from her and he brought me to convey his affection to her. I am the messenger. I am his secret. I am his confidant. I am his friend that knows his deepest secret and I am the one who is going to reveal them to the one who owes to know it.
His Angel.
Tomorrow the wait ends. Mine and his and hers too. Tomorrow I will be transferred to the person who I was meant to be with. Tomorrow I will be gifted. His Angel will have me and metaphorically receive his embraces. All the times that he will say that he is hugging her, I will be hugged.
I am a token of love. I am a hug. I am a kiss. I am him. I am a story. I am love.
And tomorrow is the day he will gift me to her. Thank you for promoting me, Al.
Box Shaped Heart
I sat on the table and in the words of our mothers, caused a mess around. New joy found in wood carving and shaping, I sat on the workbench carving. Being creative has its pros and cons and one of the cons (with me that is) is that I get too creative.
"But it's a form of art. Abstract art. Attractive art. New art. It has got dimensions! It's multidimensional art!", I tried to explain to both our moms but they both looked at me as if a horn made of banana peel was growing on my head at an astounding speed.
"Just clean after yourself.", mom finally said and left the room.
And now here I am. Adding the final features. On this "thing". And exactly then I heard you say, "I am feeling a bit bored Al." From the bed. You've been trying to study in the light that came from the window but I was fixated to the chair.
"Let me lighten your mood. Riddle time.", I said and your yelp of glee said to me you liked the idea. "There is a jail, with walls four. But closer to you is he who is inside it and yours."
"Wow. How do you write these things all of a sudden? Like from thin air. Magician. My magician Al!", you say and tickle my neck from behind.
"Okay okay giving you a hint my Angel. The walls are so fragile that a single touch can leave it scarred. But still, the prisoner cannot escape.", I say and you look at me and whisper pass in my ear.
"A heart my Angel.", I say and handle you a product made after two days. "Open it and describe what you are going through."
Your hands and fingers play around the box and then the conclusions begin. "It's a box. With two doors that open and four chambers. And some sort of pipes. You've made a heart?", you ask and say no.
"A box-shaped heart my Angel.", I say. "Now a secret. Place your fingers at the point where all four meet. And now pull it up."
You do as I ask and behind it, are you. Painted on the wall of this box. The prison. The heart.
"You're my prisoner.", I say and you blush a fiery red.
"You're crazy Al.", you say and embrace me; only because you're shy at this moment.
Cafuné
"Basking in the sun is weird.", I said to you and you looked at me; amazed. You knew that another one of my weird philosophical thoughts was on the way. We were basking in the sun as the people say it. "Sun"bathing.
"If we technically are Sunbathing, what sort of bath is it? As of now, we are taking a bubble bath? And when we walk from the car to the building we take a quick shower. No no. Would it be like getting through a park with the sprinkler watering the grass and getting soaked right? Sunbathing is weird.", I said and all of you started laughing.
"Here. Let me help you.", you say and a curtain of shadow falls over me.
"Ahh. Heaven.", I say and open my eyes. There's my Angel. The sun forming a halo around you. Giving you the heavenly feature you deserve. You have lowered your hair so that I get out of the sun.
Cafuné. My favorite activity. I adore doing this.
"Cafuné.", I say it out loud and my fingers run through your hair. From the base to the end. Gently and affectionately.
"What Al?", you asked me.
"Brazilian Portuguese. It means to run one's finger through someone else's hair as a gesture of Amor.", I say and we share a secret smile.
"Your hair are horrible. You need a hair cut.", mom says and goes back to the shower momentarily.
"What! No! Why? I mean she's healthy and happy with her hair, why cut it?", I ask.
"Who'll do the hair care? And who will manage them so long?", mom says and I look at you smiling at me. You knew the answer.
"If she wants to keep the long hair I will care. And why are we discussing it? Her hair. Her desire.", I said and entered back into the heaven.
"Don't tease Al, mom.", you say and you both start laughing.
"By the way.", I whispered to you. "I think you'd look cute with short hair."
A Busy Day
"Open your mouth, Angel. This is the last morsel I promise. Last one. Just last. That's my good wife. Thank you for eating Angel.", I said as I fed you the apparent last morsel with my hands.
