Six Months

[Guest]

42 years old and I've got 6 months to live. I staggered to the bench just outside my doctor's office. Worked like a dog my whole life. I shook my head in disgust. Entered the rat race at 18 and convinced myself to give up everything to win. Fun, pleasure, adventure, everything was put on hold for the earning of the all-mighty dollar. I looked at the people passing by and shook my head.
Without warning tears sprang to my eyes and I buried my face in my hands. At 30, I had made my first million, by 40 I had entered the elite rank of multi-millionare. Self-made man who had pulled himself up from nothing and for what? Even if I were to spend a million dollars a day for the rest of my life, for the whole pathetically short 6 months, I wouldn't even make a dent in my fortune. And how would I even go about spending close to that kind of money. Didn't know how to relax! Didn't know how to have fun! God, wasn't now the time to start?!

But I didn't even know where to begin until you walked up...

 

[Tornado]

Shit! I created this thread. Don't look at me like that. I'm new at this.

 

[intriguess]

Mickie

I was walking down the street breezing by as people rushed and hurried, I had scrimped so I could enjoy life and all it had to offer. Of course there were things I'd never have money to try, like skydiving or scuba lessons. I always said maybe when I retired I could manage to fit in some of those things. I worked as an artist, which in plain English meant I sold what I could while I did what I loved. I had my camera slung around my neck, when I spotted an older man looking very melancholy. I found myself intrigued and snapped a few shots before approaching him.

"Hello," my soft warm voice seemed to break through to him, and I offered my hand. The skin golden from days spent in the sun. My simple dress a little threadworn but comfortable, my breasts bare underneath as I'd given up under clothes to pay for a set of oil paints. My shoes probably looked worse for wear as I watched his eyes move from them up to my face. Round, with green brown eyes set above a cute nose smattered with freckles. My soft brown hair sort of drifted about my head creating a halo effect, especially when the sun shown through. "Hello?" I asked this time suddenly uncertain if he could hear me.

 

[Guest]

I heard a sound that sounded like the clicking of a camara. Not bothering to look up, wanting to hide myself from the world, I saw someone in cheap shoes approach. Cheap and warn. A woman's voice said, "Hello." I tried to ignore her, but she said it again. Impatient, I started to say, "Sorry, I haven't got any lose change," but I stopped before getting even the first word out. I had glanced up and was looking into the sweetest face I could ever recall seeing.

Confident and powerful as almost 25 years on Wall Street could make a man, I nevertheless found myself speechless. I just stared up into the loviest face for what seemed like an eternity. Enchanted, I let the moments slip by before I found my voice.

"Hello, my dear. Won't you sit down." I got to my feet as an afterthought, an attempt to be chivelrous, I suppose. "A gentleman always stands until a lady seats herself," my mother had tried to teach me. Funny, it had never seemed important until now.

The beguiling creature took my offer and I sat down next to her. I noticed for the first time that she had a camara around her neck. Intrigued, I asked if she had been taking pictures of me.

 

[Tornado]

Ahhhhhh!

That was me.

 

[intriguess]

Misty

"You caught me," I smile as he offered me a seat. I took it and smiled up at him, he had this careworn look upon his face as someone who has been told too much bad news in too little time. "I just noticed how emotional your posture was. I was trying to capture that moment via my lens." I touch the camera lovingly. It had been a graduation gift and I'd been hard pressed at times to not pawn it. I notice how formally he's dressed, his clothing impecable, shoes shined. Looking as if he had all the money in the world. I told myself to not think of such nonsense as I patted the seat next to mine and invited him to sit back down next to me. I felt the warmth of his body through his clothing as he sat down.

 

[Tornado]

I was surprised. Most of my acquaintances would not have noticed or cared if I looked upset. I could not help but be intrigued by this young woman. I didn't even know her name yet I knew she was perceptive, intelligent, and caring.

"You noticed. I've just gotten some rather bad news," I said looking into her beautiful eyes and saw a gentle questioning look. "I'd rather not talk about it if you don't mind." And I didn't - not because I was afraid to open up to her, but because I did not want to darken this magic of meeting the woman.

"I have not introduced myself. My name is Conrad Phillips and I would very much like to know your name."

 

[Guest]

Magdellina

I smile seeing the sadness tinging his eyes, I long to caress his cheek and take away his sadness, "My name is Magdellina, named after Mary of Magdeline." I pause and turn towards him watching his eyes. "Can you do anything about the bad news? otherwise you need to accept it and move on. Too many people spend time trying to change the unchangeable or fixing the unfixable." I take slow breaths feeling oddly aware of my body in his presence, how the fabric brushes my skin, how my nipples are crinkling, how my bare legs feel the slight breeze, even how my toes feel in my shoes. There is something tragic in his voice, that I opt to leave alone. His hair is face is etched with lines of stress, I find myself wanting to erase them. "I was actually heading to the florist's to pick something up. Would you like to join me?" I blink as an image of him joining with me flashes in my head and I hoped I didn't blush as the image fades.

 

[Tornado]

The understanding in Magdellina's face and words hit me like a bolt of benevolent lightening.

"Magdellina. An unusual name for an exceptional young woman. I'd love to go with you to the florist, but unfortunately I need to return to work."

Her smile was as lovely as her nature. "I hope you find whatever makes you happy then," and she stood up to leave.

"Wait!" I stood up too, pulling out my cell as I did so. "If you will excuse me for just a moment," I said to her before punching in a series of numbers.

"Hello, Joyce? Mr. Phillips. Cancel all my appointments for today and that meeting with the Germans... Cancel that too. If fact, Joyce, consider me on a extended vacation starting today. What? Let Hastings handle that. That will be all, Joyce." I ended the conversation and turned to Magdellina.

