Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
The music was practically vibrating his entire house as he reached for the soap and started bathing. When he was finished shampooing his hair and rinsing off, he snatched a fluffy white towel from the rack and dried off. He used his mouthwash, brushed his teeth, and made his way into the bedroom. He turned on the nightstand lamp and put on a pair of black pajama pants.
He went to his kitchen and grabbed an apple from a bowl on the counter, on the way to his home office. The room was sparsely decorated—an old black metal desk, antique lamp, a few pieces of baseball and football memorabilia, stamps and envelopes for sending mail, and a box of pens and pencils.
‘I’m Ready,’ by Kano, now burst from Nadia’s CD. Sitting at his desk, he took a deep breath, then pulled out a slightly crushed shoebox out of one of the desk drawers. Inside was a layer of dark purple velvet material which protected the items inside. Cherished old photos, a half-empty bottle of perfume in a satchel, and miscellaneous items he’d kept forever. He pulled a handful of the photographs out, reverently holding the corners of yellowed pictures, tracing them as he sorted through the pile, one by one. Pausing, he gripped one in particular a little tighter, and put down the others. He smiled.
It was his mother giving him a big kiss on the cheek. He looked to be about twelve in the photo. He had shoulder length dark hair, sun-kissed skin, and innocence still in his bright gray eyes. He brought the picture closer, and his vision blurred as moisture filled his eyes. I miss you, Mom. With a trembling hand, he transported the photo to his mouth, kissed his mother’s image, then set it back inside of the box. He turned down the music and picked up his phone.
“Thank you for calling Poppy Florist Shop. This is Selma, how can I help you?”
“Yeah, hey, Selma. I’ve never ordered from you guys, but I did a quick search on my phone and saw that you are still open tonight. I know this stuff is usually done online, and I know it’s raining hard tonight, but uh, I wanted to speak to a live person because timing is important right now.”
“Okay, sir, well, what can I help you with?”
“I want to know if there’s any way humanly possible you can deliver some flowers to a special lady in the next hour or two? I want it done ASAP. I’ll pay double…”
Nadia hated storms. She didn’t mind so much if she were indoors, or simply caught in the rain while walking, protected under the safety of an umbrella, but driving in one, especially in heavy traffic at high speeds, made her muscles tense and filled her with fear. One of the few things in the world she avoided. She was glad to be safely home tonight.
In that moment, she relived the experience of her car swerving, then fishtailing until she was spun around and flipping three times—the roof on the ground, and blood trickling down her face. That had been a long time ago, but it wasn’t the only bad thing that had happened during a bad downpour.
She’d had another situation transpire, one that her mother, grandmother, and absolutely nobody knew anything about, and there was no point in discussing it because it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Shoving the memory out of her mind, she put the rest of her fresh fruit and vegetables away. She hadn’t been home long from the grocery store, and was completely exhausted for some reason. Funny how when she’d take an occasional vacation day from work, she felt more sluggish than ever. Earlier in the day, she’d gone through her storage locker where she kept some of her furniture, to try and find a few things she needed for her apartment—to no avail.
Mountains of boxes were crammed in the space, some of them she’d left unlabeled to her regret, in her haste to get the hell out of Atlanta. Now, sorting through the mess seemed overwhelming. Her move from Georgia back to Texas had proved more than she’d bargained for, but all in all, it felt good to be back home. The only problem with being here though was that nightmares had a way of chasing you wherever you went, regardless of whether you were fast asleep or wide awake. She looked outside her living room window and shook her head.
It had been raining practically nonstop for two days straight. At almost seven in the evening, it looked as if it were midnight. She turned on the television and sat back, a smile forming on her face. Not because of the cheesy Tubi movie on the screen but because of… Lennox. He popped into her mind often, more than she’d ever be willing to admit to him.