Mayra Lopez

Love Me with Words

            “Quit looking at me.”

            “I can’t.’

            “Well then stop making it so damn obvious!”

            “You’re really bad at receiving compliments, aren’t you?”

            “A compliment is a sweet remark. You said it, I respond with a thank you, and we move on.”

            “I’m complimenting you with only my eyes. I don’t even have to speak.”

            “Well it’s creepy.”

            “I can also compliment you with my arms.”

            “Spare me Casanova. Please go bother someone else.

            “You know, that’s what I love about you.”

            “What?”

“The way you try to push me away, but it only makes me want to get closer to you.”

            “Oh brother…”

            “Want me to compliment you with my lips?”

            “If I say yes will you disappear?”

            “Not even if you begged me.”

The Lonely Tree on the Hill

            There once was a lonely tree on a hill that never seemed to have any visitors. You see, the hill was quite high and nobody ever made it to the very top where he lived. So the tree kept to his self day and night. Sometimes he would stare from above as the other animals and trees laughed together and played with each other. There was nothing the lonely tree could do to join. His roots were unfortunatly connected to the ground.

            One day, the lonely tree suddenly began to weep nonstop from all the sadness that was in his heart. A tree can only be lonely for so long. As the tree continued to cry, he failed to notice a sparrow flying above him. This specific bird had just found a tulip see I some faraway garden, and was taking it to his nest to deliciously enjoy.  Startled by the lonely tree’s sudden cries, the sparrow clumsily dropped the tulip seed right next to the tree. The lonely tree did not notice this, and continued to cry. The tears were so many, that some even managed to drip down his trunk and reach the tulip seed.

            Suddenly, amidst all the sadness, there was a sudden cheery hello. The lonely tree sniffed and looked around in confusion. Had he imagined another voice? Hello, he heard again. Finally, the lonely tree looked down, and to his amazement discovered a violet tulip right next to him. Being the polite tree that he is, he responded with a hello as well.

            The lonely tree failed to understand how the tulip had managed to reach the tall, tall hill. And so, the violet told his story and the lonely tree patiently listened. After the tulip was done sharing his experience, he and the lonely tree found themselves talking and talking. They discussed the birds, flowers, and the different shapes the clouds seemed to form on gray days. They had conversations about their favorite colors and their favorite insects to look at. They even made turns with each other making up silly stories.

            Before either of them noticed, nightfall had arrived. And as they both stared up at the twinkling stars, the lonely tree turned towards the violet tulip and whispered, thank you for being my friend. The tulip looked up and stared at the lonely tree began to weep again. Except, these were not tears of loneliness, but of joy. No one deserves to be lonely, said the violet tulip. And with that, the tree and the tulip continued to stare at the night sky together. The lonely tree was never lonely again.

            These two friends continued to spend the rest of their lives side by side. Even after the tree’s last leaf fell to the ground, and the last petal of the tulip dropped, their friendship never, ever died.

Café of the Past

            I took a sip of my coffee, being careful not to burn my tongue. It was bitter. Normally I would have enjoyed such flavor, but today it filled me with melancholy. The strong aroma of my beverage, as well as its taste, was bringing me painful memories. It triggered something inside my head, something that reminded me of times I wished to forget.

            I remember being fourteen years old and stealing sips of my father’s coffee in the mornings. My mother always had a gigantic cup ready for him. The sweet smell would fill the house and I would be able to catch a whiff of it all the way from my room. Luckily for me, my father had a bathroom routine where he shaved and did other things that don’t necessarily matter to me. All I cared about was using those 7 minutes to quickly scamper to the kitchen and dip a cookie or two inside of his coffee before anyone noticed.

            Mother didn’t think it appropriate for young girls to drink caffeinated drinks, so I wasn’t allowed to get my own cup of delicious coffee. This didn’t mean I wouldn’t occasionally find ways to sample some. I continued to get sips of it from my father’s cup for two more years. I felt rather clever having gone so long without ever being caught.

