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How ‘odd’, an A to Z short story
Absterging his mind was not a possibility. Babeldom filled his mind; her voice over powering his subconscious. Cafard singing that brought back memories of every kiss; of every smile that had lighted his world. Deosculate kisses that were measured in love; not seconds, minutes, nor intensity. Enow was not a word in the definition of love; yet, unfortunately she spoke it suddenly three months before.
Fatalism defined, he thought, once he realized her kiss was a goodbye kiss. Gynics was not something he felt men could ever master. Haussmannizing his heart and the physical world would be a priority. “Ideopraxist will be my middle name”. “Jolterhead, is more like it,” remarked his best friend. Kakorrhaphiophobia at love, he thought, was probably more his speed. Ladronism of the heart is not what he had expected.
Matutinal hours were never his best. Nakedizing for work was out of the question and sleepy eyes tended to not be fashion conscious. Oppidan living though had its perks, and being able to stop at Starbucks on the way to work was one of them. Palative venti in hand, he walks over to the condiment stand. Quiritation voices attract his attention.
Raisonneur was the best word to describe the woman sitting to the left of a group of three women he recognized having seen at work. Sensiferous lip movement and vocalized words added to her immediate magnetism. Tacent action, other than a smile hello, was the appropriate action; however, he immediately decided to be more energetic at work later that day.
Unzymotic luck was on his side and he located her office far quicker than he could ever imagine. Velation was never a consideration, and he shyly said hello and that he was intrigued by the conversation she was having with her friends at Starbucks. Watchet eyes only added to her allure.
Xystus outings followed; and their first deep kiss was under a brilliant star lit sky. “Y’all make a fine couple,” their friends were fond of saying; and the couple would reply, “See y’all at our wedding in June.”
Zwieback on the tables at the wedding reception could not match the sweetness of their love.
(How ‘odd’, an A to Z short story, c. Steven S. Walsky, March 2015.)