepted it, welcomed it. They took paint to the bridge with abandon. It was only later, after the settling in of guilt, had Mary realized she had accepted Tony's punishment at the same moment she accepted her own creative freedom.
"Oh, for sure? You got in trouble? Miss Mary quite contrary did a bad thing?" John let out a gut noise that filled the phone momentarily.
"Yeah!" Mary replied in hurt and surprise, "I DID get in trouble! Maybe Tony had a worse punishment. I forget. I went back and painted over all of the words I wrote. I learned my lesson." She said it with such sincerity that John wanted to hug her, though the distance was too far via telephone.
"Wow, you are such a badass." John laughed at his own joke.
"Shut up!" Mary laughed along with him. They smiled at each other, both hearing and feeling the smiles of each other on either end. Mary twirled the back of her curly hair with her left hand. John rubbed the back of his head. Their familiarity ringing softly in each other's ears with each breath and sigh.
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