| MEMORIES AT CONEY ISLAND |
I knew from the moment I saw him he was the one. We
had met each other at a midnight softball game under a
crescent moon. His beady olive eyes were dreamy and his skin
golden bronze from the mid-August sun. I can remember that
day as if it were yesterday, him standing by the dugout dressed
in black sweat shorts with a white golf shirt. John was my
dream come true...my Stallion waiting to be tamed.
When he asked me to meet him, I didn’t know what to
expect. He left me an email with explicit details asking me to
meet him at the parachute ride at Steeplechase in Coney Island
at ten o’clock. It was a Thursday night, the stars where
sparkling, the sky red, the weather hot and humid.
By the time I arrived, it was almost five to ten. I stood clad
in a white cotton skirt with matching white shirt complementing
my suntan and black hair. I will never forget the look on his face
when he saw me. Later on, I had found out that he had the
same butterflies in his stomach as did I. I couldn’t figure out
why I was so nervous. We had been together for over five
years, and every time we were together, it felt like the first
time. Our kisses always had the same effect, leaving us
speechless, our libido on fire.
There was something about that night which remained
magical. The waves crashed along the shoreline, the air filled
with the scent of saltwater and cotton candy. The crowd began
dwindling, the sound of the arcade grew louder. When I
reached him, he extended his arms out. I fell into his embrace.
It had been close to a week since I last saw him. I almost
got the distinct impression he was purposely trying to avoid
me. That’s why when he asked me to meet him, the depression
lifted and I dressed to kill. John’s eyes sparkled from the
reflection of the moon, drawing me closer to him.
“What do you say we take a walk along the shoreline?”
John asked kissing my lips.
“I’d like that,” I nervously replied feeling my libido rising.
I took his hand. We walked down the wooden ramp to the
sand. I struggled walking down to ocean, but was worth it, for
when we reached steady ground, John took me in his arms,
kissed me softly, yet passionately.
When we parted, he pointed to the parachute ride. “I
remember the story you told me about your childhood
memories of sitting on the beach parallel with the ride.”
“Ah...you listened when I told you.”
“I always listen to what you say,” he smiled. “Every time
you tell me the story, your mood changes. Your face lights up.”
“Yeah. Coney Island is magical and full of memories which
will last a lifetime.”
“And that’s the reason why I have brought you here. I
want those memories to be engraved in your mind
forever…being passed on to your children and grandchildren.”
“Every time I’m with you, we make history and memories
that will be forever etched in my heart.”
“Do you have any idea why I asked you to meet me here
today?” he asked pushing my bangs out of my eyes.
“Not at all. It’s been a rough week for me. I just got the
distinct impression that you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Yes I have. I wanted you to think...wonder what was
going on. What was on my mind,” John explained.
“But why?”
“Look around you. This is the first time I 've ever been
here, yet I feel as if I have been here before. You have been a
vital part of my life. What better place,” he began getting down
on one knee, “for me to ask you,” he continued taking a velvet
box out of his pants, “will you marry me?”
He opened the velvet box. I stared at a gorgeous round
diamond ring. Taking it out of the box, he slid it on my finger.
I didn't hesitation. “Yes!” I wrapped my arms around his
neck and our lips locked.
We both turned around when in the distance fireworks
started going off along the Staten Island shoreline. My night,
my life was complete.
had met each other at a midnight softball game under a
crescent moon. His beady olive eyes were dreamy and his skin
golden bronze from the mid-August sun. I can remember that
day as if it were yesterday, him standing by the dugout dressed
in black sweat shorts with a white golf shirt. John was my
dream come true...my Stallion waiting to be tamed.
When he asked me to meet him, I didn’t know what to
expect. He left me an email with explicit details asking me to
meet him at the parachute ride at Steeplechase in Coney Island
at ten o’clock. It was a Thursday night, the stars where
sparkling, the sky red, the weather hot and humid.
By the time I arrived, it was almost five to ten. I stood clad
in a white cotton skirt with matching white shirt complementing
my suntan and black hair. I will never forget the look on his face
when he saw me. Later on, I had found out that he had the
same butterflies in his stomach as did I. I couldn’t figure out
why I was so nervous. We had been together for over five
years, and every time we were together, it felt like the first
time. Our kisses always had the same effect, leaving us
speechless, our libido on fire.
There was something about that night which remained
magical. The waves crashed along the shoreline, the air filled
with the scent of saltwater and cotton candy. The crowd began
dwindling, the sound of the arcade grew louder. When I
reached him, he extended his arms out. I fell into his embrace.
It had been close to a week since I last saw him. I almost
got the distinct impression he was purposely trying to avoid
me. That’s why when he asked me to meet him, the depression
lifted and I dressed to kill. John’s eyes sparkled from the
reflection of the moon, drawing me closer to him.
“What do you say we take a walk along the shoreline?”
John asked kissing my lips.
“I’d like that,” I nervously replied feeling my libido rising.
I took his hand. We walked down the wooden ramp to the
sand. I struggled walking down to ocean, but was worth it, for
when we reached steady ground, John took me in his arms,
kissed me softly, yet passionately.
When we parted, he pointed to the parachute ride. “I
remember the story you told me about your childhood
memories of sitting on the beach parallel with the ride.”
“Ah...you listened when I told you.”
“I always listen to what you say,” he smiled. “Every time
you tell me the story, your mood changes. Your face lights up.”
“Yeah. Coney Island is magical and full of memories which
will last a lifetime.”
“And that’s the reason why I have brought you here. I
want those memories to be engraved in your mind
forever…being passed on to your children and grandchildren.”
“Every time I’m with you, we make history and memories
that will be forever etched in my heart.”
“Do you have any idea why I asked you to meet me here
today?” he asked pushing my bangs out of my eyes.
“Not at all. It’s been a rough week for me. I just got the
distinct impression that you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Yes I have. I wanted you to think...wonder what was
going on. What was on my mind,” John explained.
“But why?”
“Look around you. This is the first time I 've ever been
here, yet I feel as if I have been here before. You have been a
vital part of my life. What better place,” he began getting down
on one knee, “for me to ask you,” he continued taking a velvet
box out of his pants, “will you marry me?”
He opened the velvet box. I stared at a gorgeous round
diamond ring. Taking it out of the box, he slid it on my finger.
I didn't hesitation. “Yes!” I wrapped my arms around his
neck and our lips locked.
We both turned around when in the distance fireworks
started going off along the Staten Island shoreline. My night,
my life was complete.
UPDATED JANUARY 21, 2008
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Karen Cino