            Eventually I grew to be seventeen and old enough to be able to finally get my own cup of Joe. My mother and father aren’t together anymore so things are very different to how they were when I was fourteen. One thing that has not changed is the love for coffee my family has. Weekend mornings when I don’t work, I’ll wake up to the very familiar scent that I grew up with. I’ll wake up excited to share a cup with my mother, enjoying a private moment with her before everyone else wakes up.

            During one particular morning, me and my mother were recollecting fond moments we have shared over coffee. I brought up the times where I had sneaked sips of my father’s own cup of coffee without ever getting caught. To this, my mother laughed. When I asked her what was so funny, she responded to me by saying that her and my father had known all along what I was doing. They would notice small cookie crumbs floating in the coffee. They decided not to ruin my fun by continuing to play along with my game. My cheeks got flushed, but I smiled nonetheless. It was a sweet, bitter memory till the very end.

            Here I was by myself enjoying a drink that had been part of my life for a long time. It had been there when my parents were still together and everyone was happy. It was there when my parents got divorced and it tore our family apart. It had been there when I learned to forgive my father’s mistakes and move on with my life. My coffee fills me with a very familiar feeling, something that will always give me a little piece of childhood to enjoy.

An Ex-Boyfriend, Binoculars, & a Lucky Charm

            Mel forced every cell in her body to quiet down. She didn’t dare to gulp, even though she was dying to. She stretched her tongue out and managed to catch a drip of sweat which was trickling down her cheek. She had to be very still, unless she wanted to give her hide out away. This wasn’t any bank robbery or murder scene. I guess it could have been considered somewhat of a mission. Mel Johnson was hiding in an unused garbage can spying on her ex-boyfriend change in the boys’ locker room.

            She was able to get a good view from peeking out of a small opening in the can. There in front of her was the guy of her dreams, the one that had gotten away. She couldn’t believe how amazing he still looked. More than that, she couldn’t believe how much she still missed him. She lowered her binoculars for a moment to wipe away the perspiration that was forming on the lens. Curse you fog!

            They were starting to get blurry from the heat omitting off the showers. After more careful cleaning, she could see clearly again. She recognized his back from the rest of the other boys. It was so beautiful. She’d seen it a dozen times. She shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the dizziness she was experiencing. Get a hold of yourself Mel! You can’t give up just yet! Her grasp tightened on the lucky charmed bracelet he had given her only months ago.

Anura

            She smiled and whispered her name, “Anura.” Not many were lucky enough to have this beautiful sounding name. Only the very few patients who had shown remarkable abilities were allowed to use it as their own. As far as Anura knew, only two others in the institute shared it with her. “Oh well,” she thought “this building is huge. Chances of ever meeting another one are slim.” She treasured her name. It was the only thing that she owned.

            She brushed away a strand of hair from her eyes. It was white and glossy, just like the rest of her head. This was a side effect she had acquired from all the chemicals that were forced into her body. It was also extremely short. If not for her strikingly beautiful face, she could almost be confused for a boy. Almost rarer than her hair were her bright red eyes, another consequence she was forced to endure from all the experimenting which was done to her.

            “My name is Anura, and I am one of a kind.” She told the wind. She was leaning her face outside of her window, appreciating everything. She couldn’t see much because of the thick bars that were locked across. The security inside the building was extremely careful about keeping everything inside, stay inside, Anura included. Suddenly, a small pigeon landed on the sill of the window. It curiously looked around before noticing Anura. It stared at her for quite some time. Anura didn’t move, she didn’t want the only company she’s had in years to leave.

“Dinner in five!” shouted one of the guards passing outside the room. This startled the bird, which expanded its wings and flew upward. “No! Please don’t go,” begged Anura. She extended an arm but it was no use, the bird was already gone. “I want to be free too.” It was no use shedding tears, being alone wasn’t something new to her. That arm of hers reaching into the sky stayed there unmoving, but then slowly lowered. She leaned her head against the bars and stared hard at nothing in particular. “I’m getting out of here.” As she mouthed these words silently, her red eyes glowed a little bit brighter than usual.