Felicity

prelude

     February 23, 1993

"When do you think she'll come back?" 

  Lennon had asked, his voice drew to a quiet halt. They sat on the third step of the cold, rigid stairs in front of the apartment door, facing the car packed streets. He watched as Cooper plucked the cigarette off his lips sticking it in between his fingers then drawing it back. He took a deep breath, then let out the poisoned air he had just inhaled.

"Never," Cooper muttered. 

"Lennon, you know that girl ain't never coming back." 

    The white smoke from Cooper's mouth dissipated into the air, the bitter metallic odor plastering itself on their faces as the wind softly, yet forcefully blew.

     Cooper was one of those people who never showed the slightest of interest or attention in anyone or anything. But maybe the idea of Felicity leaving was always floating around in his head- just like  Lennon. Maybe he missed Felicity just as much as Lennon. But at times, it was hard to tell.

Never the less, they felt inept, lonesomeness without the blunt short haired blond. And that was a horrible thing to feel for an emotional state. Even sacrificing a minute of thinking about her empty room could make Lennon feel as if all the downtown buildings will crumble to ashes.

    "Felicity."

    "What?"

    "That's my name."

    "Oh."

    "Lennon? Aye, you there man?" 

    Cooper waved his halfway burnt stick before Lennon's face. He coughed. Lennon groggily rubbed his face with his hands to momentarily wake himself. Her voice, her aroma, her appearance, you're a lunatic Lennon, you're fucking losing it, he thought to himself. When he opened his eyes, semi-colored blotches of dots evaded his sight. A quick perception of Felicity flashed before his inadequate eyes. He was blinded. She was all he could see.