Being (A Short)

Being is a short story in the up coming (2nd) self published book by R. T. Scott which can be found at the end of his first self published book "Cognitive Dissonance" which can be found here. Enjoy!

    The muffled noise bled through the filters. The sound waves rippled in space like a wind through a sail: thick and plush. I adjusted the masts and ventured through the sea of notes as the world unfolded before me. The onomatopoeia spelled themselves in my mind as the strings "tingged". That feeling of awareness was back. I could feel everything that I was hearing. Colors painted the blank canvas in my head, occupying my mind with vivid thoughts. I caught a scent of  her perfume; she smelled of ocean breeze: fresh and warm. I could feel the rays of the sun on my body, forming beads of sweat on my brow. The tide would roll in and tickle my toes. 

     The music stopped as I looked at her with sadness in my eyes. It was almost a fear of being alone. A fear of being away from her. A fear of this moment being the last we'd have together. She inadvertently stared at herself through the gloss of my irises. Hers began to iridesce due to the play of the sun. She had to go. She had to leave. 

      

    In that short moment with her I had felt so alive. I had never felt so comfortable with myself. I had never felt so comfortable with another. But that was my first time: laying in a field of tall grass and wild flowers. She had slid one of her earbuds into my ear and we listened to an album together; our heads pressed together and our hearts beating in unison. The instrumental-post-rock music put my mind in a state of hypnosis. Her presence relaxed me. We had met once before: in a dream I had. She was as real; physically and personally. And I wanted to stop the world because of her. 

     

    Every night I travel back to that moment. That was the day I met an angel. One who smelled of ocean breeze: fresh and warm. And just like that I was alone, cold, and dead. I had realized that I would never be alive again. I had my time and the only way I'd ever be graced with such a beautiful presence is when she passes. She was in a car accident that day. Her heart stopped for three minutes and as they tried to defibrillate her, we spent an hour together, listening to an album of sounds and feeling. As they tried to bring her back from death she lived. She told me she had never been happier. See when you're dead, time slows to a close. And minutes are eternities. And those were the best three minutes of my death.

     I wonder if she thinks of me. I wonder if she knows I'm dead. I wonder if she knew she died. 

     

     Before she arrived, I had forgotten. I forgot how it feels to be.