A 21st Century Love Story Scene IV

21st Century Love . . . Andy & Aria’s [Scene IV.]

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https://allpoetry.com/story/13442585-21st-Century-Love-.-.-.-Andy—Arias-Scene-III.-by-Lucretia-Mccloud

Scene IV. Andy in his cell fast asleep on his feet dreaming of his previous tranquil life

outside of jail.

Narrator: “The shrewd one sees the danger and conceals himself, but the inexperienced keep right on going and suffer the consequences.”—Prov. 22:3.

Andy knew these words from an ancient Proverb many times heard. Grew up with them.

Yes… Considered by many: an intelligent nerd.

But to this proverb he now thorough witness bears; so utterly true; his agonizing despair due to current catastrophic circumstances spiraling his 6 by 8 feet world.

Funneled, his thoughts, into this black hole of devastation profoundly new.

Let’s watch what now happens…

Andy unexpectedly views Aria gliding before him beautifully clad in a dress fiery red in hue. He grips the bars watching like esurient wolves do. Not unlike the youthful thundering brood crowding the auditorium’s stage galvanized by Aria’s seductive movements, Andy’s vision in review.

The crew enraptured as moths to a midnight’s flickering flame eager to singe their quivering wings fatefully too.

Andy: Spitfire then ice.
No virtue. Just vice. Aria.

I remember that dance–no sweetness.
Just spices…

Delicious… delicious!

Narrator: Andy recalls his adolescent dreams on his bed. His every night wishes.

Andy follows her performance with his heart, mind, his eyes. As a young man he learned her ways. Then he threw in his righteous dice.

Andy: She whirled; she twirled. Flicked her eyes wondrously towards me.

O’ so nice!… Her form setting me free to burst forth and fly through earth’s galaxies in sweet exquisite explosive delight!

Narrator: Andy’s reveries: every instance in which he saw her. His senses plucked like vibrating strings of a guitarist unleased in a heavy metal band’s frenzied final last stream.

Supplied upon idyllic demand Andy begins to sweat. To salivate. Pace his tiny cubicle. A simple twitching in his jaw. A greedy hunger to his gait.

Agitated, although still asleep, like any confined mice spinning their wheels. Craving an unlocked cage door to attain the cheese at whatever the price.

Their mind racing to obstacles overcome in compliance of free-will.

Then tears begin from his eyes to spill when Aria disappears from his gaze as at the end of a romance movie’s reel.

Andy’s face loses its tension.

He glances around the cell as if of another period of time. Another horrified alien dimension.

He retrieves Aria’s letter from the floor. Thinks of all parental guidelines given him before.

Returns to his cot.
Picks a few irritating bugs, lice.

Places his head in quivering hands.

Andy: I was naïve.

Raised to be honorable.

To always think twice.

He begins to again read Aria’s last loving advice. . . TO BE CONT’D

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