The yellow street light outside the two-story warehouse loft slowly gave way to the encroaching hues of the waking sun. The first shoots of rays illuminated the aromatic steam squeezing out from around the lid of the Chambord situated on the counter. Sitting beside the steaming French press was a pair of glistening, freshly shaven legs, bent at the knees and soft like a mother's gaze on a sleeping newborn baby.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgougUx8ugc
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The girl sat back on her elbows watching the lights out the window fight for supremacy while she fiddled dispassionately with her favorite empty mug, a souvenir from her traveling days. The brisk early morning wind swept off the Mississippi River and seeped through the windows of the loft provoking the girl's near naked body that rested atop the countertop. The cold fingers of the breeze tattooing invisible spirals into her damp, light-olive skin.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa3srLG3eT4
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She always sat there in the mornings just like that: Covered only by long strands of violet-tinted jet black wavy hair, a few tattoos covering painful memories of the past, and a pair of boy shorts that kept her bum from freezing to the cold steel kitchen counter. While she awaits the steeping of her coffee that is a prerequisite to breathing in the real world each day, her fingers playfully dance with the shadows slowly creeping from the counter as she reminisces about her morning peregrination an hour earlier.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ84avwf3Vsi
873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKfTvTSZehM
She loves waking while the day was still sleeping to explore the city under her loft... she would run down Tchoupitoulas and cut over to find St. Charles following the streetcar line until it reached Audubon Park where she would jump the tracks and run amongst the Spanish moss draped live oaks. The girl would cover almost the entire city over any given month. She preferred bypassing the French Quarter by way of the Moon Walk through Woldenberg Park, though she would often find time for Esplanade and head on up to City Park. The girl especially enjoyed her runs when the fog would roll off the river and blanket the tree-lined neutral ground masking the civilization encroaching around her. Just her and her soles and her music. That was her honey roll, her sweet dessert.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡArvgeATRlG
This morning she kept her run to the Warehouse and Central Business Districts passing through the dark, sleeping giants towering above her. John Coltrane's Blue Trane drifted across her ears.
The air was crisp and salty this overcast morning, like slightly burnt garlic toast. The wind howled and moaned incessantly over the transcendent sounds of Coltrane's musings as the cool gusts passed in between the buildings acting like a spoiled child starved for attention. The mixture of tall buildings with the old-world architecture surrounding the goliaths throughout the city made the wind bob and weave counterintuitive to its natural flow. At times it felt like the wind was hitting her in all directions making it hard to breath, but she persevered on… head tilted down and with a guarded, “you won’t beat me” smile.
Her quest through the city took a turn for the worse when she had to dive headlong onto the concrete sidewalk in order to escape a large green dragon barreling down and heading straight for her. She remembers hearing a few loud crashes and bangs intermingling with the crass little wind on this morning's run emanating from a side alley close to the Cobalt Lounge. The sudden aberrant sounds awoke her out of her zoned-out runner’s trance.
At first subtle, then increasingly monstrous, the encumbrancing sounds spilled out into the street following her as she glided by. Visions of her past slammed into her head. She stopped in her tracks and pulled the earphones out of her ears to get a better read on where it came from, the passion of Curtis Fuller's "gutty" trombone solo, as described by Robert Levin in the original 1957 album liner notes, emanated from the unoccupied speakers crudely collaborating with the calamity at hand. She found herself distracted and turning from one side to the other, almost in a full circle, unable to get her bearing. 873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6RWAvlLAbY
873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEz7efPaiQV
Another loud bang and an incessant horn followed. A loud engine barreled up behind her as trash can lids and trash shredded into confetti launched in all directions. She followed the sound with her body and saw the enormous green dragon, the Crescent City Sanitation Services dump truck, speed toward her. The monster, never slowing, narrowly missed her as she dove to the broken sidewalk to her right, evacuated puddles from the street now dripping off of the girl’s wide-eyed face. The driver's eye, the only one working at the time, never strayed from its thousand yard stare. 873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Dc7RHMfbP
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Stunned, she sat on the ground looking around for a reason or an instant replay of what just happened, but the only life she could find around her was the traffic light above her, blinking it's yellow light on and off. Just blinking, tormenting her. Blinking.... The blinking light... the blinking light....873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ18rzNk366J
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The orange light on her color alert timer was blinking on and off anxiously trying to get the attention of the girl who chose to wait for the steeping coffee with one of 'Trane’s melancholy solos from the end of the album distracting her ears and the new light of the morning flooding her ice blue irises. In her mind she snapped to, but on the outside neither a facial expression nor a grimace found the girl's face to tell anyone the torment she was just reliving. 873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpVSq9KkM2x
873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPTci09pkMK
The girl reached over and pushed the plunger down into the black abyss and poured the noir, black cherry-hinted liquid into her mug. She was almost turned on by the aroma of the Balisian coffee as she brought it up to the cradle of her full supple lips. She blew softly leaving no waft of steam unprovoked ensuring she took in the full aroma with hints of walnuts and toffee wrapped in sweet chocolate before she dared to quell the thirst of her lips.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ992y1KKwj
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'Bali Blue moon...' She whispered inside her head. The Indonesian coffee was one of her favorites, "never to be gulped, only sipped," her Godfather would say in a familiar memory that would often play on repeat. The full body and low acidity of the medium roast was the perfect goldilocks coffee for a morning detour into the imagination.
