Its my first time, but please...don't go easy on me..
The sounds of the light rain shower were evident to those who had awakened at that early hour or to those who’d never fallen asleep. There was no breeze, the only signs of movement were created from force of gravity as water fell from the sky, cleansing everything in its path. The streets would dry quickly, and by mid-morning a good majority of the city would never even know that it had rained. Camille Dowling sat staring at the television barely noticing the images on the screen. It was perfect, she thought, the dark; slickness of the morning matched her mood. She was tired, her eyes were glossy, the lids irritated. She stood up, stretched and walked over to her bedroom mirror and tried to smile, but did not recognize the person staring back her.
Angry with herself, Camille turned away and walked over to the bay windows of her upscale town home. It was clear, even as it rained, that it was going to be a sweltering day. Anyone who’d lived in Houston, even for any amount of time knew that the city was famous for its weather, and its reputation for changing every hour. Camille stared at the young magnolia trees that lined the street of her small complex and made a note to schedule maintenance for her front yard the next week. It was strange how her life had become a series of mental post it’s, completely lacking in spontaneity. Call about this, schedule that. Don’t forget to pay this bill or that one. Break up with Darryl…cause he aint shit.
Camille had spent a good portion of the morning agonizing over her relationship with Darryl Collins. Even though he was only 28 years old, Darryl was apparently suffering from, Senility or some early signs of Alzheimer’s disease. Camille had witnessed his failing memory the night before as she watched him approach another woman at a local bar. Darryl had conveniently forgotten that he was supposed to be in a committed relationship with Camille. She had shown up at Al’s to surprise him, knowing that the pool hall was his favorite hang out during the week. The surprise was hers when she found him at a booth with the neighborhood hoe.
Camille knew that he wasn’t worth the tears that she had shed; so, she cried more so for what could have been. Darryl wasn’t the right man for her. She had known that from the beginning. Truthfully, he wasn’t her type at all. He was around 5’9, small build, long dread locs and huge ego. But when they met, he said all of the right things and came at her like a gentleman, so she overlooked the lack of immediate attraction. Her biological clock was ticking and Darryl had been the means to end Camille’s loneliness and create the kind of family she’d always longed for. He was reason to make her forget the past, and create a future where she could control her own destiny. The idea, Camille thought was laughable. No one controlled his or her own destiny.
Wiping her eyes and nose with the back of her hand, she grimaced as she noticed smudges of mucus and tears. Biting down on her bottom lip, she contemplated calling in sick. Ultimately, she’d decide against that too. She had received a final reprimand earlier in the month for taking off with out notice and couldn’t afford to be tardy or absent again. Camille hated her job as telephone customer services representative, but it earned her a decent paycheck that along with a somewhat unconventional part-time job, allowed her to live comfortably. She resented having to make a living inside of a drab colorless office and wished for the freedom that working in a call center did not provide. If she could have had her way, she would have gone to Art school and traveled the world as a freelance photographer, possibly working for National Geographic or Time magazine. But as it seemed, that dream would have to be deferred.
Camille jumped in the shower hoping that the heat and steam would help with loosen the tense muscles in her shoulder and neck. Her shower was five minutes longer than it should have been because she was determined to be on time for work. Camille stood in front of her bathroom mirror critiquing her 5’2, 140 lb frame. She figured that she could definitely stand to lose 5 or 10 lbs but knew that she wouldn’t because liked her curves and even more so, she liked to eat. Her naturally curly hair was shoulder length and had a tendency to frizz in humid weather but the style suited her. She thought that her almond shaped eyes were her best feature but lamented that her light complexion did nothing to hide the smattering of freckles across her nose. She stuck her tongue out and smiled, reminding her that self-criticism was not a healthy way to start her day. Grateful that is was a casual day at work; Camille dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans recycled from an unwashed clothes pile. Eyeing two other baskets of clothes, she made another mental note to finish her laundry that evening.
She glanced at her watch and realized that breakfast at home was not an option; she would have to nibble on something at work. She grabbed her keys, purse and cell phone and walked to her car. As she backed out of the driveway she sighed heavily, realizing that her day wouldn’t be productive until she handled the problem of Darryl. Camille scrolled through the contact list on her cell phone, and dialed Darryl’s number. It rang four times before he answered. She had decided to make the confrontation as short as possible, wanting the conversation to last only for the amount of time it took her to drive to work. And since her job was around the corner from her home, five minutes was all she needed.