Intensity

Friday July 5th 2013

Sewanee Young Writers Conference

Intensity

by Julia Debski

It was not musical tunes that passed through her head, but rather a melody quite unique to a writer, and to the woman on the bed. The hum of stories, worlds, and dramas rose and sunk in her mind, creating a song unique to herself.

The water shut off and soon she was no longer alone in the room, apart from the company of voices in her head and outside the window.

“Oh River, I wish you would get up. It’s almost noon, and lunch will be served.” Amanda said before dropping the towel and walking the length of the room to the dresser. River turned her head an increment of a degree to watch the goosebumps rise on the other woman’s skin. She continued to stare with a seemingly blank stare as silk slipped and curled over the ribs and thighs, wrapped up from the cold. 

“What do you think? Is this alright?” Amanda spun once, for her dress to twirl around her once. Like the ballerina she once was as a child. River’s lips slipped into a small satisfied smile. She loved that dress. It always quieted the voices gushing in her mind. As if they were as in awe of Amanda as River was. Slowly, River’s eyes drifted back up to the ceiling.

On the other side of the room, gentle clicks of lipsticks and mascaras being opened was heard. River’s dearest character hushed the others before voicing her hope for Amanda to wear her dark red lipstick, the color of over ripe cherries. The one that made her skin look pale and soft, and her green eyes dazzle. That was why this one was her favorite. It was much like River, in a sense.

Preoccupied with a discussion occurring between two creatures in their little world, River did not hear the gentle pat of bare feet approaching. Lips upon hers woke River from the trance. She hadn’t realized her eyes had fallen shut. A lazy smile bloomed on her lips, causing Amanda to pull away, amused. River cracked an eye open, and her breath caught. She raised a finger slowly to hover before her lover’s lips. Asking for permission. Amanda smiled and gave her a small nod. The finger landed on the left corner of her bottom lip, gentle. Careful not to mar the heavy color. Then it ran along the length, before traveling back again along the top one. Faded slightly now, but not noticeable. River returned the finger to her own mouth and rubbed the cherry red traces on her own lips. Then she raised herself slightly to capture Amanda’s lips between her teeth, feeling a different type of goosebumps rise on her skin at the thought of the color staining her teeth.