Our scarlet days

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 3 (v.1)

Submitted: January 09, 2012

Reads: 141

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 09, 2012




Chapter 3


I really love my reflection in the mirror right now. From yesterday to this morning, I feel like I’ve just stepped out of an episode of How do I look? And they’ve made me look and feel brand new! I’m not wearing anything extravagant; Black skinny jeans, a sky blue blouse and my black pumps. My medium length black hair is tied in a tidy chignon. For makeup I quickly apply black eyeliner and grey eye shadow, nothing else. To finish I put on my favorite white pearl earrings.  I usually try harder, but today I’m satisfied with this little effort. I take one last look at my reflection in the mirror and my eyes fall on what has been making me feel so effortlessly good. A solitaire diamond is sparkling on my left hand. I hold my hand up to my face the ring facing the mirror. I can’t wait to show this to the girls. As I prepare to leave the bathroom, I inhale the scent my perfume has left in the room. One more look in the mirror and I’m off. As I leave the bathroom, stuffy from showering in water way too hot for summer, my skin indulges in the air con blasting in the main bedroom. Kellan is half asleep in our bed. His curly hair is out of control but that doesn’t stop him from looking so darn handsome. As I make myself visible in front of him his eyes pop open lazily and he gives me a smile. I hop on the bed and position myself over him. He is wide awake now. My hands drop on his chest as his eyes-who match the color of blouse I realize- start to sparkle. I give him a kiss on the forehead, to remind him just how cute of a couple we are. I read that when you receive a kiss on the forehead the person is trying to tell you just that. Within the seconds that follow, Kellan grabs my hips smiles and says:

“Try not to make your girls too jealous. I mean I know I’m the perfect guy and everything, literally one in a million but try not to brag”

I can’t help but laugh at what he is asking me to do, and then I reply with a kiss on the lips.

“It’s going to be hard not to brag about you but I’ll try my best I promise”

I hop off the bed, and he yells goodbye as I get out of the apartment. I yell back that I love him as I leave.

As I wait in front of the elevator, I think of just how hectic the New York traffic is going to be.

My train of thought is interrupted as I catch sight of my ring once more.  It’s perfect! If he had given the ring to me four years earlier however, I wouldn’t have thought it so beautiful. I would have wanted to receive a tinted diamond, maybe purple, because it’s the color of hope. When you get engaged to someone, you have hope in the future you’re going to share with your partner. The purple diamond, light purple, would be surrounded by other little diamonds on the sides.

This solitaire diamond is perfect though, I think to myself again. As I am about to embark on a boat load of things I love about my ring, the elevator doors open and as I step in, I go back to worrying about the New York traffic. I’m heading uptown to treat the girls to lunch on the Upper East Side.


In the elevator, which is making me nervous- they all do, because when I step into one, I cannot help but imagine myself stuck inside and running out of fresh air while waiting to be rescued- I debate taking my car or haling a taxi instead. Driving makes me nervous too , but at the same time when you’re in your own car you have the comfort of knowing no stranger has sweat on your seat. Also, I love putting on my own music and just singing along. After just a few seconds of debating with myself, I decide I’m going to hail a taxi. The experience is pretty enjoyable once in a while. I grew up in South Africa. Taxis- apart from taxi buses- aren’t that frequent on the road. If you want to get into a cab, you have to call from home. You don’t just step out on the street to get one. I love everything about the New York City taxis, from their bright yellow color to the drivers who never seem to be too interested as to where you’re going unless you’re a tourist.

I was once a tourist in the city of New York. My parents little sister and I hailed a taxi, to a destination I don’t quit remember in Manhattan. My sister had to use the bathroom. The very curious yet very friendly Bangladeshi taxi driver offered to take us back to his place where my sister would get to use the bathroom. We would also be able to see more of New York on the way there. The trip to the taxi driver’s house ended up being a trip to Queens. We met the man’s entire family and ended up spending the rest of the afternoon with them. It was a random yet very pleasant experience. As enjoyable as that had been, I step out of my building and on to the street, hoping the cab I hail will get me straight to my destination and not to his place in between. When I finally stop a cab, I seat at the back and I say into the hole in the glass that separates me from the driver;

 “3rd Avenue and 74th street please”.

He gives me a thumb up, showing me that he has registered where I want to go. A few seconds later, the cab starts moving and I sit back trying to ignore my mind reminding me of the previous sweaty strangers sunk into the back seat before me.


© Copyright 2019 Ally Kambridge. All rights reserved.


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