Point Of View
Point Of View:
A Short Story by A. R. Gordon.
She Said:
She walked down the street hand in hand with the man she loved. His palms were slightly sweaty from what she assumed was nerves. He always seems nervous around her which she found both annoying and endearing at the same time. His hair was getting kind of long but she didn’t mention it. They have been dating for only a few weeks but she already felt deeply for him. She wondered how he felt about her.
They stopped at a coffee shop.
He held the door open for her like the gentleman she had come to expect. She liked being treated like she was special. It made her feel as though she was his and he was hers. They took a seat in the back and ordered drinks. She ordered a cappuccino and he ordered coffee as black as the midnight sky. They sat and talked about all the things they had in common like their love for Kevin Smith films or the buildings of Frank Lyod Wright.
Their drinks came.
He drank his with an abnormal speed that made her worry he would hurt himself. He seemed preoccupied with something but decided it was best to let him handle it. She didn’t want to seem clingy. Her last boyfriend had called her clingy and left her. She had never really liked him but the sex had been good so she stayed around. This new guy was much better.
Once they finished their drinks they went browsing for books. They located some they were both interested in and each bought a copy. She paid for his and he paid for hers. It was a silly thing but it was a endearing, cute silly thing. The book they bought was “It was on fire when I laid down upon it” by Robet Fulgum. He had mentioned how he loved “All The Things I Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten” and figured he would like this one as well. She fained interest because she cared.
They left the bookstore and coffee house.
He walked her down the street to her place and waited as she opened the door. She had to stop herself from asking if he would like to come in for coffee out of pure reflex.That was what she asked people if she wanted to have sex with them. She wanted to have sex with her. Instead she took his slightly sweaty hand and led him inside.
They had sex.
After the sex he left to go to a meeting that she knew in advance he had coming up. She missed him mere seconds after he walked out the door. She read their book and waited for him to come back.
He Said:
He walked down the street holding the hand of a fairly attractive woman. He started to notice that his hand was slightly sweaty. He hoped that she hadn’t taken notice or that, if she did, she wouldn’t suspect the reason behind the moisture. He had come to enjoy this one-night-stand-come-relationship quite a lot but wasn’t really willing to leave his wife and kids for it. He knew it would end sometime but didn’t think he needed to worry about that at the moment. This woman was a wonderful way to kill time and she was so nice.
They stopped at a coffee shop.
He opened the door and stepped back. It was important for her to feel special. It was important for her to feel she was the only one. He looked around for a seat away from the window in case God’s sense of humor caused his wife to walk across the store front. After taking their seats in the back he ordered a black coffee for himself and she ordered a cappuccino. That is one of the reasons It could never work out. You drink flavored foam. They talked, or really she talked, about things she cared about and liked. Her heard something about Frank Lyod Wright or buildings or something but wasn’t really listening and just agreed with her like he knew what was going on.
Their drinks came.
He drank his drink in complete silence staring absently at the wall in front of him. There was a sign on the wall that said “She knows everything.” It was a sign for a self-help book or something along those lines. He saw another sign that said “Tempting fate is never a good idea...” It was an advertisement for some John Grisham novel. He decided that today would be their last day together.
They went browsing for books and she located one he knew his wife would like. He told her that he loved another book by the same author. He hadn’t but his wife had and he had skimmed it at least. They went up to the counter and she paid for his wife’s book and he paid for her’s. He laughed to himself at the irony of the situation.
They left the bookstore and coffee house.
They walked down the street to her place and he stepped aside as she opened the door. He had turned down her offer of a key because he feared his wife would find it and knew it would make the breaking up part so much worse. She dragged him into her flat to, he assumed, fuck him.
They had sex.
After the sex he left for a meeting. He always had an escape plan set up ahead of time. He knew that she would start reading the book they had bought and wait for him to call. He wondered if she would forever hate Robert Fulgum after today. Pitty, he thought, he has some really good advice for people who are abandoned by loved ones.