Read A Symphony of Cicadas Online

Authors: Crissi Langwell

Tags: #Religion & Spirituality, #New Age & Spirituality, #Reincarnation, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #New Age, #Occult, #Astral Projection, #Sometimes the end is just the beginning

A Symphony of Cicadas

BOOK: A Symphony of Cicadas
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A Symphony of Cicadas

 

A NOVEL

 

Crissi Langwell

The characters and events in this book are fictitious
.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Copyright
© 2013 Crissi Langwell

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the
author
.

Image Copyright Oleg Gekman, 2013. 
Used under license from Shutterstock.com

ISBN-10: 0989066010

ISBN-13: 978-0-9890660-1-3

 

This book is also available
in print
.

Please visit the author’s website to find out where it can be purchased.

 

www.crissilangwell.com

 

 

 

 

DE
DICATION

To my Grandma Estelle, who is probab
ly
watching ove
r all her grandkids from Heaven

 

 

 

Prelude

 

W
hen a moment is
so
tremendous it knock
s
the
familiar part of the world off balance, you’d think there would be some sort of clue before it happened
.
Maybe just a hint, or even a premonition that
would have allowed me
to at least hold
my breath until the moment had
passed and
I could
find
my
footi
ng once again.

But life doesn’t work that way.

Life is
often unfair
.
Sometimes things have to hurt, sometimes they’re even unbearable, and sometimes the pain is necessary.

I learned this lesson the hard way.

 

This is my story.

 

 

 

One

 

I
could fee
l the sunlight against the back
of my eyelids trying to ease me out of sleep, but I wasn’t ready yet
.
I
was still trying to hang on to the last few strands of a dream where John and I were past the point of planning our wedding and enjoying wedded bliss on our honeymoon
.
I could almost taste the salt in the air, feel the spray from the ocean, and hear the plaintive questions from seagulls
soaring
overhead.
Opening my eyes would on
ly
succeed in ripping me from the light grasp of tropical serenity, throwing me headfirst into the reality that I had
on
ly
a few weeks until the big day and so much left to do
.
And I just wasn’t ready.

But
my
valiant efforts
to stay embraced
in
the warmth of my dream
were
already starting to
fail
, the details becoming more
skeletal by the minute
.
Reality tapped at my resolve, scattering the
seagulls
from my ears and replacing them
with the sounds of traffic outside our San Francisco
apartment
.
I breathed in the familiar scent of laundry dete
rgent and sweat, the salty sea smell a mere memory as real life glared through the sunrays that streamed through the window of our bedroom.

John moved next to me, murmuring as he rolled over and settled under the blankets once again
.
I eased my eyes open
to get a glimpse of him before it was time to face the day
.
The pillow had left light lines on his face, standing out against the most
ly
pepper scruff that left a shadow against his upper lip and cheeks
.
He moved his jaw while pursing his lips
.
It had been a year since he had placed a
n engagement
ring on my finger and I had moved in with him
, waking
up to his face every morning since
.
It amazed me that it still felt
so
brand new
.
I was certain that even after
a million
mornings had passed us by,
when we were
in
the twilight of our years, this very first vision of the day would
continue to feel like
a fresh experience.

He was still asleep, but I couldn’t help
scooting
over and positioning my body so that
I
fit against him like a puzzle piece
.
He
gave a deep sigh of c
ontentment
as he woke, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and drawing me closer to him
.
I nestled happi
ly
into his arms.

“Mmm, good morning, Rachel,” he said against my ear before
brushing his lips against it
.
The morning stubble of h
is face
grazed
my skin,
sending
shivers through my body.

“Good
morning, darling
,
” I whispered
.
I
rested
under the weight of his arm
,
even as my skin grew damp with heat from the closeness of our bodies
.
Although it was my tendency to prefer a mountain of blankets
all year round
, the
briefest
amount of cuddling reduced my body to a melting puddle of sweat
.
In response to my skin’s reaction, John pulled away and traced his finger
along my damp skin, making
a solitary trail
down
my spine
.
I felt him pause at the scar from a suspicious mole I had removed years ago,
touching it
with curiosity
before continuing his explorative journey.

“You’re hot,” he
chuckled
.
He started to roll away a little more, but I moved with him so that we stayed connected in a spooning position
.
He laughed, drawing me closer.

“I don’t want to get up yet,” I complained, push
ing
my list of things to do out of my head just a little longer in my deliberate procrastination.

“I can see that,” John murmured
.
He proceeded to move again, this time to maneuver on top of me.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!” I
objected with a laugh.
In spite of my halfhearted pleas, the danger of dragon breath didn’t stop him from placing light kisses on my lips while positioning inside of me as our bodies woke up together with the gentle movement.
I ran my hands across his back, feeling his muscles ripple with each motion
.
H
e
left
a flurry of kisses on my neck, my ears,
and my cheeks
before settling against my mouth once again
.
Any
lingering
worries over morning breath disappeared as our tongues mingled against each other in a sensual promenade of passion
.
I pulled his hips even closer and felt him groan against me.

