The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(95)
“There is something special about you Stella, and I want to get to know you better. I’ve only know you for one day, but I find myself thinking of the next thing to do to make you smile. I now live to see that smile.” He softly cups his hand behind my head and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s a soft and tender kiss. I reach my arms up and wrap them around his neck, silently begging him to come closer. I pour myself into this one kiss. I want him to know that he saved me, that he makes me feel special, that he is healing me. How can someone I barely know already mean so much to me? I slowly pull away from him and rest my forehead against his. I see a subtle movement out of the corner of my eye, and as I pull away from River to see what it is, I gasp in shock. Sitting all over our blanket, and flying above our heads are dozens of beautiful butterflies.
I slowly lean my head back and stretch my arms out. Butterflies land in my open palms, and I start to cry and laugh all at the same time. River is watching me with a smile on his face, and this time the smile reaches his eyes.
I believe that butterflies symbolize a new life and a new beginning. This isn’t a coincidence that all these butterflies are around us right now. I open my eyes and look towards the sky. A ray of sunshine is peaking through the clouds, shining right down onto River and I. I know without a doubt my dad is looking down on me with a smile. I can almost hear him telling me to take that leap of faith and jump off the swing, but instead of saving the world, this time I’ll be saving myself.
*
Holli Spaulding is a writer, mother, Coast Guard military wife, nerf gun ninja, Guns and Roses addict, and an avid reader. She resides in the beautiful state of Hawaii with her husband and four kids. When she isn’t writing or being a mother, she enjoys lying on the beach and relaxing with her latest book find. Be on the lookout for her first novel, Alive, coming soon.
*
The Gift of Gab
Sharon Delarose
George, a mediocre insurance salesman, was desperate to land a big account that he’d been assigned to go after. This was do or die. If he failed, he’d lose this job as he’d lost so many others, so he hatched a radical plan. He’d travel to Ireland, kiss the Blarney Stone, and be blessed with the Gift of Gab. Then he’d be a Blarney Certified Professional Salesman. With the money and prestige that the gift promised, he’d be all set to propose to his girlfriend, Rose.
Without telling anyone, George drove 531 miles from London, England, to County Cork, Ireland, which took him over the Irish Sea on a three-and-a-half hour ferry trip. He envisioned the stone itself to be a giant boulder in the middle of a field. After all, it was called the Blarney Stone, so he expected a hunk of rock. The Blarney Stone, as it turned out, was actually a stone set high up in the outer wall of Blarney Castle, and the waiting line to kiss it stretched for a mile outside.
He waited with a thousand others who hoped to rise above their mediocrity, and when his turn came, he paid the fee and entered the hallowed halls, where he was whisked into a room out of sight of those still waiting. The walls were plastered with photos of the Blarney blessed: Laurel and Hardy, Winston Churchill, and even Mick Jagger.
“It’s decision time, laddie! What sort of kiss are ya going to plant on old stoney? Are you going to give her a modern Pop Kiss, or follow the ancient tradition with a Medieval Kiss? We need to know how to prep you.”
“How to prep me? What do I get with a Medieval Kiss, a red rose or something?”
“Or something...” the doorman chuckled.
“Ah, what the heck. I’ve traveled all this way, I might as well go big. Let’s plant a juicy Medieval Kiss on her!”
The doorman slid a piece of paper across the table, “Okay then, a Medieval Kiss it is. Sign here, please.”
George frowned. It was a consent form releasing Blarney Castle in case he came to any harm. “Would I have to sign this for a Pop Kiss?”
“Look laddie, you’re kissing a stone high up in the wall of a ninety foot castle. You saw how many people come through here. We’re just protecting ourselves from daredevils and suicide missions.”
“I’m not here to jump off the edge. I’m just looking to get blessed with the Gift of Gab, no craziness here.”
George signed the waiver, and was given a red rose for his buttonhole. It was a good omen, as he was doing this for his beloved girlfriend, Rose. Then he joined the line inside, which wound all the way up the spiral stairs. Slowly he ascended the steep, narrow steps, giving him the opportunity to look out over the surrounding countryside from the windows.
Finally, he arrived at the top of Blarney Castle, with only a woman in front of him. An older gentleman took the woman’s hand and asked, “Are you ready to kiss the Blarney Stone? Here we call it the ‘Stone of Eloquence’.”
“Yes!”
He laid her on a lounge chair face up, and instructed her to scoot through the hole in the side of the castle wall, into an iron-barred basket. The stone was across a gap in a parallel wall, and all she had to do was raise her head up, and kiss the underside. Every precaution had been taken to keep it safe and simple, and George wondered why a man on his way out had warned, “Don’t go up there! They’ll try to kill you! It’s not worth it… don’t go!” The man must have been afraid of heights.
George’s big moment arrived. The old man took one look at the red rose, and hollered, “Brutus! We’ve got a casket case! You’d better get over here!”