People vibrate at different frequencies, I’ve decided, but the frequencies shift. Within a certain range, those frequencies can be beautiful together, notes of a chord, completing and complementing one another.
The night we met, a chance encounter, the kind with which romance novels and romantic comedy films begin, we were on the same frequency, whether by the phases of the moon, the alignment of the planets, the pollen in the air, or mere happenstance. We leaned together, a clandestine meeting, one that shouldn’t have happened where it did. We exchanged phone numbers in hurried whispers, looking over our shoulders, beaming, embarrassed, giggling, and thanking our good fortune, praying no one would notice, no one would interrupt. We parted ways reluctantly. We wouldn’t have done if the situation hadn’t been against us, if I wouldn’t have gotten in trouble for remaining together with you in the corner, our backs to the world, and our faces to one another.
A few text messages later, we met at an outdoor café, recognized one another easily, blessed the good day, sipped iced tea.
And realized that we had everything and nothing to talk about.
Nothing was wrong with the day. Nothing was wrong with the conversation.
But the frequencies of our spirits had shifted. Now we couldn’t hear one another, were outside one another’s ranges, and the only warmth was the sunshine on one of the first true days of spring.
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Gwen yesterday stole the first line of this story to write one of her own. Check it out on her blog, Apprentice, Never Master! Links to all of the Legal Theft pieces from our group can also be found on Gwen’s blog.
Dragon Bite Books 
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