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"I wonder if there’s a bay there Papa." She mused.
"If so, what would you call it my little trouble clef?" Her Godfather countered.
"I would call it Blue Moon Bay." Answered the precocious nine year old. "It would be my secret lair where I would make music and grow unicorns and have hundreds of fluffy kitties. Oh, and make plans to rule the world of course. She added.
The dark skinned man let out a bellowing chuckle that startled her before she joined him in his exasperation. The girl rambled on in her mind with her best English accent trying to steal herself away from reliving the morning's trauma. 'There should be a waterfall there...'
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As Coltrane’s colorful masterpiece continued to play on in her head, she unraveled herself from the counter planting her feet firmly but delicately on the glossy hardwood floor. She stood at five foot and nine inches with an hourglass figure lightly accented with scenes from her life.
She stretched up reaching high as if she were going to elongate her frame and touch the ten foot high vaulted ceiling with her outstretched fingers. Just before reaching the tipping point of losing her balance, the girl effortlessly tumbled backwards onto her hands, completely turning the world upside down only to find her feet again on solid ground. All this within a blink of her deep blue eyes. But, when she landed, her feet found the familiar taijiquan pose she had learned as a much smaller girl with her equally wise and salty former guardian. "Straight back, focus the energy, find the jazz," the girl reminisced as a smile ensued. The 'find the jazz' was always said with a gracious squint.
She swayed from one pose to the next like she was guided by the hands of a cloud in the breeze. Her breathing deep and controlled, yet effortless. Her defined leg muscles glimmered in the morning light as her glutes tightened and lined abs allowed her to dance nimbly with the encroaching fire of the morning light. 873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAYsEiqfC4B
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The soft scrabbling of claws on wood would have been heard behind her had she not been otherwise distracted by the sounds of the small jazz combo bearing their souls between her ears. The pouncing belonged to the girl's partner in crime, Arya. She was the true cat, a cat burglar in matter of fact. Having a fancy for getting in trouble and for shiny gadgets; As well as affection, sometimes at the same time...873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl81geLsa6i
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"Wren."873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJwP1aNG9vF
873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWHEVgLqzMM
More pouncing and pitter patter of soft feet. The girl continued her slight movements through the air.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ01DTeAdCTs
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Arya would often be blamed for missing keys, dismantled flowers, rings down drains and rightfully so.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv06Qon6iEV
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"Wren."873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRnxHx2cGW7
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Pouncing. Small crash. The girl, eyes closed, smirk on face, continued the dance with the light.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoNN3XJ6vGH
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Arya was a grey and black Leopard-spotted and tiger-striped short hair with a long tuft of white fur under her lower abdomen. Sleeping by day and stalking at night, leaving no inch of the 2,200 square foot loft unchecked. She was a prowler, un rôdeur, but also an accomplished watch cat.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVHhoHk6MSN
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"Wren!" A soft meow echoed from the kitchen counter. "Wren. Wre-"873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpTmPb3pGFs
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Victoria stormed out of her first floor room and stopped in her tracks staring at the breasts peeking out between strands of long hair before her. She wasn't usually up this early. She almost felt like she was doing something wrong, like she just walked out on stage during a play and she was supposed to be seated in the audience. However angry she previously felt, she now felt reprimanded and stared in awkward awe awaiting her punishment. She was just snared in Wren’s trap and she could not seem to pry herself out of it.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLJA4Xflpna
873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYABnO3Thp9
It was hard to believe it had been almost a year since Victoria had seen Wren’s body in this form, and she missed the taste of it every damn day. She watched as the girl danced in between the light shafts impaling the tall cathedral style windows lining the eastern wall of the loft. Her body was magnificent and strong and playful, and in Victoria's eyes... downright captivating. She was able to slowly shift her gaze upward and near buckled her knees when she caught the sight of her lips in her gaze. Victoria managed to pull it together, steady herself and muster up one last beacon.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNhyxh1Ocw9
873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWXhurNZ3Ix
"Wren," Victoria said with quiet determination.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbrAYh7esbL
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The girl turned her head facing her roommate. The roommate locked into the deep blue oceans around Wren’s pupils and instantly found herself floating on a deflating life boat right smack in the middle of them. ‘Damn, another trap,’ Victoria inhaled sharply and gasped in her head.
Wren tilted her head to one side ever so slightly, instinctively weakening the hold over her roommate, and without a diminish of the Cheshire grin on her face, sauntered over and parked her mesmerizing lips inches from Victoria’s.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpkWLNvKNQJ
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"I have missed you too, Tori." The whispers were soft and seductive.873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡitoyyjaQDq
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The girl turned and grabbed Arya off the counter beside Tori and marched up the long flight of stairs to her bedroom. The girl never looked back. The cat, however, with one paw kneading at the girl's chest, never broke eye contact with Victoria the whole journey up the stairs. Victoria, unable to take her eyes off the perfect bubbles of her backside as the girl walked into the darkness above, sighed in desirous resignation...873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ91tCMMUgcb
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"Wren."873Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe1SOoXlXxy
