Friday 6 November 2009

The First Date

Gloria left Mr. Stoneyheart’s home and returned to her apartment, falling into a deep sleep after her tumultuous day. She woke up the next morning much lighter of heart than she had felt for a long time. Clearly, meeting Mr. Stoneyheart had helped her distance herself from the pain of the past couple of months and the breakup with her boyfriend.

Mr. Stoneyheart, too, was feeling unusually cheerful. Always an energetic person, there was an added jauntiness to his step as he went off to work that day. He had enjoyed his time with Gloria and wanted to continue seeing her, so he sent her a notecard asking her to go dancing with him later that evening. Gloria accepted his invitation and they both spent the next few hours in happy anticipation of the evening to come.


After work Mr. Stoneyheart went home and changed, then TP’d to Midnight Reflections, a beautiful sim perfect for a first date. He IM’d Gloria at the appointed time and then TP’d her over. They began their evening at the main dance floor but after a while moved away from that area, walking along the pathways until finding a more private place. They began to dance again, but this time without the distraction of other avatars and their noisy chat. Only the sound of the waterfall and the music could be heard as they danced and occasionally chatted, but much of the time they spent in silence, delighting in the comfort of each other’s presence.

As the sun began to rise they wandered on, strolling through the sim and enjoying the scenery. They started ascending one of the hills, stopping part way to look out over the water. Gloria, feeling relaxed and contented, spontaneously hugged Mr. Stoneyheart.



Continuing on they came to the top of the hill where there was a bench placed for avatars to rest after the steep climb. They sat there together and Mr. Stoneyheart, who perhaps surprisingly had a love of poetry, quoted the words of WB Yeats to Gloria, whispering softly



O CLOUD-PALE eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.

Hibiscus Hastings

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