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Ryan N Pritt

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Member Since: Jul, 2009

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The Holiday
by Peter Mulraney

The Holiday is the second book in the Inspector West series of crime/romance novels, which explore the lives of people who commit crimes, mess up relationships and fall i..  
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A Moment
by Ryan N Pritt
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Not rated by the Author.
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           >> View all 9

She was intoxicating;

as if painted

By the careful hands of Aphrodite.

Pale, soothing green eyes

Reflected the beaming moon.

waves of midnight colored locks,

Cascaded around the perfect curves

of her face and shoulders.

She lay in the plush grasses

of her own side of the gushing river,

opposite of his.


He was on his own side,

also lying in a carpet of thick green.

His eyes blue-green eyes


the opposite shore.

Both were naked.

Stripped of all normalcy, routine;

Stripped of all defenses.


At the moment their gazes

landed upon one another,

the charging river in front of them


The moon’s high arching path

across the night sky halted.

The noises of nature fell away,

like a fading violin

at the end of a symphony.

Time was frozen.


There was no movement,

save for her graceful hand,

as it traced a path up

and over her alluring hip.

His eyes remained locked onto hers,

unwilling to forfeit a single second

Of this newfound connection.


Her hand grasped the stem

of a solitary yellow flower.

Like a sewing needle, she pulled

the flower from the earth,

And let its delicate petals

Dance across her face.

She extended her arm

to the edge of the stationary waters,

And like a mother guiding

her child,

Pushed the flower toward the other side.


It was an offering;

A gift, an invitation, a recognition.

It was an attempt to reach him.

Someone not from her side,

Someone intriguing,

Someone new.

Someone who temporarily,

had pierced the numbness within her,

that couldn’t; wouldn’t subside.


His eyes watched the flower’s journey

across solemn waters,

but only peripherally. 

He stared into the abyss of her pupils.

A mystery, wrapped in a ring

of calm, green beauty.

The flower sliced through the water,

Preceded by a small “v,”

as the water broke in front

as to not hinder the flower’s

important trek.


He swiftly scooped up the flower,

And let it rest in trembling hands.

He breathed in its exotic aroma;

a smell far from the ordinary.

One that was exciting,

Dangerous, frightening, arousing.

One that filled his body,

his mind, his eyes,

With life.


He reached a hand outward

toward her shore. 

She mirrored his action,

their eyes never leaving

the comfort of each other.

And as his extended finger

traced the outline of her naked body,

He was startled by the subtle

movement of the forgotten flower.

As it wilted.


And as the yellow full shape,

faded to dying decaying brown,

the river that separated them

once again began to roar.

The earth lurched into motion,

And the shadows made by

the glowing light of the moon

resumed their methodical march.


Simultaneously, the two stood.

their stares never leaving each other.

Both, backing away from

Raging waters,

Back to where they had been,

to where they were going.

He watched as she slipped away,

the reflecting pale green,

still hypnotizing him,

Like a snake charmer.


The darkness slowly engulfed them both.

And the river eroded both sides,

with every ticking second

enlarging the distance between them.

Perhaps in another time,

another life,

His side of the river would be hers.

The gap between his longing

Pointed finger, and hers

would be nonexistent.


But for that one moment,

as temporary or fleeting

as it may have been,

two sets of restless eyes

Found each other

through the darkness of the night,

and the distance,

like the rest of the world,

Fell away.

and there was only him and her,

Living in that moment.

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