Magpie Tales: My First

Since this is my first attempt at Magpie Tales, I thought it fitting to do a piece called, My First. I hope you enjoy this little shorty for Magpie Tales.

The reddish, brown leaves scream to me like popcorn popping under the heat, as I casually walk my familiar path. My secret place in the forest has been a dear friend of mine since, well, since I can’t remember, really.

I can’t help but feel a little melancholy today. It is days like this I miss her most, my first. She slowly fades from the cobwebs of my mind, and I have to force myself to remember. Sure, there have been many others since, but none that captured my heart, my attentions like her.

I never knew her name, only her beauty. Her dress was as red as fresh chili peppers, and twice as hot. Her chestnut hair flowed shoulder length, intoxicating my senses each time I buried my face in it for a deep inhalation. Oh how I miss that sweet smell of my first.

I wonder if she remembers me too. How could she not? It really doesn’t matter much; the only thing that matters is I must recapture the feelings from my first. Sometimes I can’t help but laugh, while covered in sadness, and think how differently my life would have turned out if she were never my first.

Would I be the same man? Would there have been the others? My mind wonders, like a lost creature in the forest. But I know where I’m going. I’m headed to my secret place in the forest. While there, I’m sheltered and protected from my spying memories of others. Only she is allowed to dance with my reflections in my secret place.

As I round the last bend, I almost stumble on a root that has formed a large hump in the damp soil. This brings a smile, born from a similar incident with my first. The way she tripped, at almost the exact spot. I find myself replaying it, as my heart races faster in tempo with each remaining step.

I spy the water can, my marker, and my heart attempts to jump out of my mouth like a feisty bull frog. My melancholy is swept away like dust under the pummeling of a thunderstorm; excitement and adrenaline now chase each other as I approach the spot of my first.

My First

The only thing that matters is we are together again.

As I begin clearing the area, the knots in my stomach climaxes into excitement bursting through my chest. I can remember everything about my first now. She doesn’t look or smell the same, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is we are together again.

As the earth spits forward the remains of my first, I am at peace once again.

This is a Magpie Tale

Tagged as: Magpie Tales