My Side of the Brook

The sunny brook was full of life. It babbled subtly, and the leaves shuffled about in the cool and gentle wind. Serenity abounded here, and it was full of goodness. I strode across the narrow brown bridge that was matted with bright green moss. I laid down before the brook, with my arms in front of me, under my chin. I looked on as she came into view, beyond the foliage of the forest, and strode forward into the light of the sun near the brook.

She was beautiful. Her shining brown hair rolled down her shoulders, framing her face like a masterpiece. Her smile took no doing; it was as natural as her wonderful blue eyes. The complexion she had was as clear and pure as the most precious silk. The sunlight glanced off her form, and she was an angel wearing a white dress.

I adored her like none other. I would wait for her by the brook every day, and she would come and sit down on the other side. She would take off her shoes and soak her lovely feet in the refreshing waters of the brook, while looking at her reflection in the clear waters. Innocently, I would look on at her, kicking my feet behind me. Out of sheer adulation, I would smile uncontrollably and lose myself in my adoration for her.

She would only stay for a few moments. Once her feet had become cold she would take them out of the cool waters and dance around gracefully in the grass to dry them off. Putting on her white cotton socks and black shoes, she would look down at me for a moment, with her natural smile beaming at me luminously, then turn her head and walk away, leaving as elegantly as she had arrived.

In that time, we had never spoken to each other. Our only interaction was the exchange of looks right before she departed. I wanted to get up and go over to her, and talk to her as she soaked her feet. But I had never been a courageous boy, and so I never did. I hoped that she would someday walk across the bridge that separated us, and sit next to me while she soaked her feet. But I had never been a fortunate boy, so it never happened.

On this particular day, she finished soaking her feet and pulled them from the brook. She turned away from me and trod on the grass for a time, and then she donned her socks and shoes, in accordance with her established pattern. She turned her lovely form to me, and gave me the passive smile I knew and loved. However, this time she did not turn away. She kept smiling at me in her special way, for so long it seemed as though each second was a year.

Then she got up on the bridge, and she walked forward carefully with her beautiful feet. Dainty, shapely feet that I knew every inch of, having looked at them and studied them for so long. One foot in front of the other, she walked over the bridge, and hopped down off of it. She was to my right, looking down on me as I looked up at her. The smile on my face had reached enormous proportions. So many wonderful thoughts went through my head.

I dreamt that she had finally realized that our ritual of going to the brook together after school was a sign that we were truly meant for each other. I dreamt that she transgressed the bridge in order to express her love to me from a nearer position. I dreamt she would lay down with me in the grass, and we would share a sweet kiss as the sun shone down on us. I dreamt that this would be only the beginning of something wonderful that would last eternally.

So, as I lay there, looking up at her as she smiled down on me, the brook was as wonderful a place as it had ever been. At that moment her face began to change. Her pretty lips began to assume another shape, bending down on the sides. Her enchanting eyebrows began to push on her eyes, and her forehead wrinkled. Her nostrils flared as she stomped her foot.

"Why do you always sit there and look at me? Why do you always sit there and smile? I pay you no attention every single day that I come out here and wash my feet, yet you reward me with your ridiculous grin constantly! What must I do in order to push your attention elsewhere? I abhor you! It is absolutely incidental that you happen to frequent this area of the brook, the same area that I do! It is pure coincidence! Coincidence does not breed love, boy! Smile at me no more!"

She turned away from me, and stomped off as if she were still yelling. Her harsh words ehoed in my head loudly and painfully as she crossed the bridge, and sought cover from the sun and my smile in the forest. She walked further and further away, until I could see her no more.