Contributor: Dan Slaten
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It is a perfect day. The sun is shining, but it’s not too hot. A slight breeze is in the air.
I’m sitting outside a café, and across the table is the girl I love with all my heart. She’s wearing sunglasses, and she looks oh so cool, like a model or a movie star.
I sip my tea as she talks. It’s perfect, just like this day. Sweet, but not too sweet. Cool, but not too cool.
Her voice is like music. She says she doesn’t like the way it sounds, but I like it so much I could listen to her read the phone book. Sometimes she sings, and even though she can barely carry a tune, I love to listen to her. I don’t think she knows this, but how can I tell her? She wouldn’t do it anymore if I told her.
I am going to tell her, I decide.
I’m going to tell her how I feel about her. How could I not on a perfect day like this?
I’m going to tell her how much I love her voice and how I love to hear her sing.
I’m going to tell her how much I love her smile and how seeing it makes me smile too.
I’m going to tell her how her hair looks like it’s made of sunbeams and how every time I see her she makes the day seem brighter.
I’m going to tell her all these things that only someone blind and stupid with love could say with a straight face.
I’m going to tell her because today is a perfect day.
“Oh, guess what,” she says before I can open my mouth. “I met the perfect guy, but I don’t think he likes me.”
Oh, but he does, I think to myself, then realize she isn’t talking about me.
I feel my stomach tighten, and her words blur together in that voice I could listen to for hours on end. That sweet, perfect voice.
I wish that clouds would swoop in, the sky would turn dark, and rain would come down and ruin everything.
But it doesn’t.
It is a perfect day.
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Dan Slaten's writing is fueled by heartbreak and Mountain Dew. "A Perfect Day" was written late one night on hotel stationary.
- -
It is a perfect day. The sun is shining, but it’s not too hot. A slight breeze is in the air.
I’m sitting outside a café, and across the table is the girl I love with all my heart. She’s wearing sunglasses, and she looks oh so cool, like a model or a movie star.
I sip my tea as she talks. It’s perfect, just like this day. Sweet, but not too sweet. Cool, but not too cool.
Her voice is like music. She says she doesn’t like the way it sounds, but I like it so much I could listen to her read the phone book. Sometimes she sings, and even though she can barely carry a tune, I love to listen to her. I don’t think she knows this, but how can I tell her? She wouldn’t do it anymore if I told her.
I am going to tell her, I decide.
I’m going to tell her how I feel about her. How could I not on a perfect day like this?
I’m going to tell her how much I love her voice and how I love to hear her sing.
I’m going to tell her how much I love her smile and how seeing it makes me smile too.
I’m going to tell her how her hair looks like it’s made of sunbeams and how every time I see her she makes the day seem brighter.
I’m going to tell her all these things that only someone blind and stupid with love could say with a straight face.
I’m going to tell her because today is a perfect day.
“Oh, guess what,” she says before I can open my mouth. “I met the perfect guy, but I don’t think he likes me.”
Oh, but he does, I think to myself, then realize she isn’t talking about me.
I feel my stomach tighten, and her words blur together in that voice I could listen to for hours on end. That sweet, perfect voice.
I wish that clouds would swoop in, the sky would turn dark, and rain would come down and ruin everything.
But it doesn’t.
It is a perfect day.
- - -
Dan Slaten's writing is fueled by heartbreak and Mountain Dew. "A Perfect Day" was written late one night on hotel stationary.
Author:
Dan Slaten
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