Capturing Connie

Connie 4.5

We sit down at the table and I have to shake my head quickly, biting down on my lips.

I'm feeling brave despite the car ride, the wetness accumulating on my thighs and the alcohol in my system. I lied when I said I had a business meeting. What I was really doing was drinking a few swigs from the bottle of wine in the bottom drawer of my desk.

In reality, I probably drank more than I should have, but I knew I wouldn't be able to relax if I didn't. And now I was watching Steven lick his lips slowly and reach under the table. I spread my legs and he smiled viciously at me. I let out a shuddering breath and...

He pulled out a briefcase. I was imagining things. I knew it wasn't happening but it felt so real that for a moment, I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying a dirty word.

'Get it together Connie.'

"The file." He said, pulling a manilla envelope out of it and handing it to me.

Our fingers touch and we hold it for awhile before I set my jaw and take it from him, taking out the pictures.

"I hope you like it," He adds as he clasps his hands together. He seems shaky and uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

I open the envelope and immediately my breath is taken away.

The first picture is a young woman, silhouetted against the edge of a cliff overlooking a lush valley. Her hair falls over her shoulders in large ringlets and her stomach is placed on her swollen abdomen. She's clearly with child and going to burst any day now. I find my heart swelling as I place the first behind the stack and look at the next.

Another shows a lion, standing at the front of what seems to be a battle and roaring with such force, my ears feel as if they can hear it. The battle ground is covered in shining debris, weaponry and dead or dying strawberry bushes. The sky seems broken and in the very corner of the picture, there's a light that seems to be fading, and not growing. Whatever won this battle was retreating after a total massacre. I have to do a double take, because the lion is pink. I stare at the picture hard, shocked that the detail and intensity of it distracted me from the oddness.

Number three is a single rose on the edge of a balcony railing. The picture is taken from the side, so the sky is visible with every star there ever was shining. There's drops of liquid on the rose petals and the longer I look at it, the more melancholy I become. I realize with a start that the droplets are most likely tears.

Four grabs my attention before I can even see the entire picture. The edges are black and dark maroon colored. A dusty pink colored bubble holds a gemstone and it floats in mid-air. Impossibly so. Its a beautiful stone though, rainbow colored and descending into itself like a staircase. The casing makes the colors look duller and yet mysterious at the same time. The stone is so carefully detailed, with every minor indentation and pigmentation that I can't help but run my finger over the ridges of the gem. "It's gorgeous."

I don't look up at Steven, and he doesn't respond. I flip to the next picture.

I don't remember what number I'm on, but I find myself anticipating each one more and more. These pictures tell a story. A story that I want to be a part of and it makes me throat tighten with longing.

The next picture has me gasping out loud. There's three large, perfectly cut diamonds. One blue, one yellow and one that's purely white and clear. The clear one is the biggest, followed by yellow and blue. Its hard to tell the size difference though because each gem is shattered entirely. The blue and yellow shards mix into each other the slightest, as if they had been near when they were destroyed. Perhaps they were crushed together. The white diamond isn't ruined as badly as the others though. The colored diamonds almost seem to have been broken on accident, like shattered vases that were dropped by a child. But the clear one is cut in half so perfectly that there's no way it was an accident. The pieces are symmetrical and the inside smooth.