When sparks fly

Saturday night and nowhere else I would rather be. The corner bookstore that's always empty and dimly lit. I spend time here so that my mind is quiet. My mind, it sees more than the objects in front of me. What I look at, it comes alive. The colours swirl and I see the feelings, the story attached.

Books are particularly lively. Which explains the need for a quiet bookshop. People are loud, and it's often ugly. But books, books are wonderful. I walk down the romance aisle colours jumping out around me. Pinks and reds, purples and yellows there is soft music that accompanies the colours. Symbols swirl around my mind, holding hands, smiles, rainbows, sun and stars, and so many more. Romance can be a bit overwhelming with cliches and brightness. My favourite aisle is historical fiction, the colours are more muted here. Almost like watching a black and white movie instead of colour. There is always piano music accompanying these books.

It is here where I'm reaching for a book and touch the hand of someone reaching for the same book. Sparks fly off our hands and swirl around, the music intensifies and the whole world seems to turn a sultry red. I catch my breath and the music pauses, slowly I turn to look at the owner of this hand. Unsure what will happen in my mind.

Our eyes lock, he smiles shyly at me and the whole world turns azure blue to match his eyes. It feels as though I'm drowning in the colour. My held breath leaves me in a rush and the music comes back deafening. The most delightful song I've ever heard. With difficulty, I advert my eyes and slowly the bold colours fade. He pulls the book from the shelf and offers it to me.

Afraid to lose myself in his colour again, I take the book and smile in his direction. My eyes never leaving the bookshelf in front of us. Brown and hardly any symbols or music, plain wood is a refreshing break.

When I said the romance aisle could be overwhelming I had no idea what I was in for. Is this what love looks like for me? The sultry red background? The blue I drown in when looking in his eyes?. I wonder if there is more. He is still next to me, looking at the books in front of us. Is he pretending to look for another to remain here? I look over, his eyes are safely turned away from me. Symbols begin to swirl and music massages my ears, piano and violin. My favourite combination. Colours are swirling now too, they tell me a story of vividness. The background colour is melting into my favourite shade of purple. Usually when I study people it's unsettling and uncomfortable. Colours and music I don't like. This is different. I could remain here all day, it's not overwhelming at all.

Glancing down at the book I decide to give it back to him. I want to make it known to him, I could listen to his music always. He takes the book and our fingers overlap one another. Again the sultry red floods the background, sparks fly out from our fingers. The speed of the music increases to keep up with my heartbeat. Or maybe it's matching his heartbeat. Both still holding the book, my eyes explore the story found in the depths of his. Can he see the story in mine? What colour does he see when he looks at me?

The sparks are wrapping around us, circling from head to toe. Slowly, they tighten their circles. Squeezing the space out from between us. The music increases in speed and volume, the colours around us brighten, the sparks keep circling. Closer and louder and brighter. Closer and louder and brighter. I don't think I can take much more and then our lips meet.

The music stops, the colours fade to black and fireworks light up against the black and echo against the silence.