World of Echos Read Online Free

for that might have fucked
you over a little bit?”
                Brent
looked out across the lake in the other direction of Lucille for a long time
before answering. When he did his voice was quite but strong, sure, but smooth.
He didn't sound like someone that was trying to convince her of something. He
sounded like someone that was saying something because they thought it was
true, and not just in the sense of not being a lie, but also in the sense of it
being true in the sense of integrity of a structure, like a board running
straight and true, or the floor of a large dance hall holding true through the
tango.
                “I
think you make a good point there,” he said. “You know, I try not to be bitter.
But it's kind of like losing home all over again, you know? I don't know how
you feel about the entire thing, exactly, but in the end I came away from it
feeling cheated. My family had built such a great life for themselves and it
was all swept away in just a few short months. Just like yours did. I know my
family was lucky not to lose any figureheads, as callused as that sounds. And
we were also very, very lucky to be able to just buy tickets to an airliner
that would get us the fuck out of there. I'm so sorry that you had to stay.
Really, you have no idea.”
                Brent
wiped tears from his eyes as discretely as he could. Lucille hoped that
thinking and talking about this wasn't pushing things too far for him. She
didn't like the idea of Brent breaking down and crying full force on their
first time meeting. He was such a handsome man that tears just really didn't
seem to belong on his face at all anyway. As they walked and the bridge gently
sloped back toward the ground Brent slowly pulled himself back together.
Lucille could tell that it took an effort though; it wasn't just some easy
thing that he did, like flash his hand in front of his face quickly to change
his expression. He was a genuine person who was really having a hard time
dealing with all of the old images and memories that were most certainly being
churned up in him as they had been in herself. It was a hard thing to think
about it, something she knew well. But even though they were pretty obviously
into each other they both wanted to talk about what had happened. It was just
the nature of the wound, the nature of sharing loss so intimately with just one
person and not at all with anyone else.
                As
they walked and talked about small things like traffic and the weather Lucille
couldn't get enough of Brent's handsome features. She wanted to talk to him
more, maybe so much that it would take all night. But they didn't have all
night. It was a weeknight so when they got to their cares they stopped walking
and said their goodbyes. Or tried to. It didn't go as smoothly as either of
them would have liked.
                “Well,
I, uh. I . . .,” Brent said. “Well what I mean to say is this. I . . . I really
enjoyed myself.”
            Lucille couldn't help but
giggle at how nervous he was being. Without hesitating she got on her tip toes
and kissed him on the cheek.
                “Oh,
Brent,” she said. “My old friend. How good it has been to see you again. You
have no idea how much I've missed you all these years. When you left and went
to America, I didn't know what I was going to do. Really, I was so broken and
lost without you. Even though we were kids, and even though it wasn't love as
adults think of it now.”
                He
raised one of his hands in a gesture meant to softly silence her.
                “I
know,” he said.
                Brent
reached out and took her hand in his own.
                “Listen,
I want to meet again,” he said. “I have your number and we have each other's
emails, so we'll be in touch.”
                She
nodded, knowing that he wasn't trying to snub her by