The doors to your eyes are closing against your will but if I will ask you are you sleepy, being my persistent and stubborn wife, you'll say "No Al. I am not sleepy. Not at all!"
I walk over to you and engage you in conversation. "Today I painted the skyline of a city by the shore. Foggy and invisible mostly. Just a faint outline in greyscale.", I said as I tugged at your shoe laces.
"Wow. My talented Al. Show me, show me!", you say not realizing I took your shoes off.
"Yes, my Angel. Look at the canvas behind me. Just beside the stool. It's on the paperboard still.", I say as I slowly slip off your socks too.
"Wow. It's beautiful Al. Really. I love it.", you say as you admire it.
I push you gently at the waist so that your head is on the pillow. I bring my face in front of you as I place the blanket over you and look into your bloodshot eyes. "And me?", I say.
Your fingers run through the front of my hair and fix them. Continuing that motion your palms rest on both my cheeks. "I love you the most my crazy Al."
"I love you too my darling Angel.", I say and get myself back on the chair.
"My Angel had a long day at work so no talk of Angel's work today. Today I will tell you what I wrote in the ongoing novel.", I said and looked at you.
Your eyes were closed but you were still awake. You opened your eyes with an effort and say yes to me and your eyelids again lose the battle against sleep.
"Earlier I thought about what to do with the hero. He is naive and funny to balance the serious and philosophical heroine. But it would get too extreme in the same story no? So I thought let's do something new. I then added a new character to be their friend so that they can both be overlooked at.", I provide you knowledge of mumbo jumbo and look at you and sure enough, you're asleep.
A smile dances on my lips and I stand up from the stool quietly. I turn off the lights and tiptoe myself beside you. I rest my head on your clavicle and embrace you. "My beautiful Angel had a long day today at work. I love you.", I said as I continued to tell you what happened after the new character entered the story.
So Uncivil Of Us!
"So now are we supposed to whisk everything till it all mixes properly?", I asked you and received an affirmative hmm in reply which made my hands whisk it vigorously.
Chocolate pudding. A boon or a curse? I burnt it the first time I made it and it was probably the only time when a sweet got me closer to sadness than happiness. Even then my ears were greeted with, "Al. It is still the best in the world. 60% mine."
I asked you by what measure? I cooked it, I burnt it and I spoilt it. My 60% and your 40%. And the negotiation finally stopped at 55-45. That is me and my Angel for me. Negotiating the others benefit.
Some things make us partial thought. Like this first burnt chocolate pudding.
"I mixed it all good, Angel.", I reported to you as you were behind my back and instructing from the book. "Now to add the chocolate?"
Again and affirmative hmm greeted my ears. I started my search for the chocolate shavings. And nothing. I checked the top again and nothing. I checked the fridge and nothing again. Perplexed I asked you, "You've seen the chocolate shavings somewhere baba?"
Hmm.
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"Thank God. Where is it?", I asked and heard another hmm. Fishy. Something is really very fish.
"Bony structure that danced to the tune of Mozart as periodic table grew in 1887 as the Rockets beat Manchester United in a match of eye stare. Correct?"
Hmm.
We are in the sea with lots of fish brother. Everything is fishy. It is a school of fish! I look at you and you're holding the book in front of your face and your left hand is invisible behind the book too. Guilty guilty!
I slowly creep up and glance from above the top of the book to find the bowl of chocolate in your hand and your mouth munching. Reading the book intently. Cute kiddo. My wife eats directly and doesn't use a spoon and this action has smeared some up on her chin too. As I smile to this cute sight of you, you grin sheepishly at me.
"Where's my share partner?", I asked and you smiled and said, "Stock finished partner."
I placed my hand in my pocket and slowly and dramatically brought out an elaborate spoon with an ornate design on it. "Not the spoon Aaaaaaal.", you said and ran away as I following you saying "It's either the spoon or I will use my lips to wipe the chocolate, Ange!"
We didn't realize that day dear. We forgot about the pudding completely!
Snatch
"Angel, you think we should move this white teddy...", I was saying but you interrupt me.
"His name is Flake.", you say and snatch it from me.
"Okay baby.", I say smiling. "Flake should sit on the glass case in the drawing room?"
"No. Only with me. Only with me.", you say snuggling yourself closer to the soft toy.
"And him? What's his name?", I asked you fishing out the black one from