You might be wondering how I ended up in such a peculiar situation. Indeed, the story is quite amusing and I have nothing but time; but where to begin? Ah, I suppose from the beginning of the day would be the most logical, yes.
The day started just like any other Saturday, I suppose. After eating breakfast and watching the news, I filled my thermos with coffee and packed myself a simple lunch: a nice, quiet ham sandwich. I looked at the clock: 10:00 AM. Realizing I was almost late, I hurried my preparations and flung myself out the door.
It was typically a short drive, you know. There was a public park on the way that usually had an open parking space. It was awfully convenient as otherwise it was a rather long walk from my house. I remember once my car got a sudden flat and I had to walk that entire distance and I almost didn't make it in time. With luck on my side, I made it in perfect enough time to take my usual spot on the park bench looking out toward Willow Street. It has a great view of the laundromat, you see.
As if on cue, she exited with her laundry basket in hand. She had a wry smile and confident stride, and those eyes. Those are eyes you can get lost in forever. I waited for her to get a bit of a lead down the street, as you're supposed to do, right? After all, that helps you keep a closer distance when you're following along. All I needed to do was stay as quiet as a mouse. Little did she know that she loved me and I loved her the same. I just had to avoid startling her.
Luckily, it is not a long walk to her house afterwards. It did not take long for her to bring her laundry in and begin hanging it out in the backyard. Meanwhile, I crept up behind the fence and waited for my moment. The moment the back door closed, I silently hopped the fence and snuck towards the clothesline. I could not resist taking one of the shirts in my hands and sniffing it. Ah, yes, it would not be long before she would finally be close enough that I could smell her in my arms and stare into those eyes. Soon, but not now.
I was startled by a swift motion in my periphery. I looked up and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. Thankfully, the bedroom curtains appeared closed. I was too exposed; I needed to find cover before they opened. With stealthy grace I climbed the tall tree in the yard. The limbs were sturdy enough to camp up there for hours if one was agile enough. Once I was safely ensconced in my usual bough, I poured some coffee from my thermos and waited.
The day passed uneventfully. She went about her usual housework and relaxation. I imagined myself helping, holding her, caressing her, and that soon my discipline would pay off. Sometime after dusk, I could not find her in any of her rooms. I wondered, had she gone out when I wasn't paying attention? She never went out on Saturdays, I knew. Concerned, I snuck into her house. I had seen her enter her security code a million times before, I was practically a resident myself.
With practiced quiet, I crept up the stairs avoiding every creaky board with familiar ease. At last, I arrived at the bedroom door. I had never discovered how to enter this room without making noise. This door was an old adversary, one of the final obstacles to her heart. I caressed the brass knob with hesitant desire. My fingers nearly shook as I took hold of it, only to find that it swung open with ease. Uttering silent thanks, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness. I was soon relieved to see that she was laid in her bed in serene silence. I suppressed every urge telling me to wake her.
Panic overtook me, I darted into the closet. The door was slatted, allowing me to see out into the room somewhat. I turned around, inspecting my new hiding place. My fingers bristled against something loose adhered to the wall.
Curiosity set in. I took out my phone and turned its flashlight onto the lowest setting. I cupped the light to prevent its spread. What I saw set my heart beating. Lining the entire wall were polaroid photographs, each with red ink marking the date they were taken.
Then I noticed the subject of each photo. I recognized the park in one, with someone sitting at the bench. Another was with my car, with me talking to the tow truck driver about my flat. Surrounding my face in that one was a heart in the same red ink. There were some of me eating, working, walking, each with meticulously arranged dates. Then I looked to the end of the series. The last photo taken was of the tree in her back yard where I was camped and drinking coffee. It was dated for today.
"At last," came a familiar voice from behind.
She was opening the closet door behind me. My heart melted instantly.
"Little did you know," she began, "that you love me and I love you the same."
She took out a baseball bat.
"One day, we'll have a pretty wedding and you'll be my everything." She continued, raising the bat aloft, "You just need to see it first."
The next thing I knew, I was chained down here with you, my skeleton friend. Of course, the only thing you've got in your ears is cobwebs, but we'll clean you up once she comes back down. I wonder what's for breakfast this morning, and when she'll finally remove these irons.
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