Message-ID: <46520asstr$1076101806@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: by_jane@literotica.org (jane) X-Original-Message-ID: <80045de.0402060840.581da566@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 6 Feb 2004 16:40:44 +0000 (UTC) X-Spamscanner: mailbox7.ucsd.edu (v1.4 Oct 30 2003 22:20:52, 0.0/5.0 2.60) X-MailScanner: PASSED (v1.2.8 88623 i16GfiWs004052 mailbox7.ucsd.edu) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 6 Feb 2004 08:40:43 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Glimpses 02/94 by jane Lines: 166 Date: Fri, 6 Feb 2004 16:10:06 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hoisingr, dennyw Author: jane Title: Glimpses 05/94 Summary: Libby makes a try at travelling back in time. Keywords: none Length: 853 words Copyright: c. 2004 *31 August 1996, Saturday - part three* _libby left for pearson in a cab on thursday evening ... a single suitcase, a tube of drawings for the client, a worry for a daughter 'on her own' ... a mother has to trust sometimes ... she said she knew about the picnic plan, that it was fine with her ... theres always telephones, she told me; our neighbourhoods secure, and marshas level-headed ... in truth, her mind was somewhere else ... her plane passed through the clouds, her suitcase passed though customs ... but libby traveled back in time, tried setting clocks back twenty years ... new york city ..._ § "Alice?" "Just think what you're suggesting, Lib." "I'm desperate." They strolled across a Staten Island lawn, stooping now and then to catch the colours of the late azalea beds. The twilight might have cooled them, but urban heat still hung like heavy curtains, keeping out the air. The rhythm of their pace was matched, a harnessed team. As if they'd walked together all their lives, they fell in step, a choreography of stops and starts and stares into the gloom. Alice had insisted on the garden tour, thought Libby, to give them time alone. _As if a change of scenery puts us more at ease. A flowered lane. Straight-forward, no regrets, no paths-not-taken._ "Alice, if I'd thought this through, I never would've come. I'm here on business. I thought ... " "You didn't think. You still don't trust yourself." "To tell the truth, I wanted Marsha with me. We would've been on Broadway, at some show tonight. She chose a picnic. Alone, I had to come. I had to see you." "You've never mentioned me to her?" "No. I may not either." "You should." "It's not that easy talking to a teen." She sighed. "No. It's more than that. Jim's like a wall between us. Like somehow I'm the cause." "She would've been ... what? Fourteen? It's hard to lose a father anytime, but ... fourteen? That's tough, Lib." "Life's hard on everyone." "I would've liked to meet her. Marsha?" "I wish you could. I'm so confused right now." "Relax." "I had to try. I think of you. I still remember how it was back then. You'd think in twenty years I could accept ..." Alice paused to pull a weed. "Remember that dreadful kitchen. The sink? I scrubbed so hard, I thought I'd make a hole." "It never did come clean." Libby tried to laugh. "We hiked to Kensington for greens and fruits each day. That sink saw awesome meals." "Awesome? Marsha keeps you young." "She keeps things to herself." "She's in her teens." Alice plucked a brazen dandelion. "I loved the Market. I never go there now. It felt so brave to shop with you. We looked like lovers. I was sure that everyone would know. How times have changed." "Some things change, Libby; some things don't. I was proud to be your lover. Whenever someone noticed, I thought how jealous they would be." "Alice?" "No." Her voice was flat and final. "I'm sorry. I won't spoil this. The garden's truly splendid." "We hate to leave this place, the flowers really. But Jill's been bitten by the travel bug." "She's nice. You're lucky, Alice." "We both found jobs in Wellington. A brand new cardiac resuscitation wing. South Seas, here we come!" "I envy you." "Next month, and you'd have missed us, me, completely." "I'm happy for you. Alice. Really." "Losing Jim, to die so suddenly, was devastating for you both." "I wanted you to come. I needed you so much right then." "Lib. Not after what you did to me. I couldn't." "Of course. I had no right." "I hope you find whatever you've been looking for. You have a child. That's what you wanted." Libby felt herself deflate. _Too late to offer arguments. Too late to plead. I've had my say. What's left, except to compliment her flowers again. I said too much already._ The taxi and the ferry ride provided time to ruminate. Her lover's voice brought back a flood of memories, sounds once heard across a breakfast bagel in their cold Spadina flat, words muffled in the sheets and twisted blankets of a still-warm bed: _I want to wake up in your arms forever._ Libby's finger twisted in a curl of hair. _Two years. That flat, that bed. Two years we laughed like there was no tomorrow._ She closed her eyes and shivered on the ferry's upper deck. _That makeshift shade that Alice made to hide the hanging kitchen bulb. The rough burn marks along the kitchen counter. Hear the way the cupboard door would close but never catch. Oh, Jim. You came along and spoiled it. I let you. It was me._ It hurt no less. There was no ending. Loose ends would never reach to tie. _Marsha. I should have made you come with me. Protect me from myself. If you could see me now. Your flitty Mom rejected. You'd really blame me then._ Libby watched the lordly Hudson hug Manhattan, watched the glow of Liberty, watched the time reluctantly return to present tense. This story cannot be reposted or published without the author's permission. All comments and queries can be addressed to by_janeNO@SPAMliterotica.org by deleting the capital letters before sending. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+