Thursday, March 4, 2010

free footed author of all

[just a story that's been stuck in my head. this is just a really bad introduction. i am not good at writing prose. i am anxious to get to any part involving dialogue. i am terrible at it and it frightens me! [i know sometimes it's in past tense and others in present but i'm too lazy to fix it at the moment, plus, i can't decide.]

Monte didn't love Tessla Azul because she was extremely beautiful. She had plain brown hair, freckles despite her tanned skin, and had a lopsided grin. He didn't love her because she was extremely smart or exceptionally talented. Except writing, she was a world acclaimed author. According to Tessla, she had written every book and piece of literature ever known to man. This was due to the fact that she would simply scratch out any author's name and replace it with her's. She had a problem reading anything she didn't write herself.
That was one reason Monte loved Tessla. She made absolutely no sense all the time which just made so much sense to him. She never wore shoes. Not even to school. Her mother had to ask the principal for a special exception. Not that it mattered, Tessla would have gone barefoot with or without any special exception. "Our feet are our soles, Monte. And they are also our souls.", she would say, giggling at her own joke. It didn't make sense to Monte, but it didn't not make sense either.
That's what was so great about Tessla, He thought a lot about her but he never knew what to think. Sometimes he thought about what forever would be like with Tessla, what kind of mother she would be. But he knew they were not soul mates. No one would ever be Tessla's soul mate. Because her spirit was far to massive to fit inside the arms of any man [or woman, Tessla didn't judge those kind of things.]
But her body fit perfectly inside his arms as he sat behind her on the blanket they laid out by the river, watching the sun set. They did this every Friday, to celebrate the weekend. Every Sunday they would watch a zombie movie, to lament the start of the school week. Her hair always smelled like something different. Today it smelled like lavender and he was glad. Sometimes it smelled like things it shouldn't, like pickle juice or car oil.
Tessla Azul was by all definitions weird. And Monte Martin was not. He wrote bad poetry, collected stolen street signs, and wanted to be a weatherman. All his stolen streets signs were from Tessla. She liked to steal things. Not products in stores or people's personal items, just things, in public, that she thought were free enough. Monte had said that he felt bad for these items. They were free and could be themselves and not have to please anybody and she forced them into his possession against their will. So, to make up for it, she would set one item of her own free when she stole something. Monte didn't understand it, but he kind of did.
People did not get why Tessla and Monte were together. Tessla's parents were both writers and they thought Monte was a character and they seemed to think that everything Monte said was funny. Monte thought they were weird. Monte's mother was an elementary school teacher and his father was a photographer. Not the artistic kind that travels or works with models. He mostly did yearbook pictures and family portraits. Both his parents thought Tessla was sweet and interesting and a bit off.
Tessla and Monte had been together for 2 years, except for a three month period where Tessla was convinced that Monte was an alien. They were still friends though. She just had personal issues with dating an alien and asked if Monte could please not take offense. Monte didn't really get it at all. But he liked it.
One time they had sex. Spiritually it was magical, physically it was just okay. They both agreed it wasn't their forte and they should probably just leave it up to the professionals, but they were glad it happened. They didn't kiss much either, only when they were especially filled with love for each other at that moment. They didn't want the meanings of things to become obsolete or worn from use. They didn't say "I love you", but they said "I appreciate you." Monte got that.
They didn't talk a lot when they watched the sun set. Sometimes Monte would make up bad poems on the spot and whisper them in Tessla's ear. Sometimes she would spout off random "Tessla-isms", certain proverbs and facts of life she was prone to create. Monte kept a list of them. He didn't tell Tesla this. He didn't know if she would get it or appreciate it.
He didn't know how long she intended to grace him with her presence. She claimed forever, because he was good. But Tessla's forever and an average person's forever are a lot different. Monte was glad he got that, otherwise he would certainly be heartbroken when she leaves on some great adventure, free footed and filled with joyful memories. He often thought of what it would be like when she leaves. Will he still be happy when his life is significantly more mundane? Monte thinks he will be alright. He hoped she'd send him postcards.

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