Allen trudges back to the bedroom to get his gym bag. Just beneath the bag, sitting at the foot of the bed, is an envelope of pictures. Without opening it, Allen sets the pictures of he and Jamie at the Atlanta botanical garden on top of his dresser. Official keeper of all-things-sentimental she must have left them behind last weekend. As an afterthought, Allen picks the envelope up off the dresser and sits on the edge of the bed to flip through them.

[Interesting Flower #1: large purple flowers that look like cups.]

Allen stares blankly.

[Interesting Flower #2: really light blue with lots of small flowers]

He strokes his chin scientifically and emits, “Um-hm.”

[Not an interesting flower.]

Allen looks perplexed. Why photograph that one? Jamie had thought they were all mesmerizing though.

[Interesting Flower #3: large clumps of small yellow flowers shaped like dust mops.]

“Ah yes, the rhoden… aram modi… menicus.” Then he snickers. His fake Latin was exceptional.

He pauses at each flower whereas before he would have tucked one and another of the photographs away looking for photos of people doing things. He didn’t know anything about the numbers of petals or the difference between a pistil and a stamen. There was nothing to recognize except for the brilliance of the colors in the sun that day. It had been beautiful, clear and blue and left Allen to wandering absently. But if he had been walking in thought of some kind up ahead of her, Jamie would holler after him, “Oh my God! Look at these gorgeous Dendrobium orchids.”

[Allen leaning into the frame of the picture with his eyes closed in bliss at the scent of several large saucer-like flowers.]

He furrows his brow and tries to remember the smell. There was an essence of brown sugar that he could remember but he didn’t know what to name it.

In most of the pictures he was in, he was mugging the camera, his smiles exaggerated, his eyes wide as if nothing could bring him greater joy than… yes, flowers. Then, Allen found one picture that Jamie had taken without his knowing.

[A curved line drops from one edge of the photo to the other: a hilltop overlooking a pond. Near the crest of the hill, beneath a tree, sits Allen, lost in thought.]

He remembers that thought, a decision about the future that he was pondering and an unspoken prelude to their argument three days ago. Things with Jamie were moving forward and he had been thinking about that. His face in the photo looked relaxed, the distant horizon in the photograph printed next to his nose.

Read the whole thread: A Low Cloud Reflex

Characters and Places: , , , , ,