Ten Years After – Class Reunion Dilemma

She arrived wearing a rented dress and borrowed wings

Pumps a bit too large, purse that didn’t quite match

Her make-up, usually never perfect, wasn’t perfect

One sparkly bracelet from a discount store

Her mothers silver watch on the other arm

The bathroom mirror tried to be pleasing but wouldn’t

But she was fine with it; it was the best she could do

 

Her mind teetered between abject fear and fantasy

Memories or imagination; she wasn’t quite clear

Ten years gone and nothing to show for it

Outside the storm awaited as she cleared her mind

Stepping through the door to the unknown

She dug deep for her Sunday morning smile

And took her first steps toward the gathered crowd

 

Like a ghost, she passed through the couples and groups

Admiring the suits, tuxedos, and the long silky gowns

The flowers pinned to their lapels and on their wrists

Reminiscent of prom night; that’s what the invitation said

The gymnasium felt like a time warp, complete with the smell

A cover band searching through the archives of her youth

Dancing couples reminding her of her loneliness

 

Not once was she stopped, not a single “hello” or “hi”

Moving with the impunity of something invisible she walked

At least she wasn’t being criticized or patronized

She clutched her purse close and found a dark corner table

Alone she sat, waiting for something which she couldn’t identify

Waiting for something to change her mundane life

An awakening at a class reunion; she nearly laughed out loud

 

One hour she thought to herself, and then I’ll slip away

Maybe a drink, listen to some music, and just observe

Her only friend from the past had moved far away

So she was alone, secluded, in a self-imposed prison

Fear of the unknown had kept her invisible in school

Now that same fear settled into familiar territory

Her walls of protective energy again under construction

 

Eyes scanning the faces in suits with big round bellies

Ladies already showing the effects of children and family

She chuckled softly to herself as if she’d won some sort of prize

“At least I’m not tied down,” she thought to herself

Eyes darting from the dance floor to her mothers watch

She failed to notice the man approaching from her left

As he closed on her empty table, she began to turn in his direction

 

And width became something only imagined by camera makers

As she caught her first glance of the most amazing man she’d ever seen

Depth was eternal and height was like standing on a tall building

Adrenaline rushing through her core, like alcohol on a flame

She even felt the heat deep within her loins, someplace mysterious

Nothing else was visible, as if her world suddenly didn’t matter

And it was cast away without regard for anything in the future

 

The man continued his lively pace in her direction

She turned to look behind her, just in case

He was walking to meet someone behind her table

And yet she realized her vantage point was indeed a corner

And this man was indeed walking over to her table

But to what end she thought, what motive or plan?

“Perhaps an elaborate joke meant to cause me despair?”

 

“Hello,” he spoke with a crackle on his voice

An obvious reveal that he’s nervous or scared

She dropped her defenses before all were deployed

Her eyes in full capture; possessed by this boy

Who could he be, she thought as she watched

Each photo in the yearbook, she’d put into memory

But none looked just like him, so who could he be?

 

To Be Continued….

R J Schwartz

I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all.I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed.I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another.I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me.I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.

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R J Schwartz

I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all. I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed. I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another. I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me. I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.

3 thoughts on “Ten Years After – Class Reunion Dilemma

  • September 28, 2017 at 8:23 PM
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    I’ve never been to a class reunion, but I can imagine how it would sort the wheat from the chaff. People are so transparent and competitive. Nice story though and looking forward to the conclusion. Well done Ralph.

    Reply
  • September 29, 2017 at 6:51 AM
    Permalink

    Well now you intrigued me. You also reminded me why I never attended the on class reunion I had the chance to attend. Too frightening to think about it. I need to know what happens…

    Reply

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