"I've suddenly become free." In more ways that one. I offered her my arm and enjoyed the thrill of walking some place while my driver trailed behind at a discreet distance.

 

[intriguess]

Magdellina

I watch as he is transformed and with a smile I take his hand instead. It was a short walk but to most we probably looked like a pair of mismatched lovers. Lovers, I found myself thinking about it more and more as his hand held mine, imagining the warm soft palm lingering in other places. I shake my head and smile as I mention that this is the place and he opens the door for me. I brush past him as I walk in the door inhaling the scent of a multitude of flowers.

The florist a wacky looking redhead mutters something and upon seeing me flashes a smile and says she has something in the back for me. I watch him wander through the store, looking as if he'd never really seen a flower before.

I move to counter as she brings out a wilted orchid plant says something about her black thumb and says that it needed my helping hand. I take the potted plant along with a bouquet of day old flowers and glancing down, I notice a perfect peach colored miniature rose bud. I snap it off and moving back towards him I put the flower in his lapel.

"I need to get these in some water, my studio isn't far away. Then we can get somthing to eat, I'm ravenous." I don't know what caused me to assume we were spending day together but the look on his face said he didn't know why either. It was comforting and bewildering all at the same time.

 

[Tornado]

The gesture made me smile. The little flower was heartbreaking in its sweetness. No, it was this young woman who was.

Magdellina

I could not understand her joy in buying past-their-prime flowers or in reviving a sickly orchid, but I wanted to. She seemed to have such a caring heart, willing to shower love on things that others would overlook. Her invitation made me think, no hope, that maybe she wanted to do the same for me.

"I am hungry," I said, trying to make the statement not sound like the double entendre of a dirty, old man.

"Your invitation is eagerly accepted, Magdellina." I enjoyed the way her name flowed off my tongue.

"Would you like me to carry those?" I asked like a schoolboy.

 

[intriguess]

Magdellina

I smile as he offers to carry the flowers, I hand him the odd bunch of day olds and take the potted plant to myself. As we walk to my studio loft I find myself talking about how the orchid was worth more than I'd probably see in a month or more and I used my talent to revive plants for the florist and in return she lets me have older stock for free. I don't think it's odd that we talking of flowers but he I can see the question in his eyes of what I do with the flowers.

We turn a corner and suddenly my studio looms into view an old brick building whose purpose has long been lost, the front is painted to look as if flowers are falling off the top of building. I unlock the door and step in. The place is surprisely light and open for a brick building. I put the orchid in the warmest spot and fetch a vase, while warning him to be careful where he steps as my paints tend to travel. Everywhere one looks there are canvas's and paints and sketches and color studies.

I return with several vases filled with water and continue my chatter as I take a few flowers shifting and arranging them in different vases.

I wipe my damp fingers on my dress unaware that it now clings to my hips.

"So, food, do you like Italian? I know this great little cafe down the way."

 

[Tornado]

"So, food, do you like Italian? I know this great little cafe down the way."

It was a long while before I could answer Magdellina's question. She moved so easily, with such grace, around her studio and I was caught in a trance as I watched her. The soft light of the room illuminated her skin, giving her a luminescence. I watched the lines of her body as she placed the flowers in a vase of water. They were no doubt to be used for her art. It was hard to drag my eyes away from her, but the paintings and sketches captured the imagination. At first glance, they seemed a softer, more feminine version of Van Gogh's florals.

"Food, yes. Let me take care of that if I may." I spoke into my cell phone, turning away so that Magdellina would not be able to hear my conversation. I hung up and thrust the phone back in my pocket.

"It should be here shortly," I said with a secretive smile.

"These are amazing, by the way." I said walking around to get a closer look at some of the paintings. "It's not a stretch to say that you could have the impact of Georgia O' Keefe with these studies. In what gallery, do you show?"

 

[intriguess]

Magdellina

"Show?" The word is almost quizical as if I didn't quite understand what he was asking. "I don't sell these, I'm a muralist. You know painting walls, children's wings of hospitals, entree ways, old train stations, restaurants, that sort of thing. These," my arm gestures to the array of canvases some close to 8 feet square and a few that are 12 x 18 inches, "are for fun. A few are studies." I weave through the mess of paintings and drawings and pick out a 24 x 26 inch canvas. "This is my last commision, it's a ballroom in a hotel downtown." I hand it to you so you can see the lush greenery painted into the walls. "They wanted the ambience of flowers without the trouble." I search a while longer and pull out a sketchbook and rapidly flip through it. "Here's what I did for the ceiling. After painting a ceiling I can see why Michaelangelo felt so inspired by the challenge." The picture is a rough color sketch of blooming vines. "Of course at night the chandeliers really make it look dazzling." I watch as he flips through the sketches until he reaches a blank page. I hold my breath as he turns to the next page. It was a simple study of a woman draped in gauzy skirt, her face turned away hair blowing in an unseen breeze. A tropical flower resting amid the dark tangles of her hair. I almost take the book from him but instead say, "After the job is done I go ahead and fill the rest of the sketch book up with figure studies." I find my fingers running through my hair realizing what a tangled mess it is and that he's having food brought here.

I step away scanning for where I've hidden my table. Spotting it I quickly clear it off and take a piece of thin canvas I'd been practicing printing on and cover the well worn surface.

"Chairs," I mutter out loud trying to find two sturdy chairs that aren't covered in something. I shuffle stuff about watching him meander through the maze of paintings and drawings. I finally find two chairs when a knock on the door is heard.