Moments like these were a rare occurrence
.
Most mornings he was awake before I was, out the door to his construction job before I’d even had my first sip of coffee
.
Two weeks before, he had started a project on the outskirts of the city, building an elaborate home that made our modest apartment look miniscule in comparison
.
H
is free time
was filled with
painstaking
work on
the house he was building for us across the bridge in
San Anselmo
.
It wouldn’t be
finished for
close to a year
, but I could already picture the greenness of the garden in the backyard and the stone path that would lead to our front door.

The urgency in John’s movements intensified, and I
clutched
him against me
.
My breathing mirrored his, moving my bel
ly
against him before he pushed back against mine
.
We didn’t
hear
the first knock on the door.
But the second knock was unmistakable, vibrating the pictures that hung on the wall.

“I know you’re awake,” the muffled voice called from the hallway
.
“I’m trying to sleep, and between your racket and Joey talking in his headset, it’s kind of hard.”

John groaned in frustration
.
The moment was gone as
fast
as it had come, neither one of us getting to the point of completion before
it was over
.
He rolled away from me and rubbed his eyes.

“You might as well stay up, Sam,” John called back to his
fourteen
year old son
.
“We have a ton to do in the yard today while Rachel and Joey are shopping.”

“Whatever
,
D
ude,” Sam replied
.
“I’m going back to bed
.
Don’t wake me up.”

Sam had just come back from his mother’s house the night before after two days away
.
The house was always
calmer
in those days he was gone, especial
ly
for me
.
While Sam had never claimed he didn’t like me
or my son, Joey
, I was unsure how he felt abou
t our
presence in this home, a place that
used to hold
just
him and his dad
.
I
often
felt like I was
walking
on eggshells around him, trying n
ot to offend him in any way
.
But
in truth
, I was
unsure of what
he
would
deem
offensive
.
He was at a stage in his life when everyone around him was unclear on the concept
,
and his sole purpose in life was to set them straight
.
This meant he was
often
correcting me in a tone that was reminiscent of a parent exasperated with their child
.
Soon
I
stopped fighting him on
his attitude
altogether
, keeping my mouth shut and stuffing
my growing resentment towards him
.
But
still,
I was
exhausted by
always
being in the wrong.

John stood up and pulled on his pants, smiling at me
in apology
.

“What’s your plan for today?” he asked.

“First
,
to get Joey off
his videogames
,” I
said, giving
in to the morning
as I
searched for my robe that lay on the floor beside
the
bed
.
“And after breakfast, we’re heading out to the
bridal
shop so I can get him fitted for the wedding
.
I might take him out to lunch after that, depending on our timing
.
You?”

“I’ll probab
ly
let lazy bones sleep for another hour or so, but I have to get the yard at Sara’s house prepared for the rehearsal dinner
.
I’m thinking mums and marigolds would go well in that corner by the birch tree, but you’re the expert
.
What do you think?”

I nodded my head and hummed in agreement, but my mind was already a million miles away
.
Just the mention of gardening reminded me that I needed to check if my sister had ordered the flowers we needed for a few extra arrangements
.
Being that Sara and I owned our own flower shop, the indoor wedding would have the feel of being inside a fragrant garden,
yet
without the San Francisco chill casting
its icy breath on us
.
But if we didn’t order them soon, we would be stuck adding carnations and baby’s breath in between the lavender and white ranunculus
.

I looked at the clock
. It was
almost
eight, proving
it wasn’t as ear
ly
as I thought it was
.
My appointment was at
10:30, and the shop was at least forty-five minutes away from our apartment.

“I better get a move on!” I exclaimed, jumping up while tying the sash on my robe.

I left the bedroom and padded down the hall to Joey’s room
.
From outside the closed door I could hear him loud and clear as he chatted away with whoever else was up at this hour on a Saturday morning to play video games
.
Even though Sam’s door to the right of me was closed, I was sure he could hear every word as well
.
I knocked on Joey’s door
.
The talking paused
for a moment
before starting up again
.
Not wanting to further bother Sam, I chose to just open the door rather than knock again
.
The door clicked but refused to budge.

“Josiah, open up,” I called
in a muffled tone
against the door
.
I heard him get up from his bed to open the door
.
“Since when did you start locking your door?” I asked him, moving past him into the room so I wasn’t talking in the hallway.

“Since everyone likes to barge into my room,” he
pointed out
.

He was on
ly
a year younger than Sam, but at times his seriousness made him seem years older
.
If it weren’t
for his
lack of
height or
his
youthful face, it would be hard to tell who was the older of the stepbrothers.

BOOK: A Symphony of Cicadas
6.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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