Homonym | a MG short story | note page 47 & blog link - Page 4

He pulled up outside the familiar apartment in his metallic antique Chevrolet. The engine spluttered as it died down, a testimonial to all it had seen and experienced and yet it still managed to exist, day in, day out.

Johan Afre stepped out of the car, smoothing the collars down of his jacket. He felt oddly nervous today; the reason familiar to his heart but his mind refusing to process it.

He took the steps two at a time, and gave a small knock on their door. Within seconds, Pari in all her bubbly cheeriness opened the door, pressed a kiss to his cheek and invited him in.

"Geet's just getting ready," she explained, strolling into the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"I'm alright, thank you."

"Juice? Water? The heat can be dehydrating."

Johan held a hand up in protest. "Really, I'm perfectly fine."

Pari perched on the armchair of a small battered sofa. "You've got the job of impressing the Madame tonight, it seems."

"I'm surprised she agreed to come."

She smiled to herself. "I can think of a few reasons why."

Right on cue, Geet appeared, looking serene upon first glance but a closer inspection revealed the awkwardness that painted her face.

"Are you okay, Geet?" Johan asked, sensing how uncomfortable she was. "You can choose to not attend, if you prefer."

"It's not the event. It's these damned heels," she pointed towards to a pair of silver sandals that adorned her feet.

Pari stifled a mocking laugh. "I've always told you to wear a bit more height. Wedges would be a great start."

"Yes your Highness, I'll buy some tomorrow immediately. Can we leave now, please?" Geet held the now wrapped painting with both hands, instigating Johan's curiosity.

"Can I have a peek?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Patience is a virtue, whose fruit tastes much sweeter at the end. Shall we?"

Pari watched the two with a beady eye, and once the door had closed shut after their departure, she knew exactly what she had to do.

***

He held the steering wheel with a vice like grip as if his life depended on it. The sun was setting over the picturesque town, illuminating it with a dreamy golden glow. The view of the sea welcomed him to his right, and the profile of a beautiful artist to his left.

Yet his stomach churned, with every glance he stole by looking at her. She seemed on edge, her fingers never stilling from tapping her thigh; the hairs on her neck refusing to sit. Something was troubling her, to such an extent that she sought solace in crowded places to escape the silence of her own company.

"Are you nervous, Geet?" he asked.

She was brought out of her reverie with his sudden voice. Looking blankly at him, he realised she had missed his question and repeated it, to which she shook her head with a negative. Once Johan had looked back onto the road in front of him, she let gaze wander aimlessly at the trees flashing by her.

The leaves and the bark seemed to blend with the speed at which they were travelling; quaint houses blurred into flashes of beige, even people passing by were here one minute and gone the next. It was almost as if everything had been painted the same shade, on the same page; yet the contrasts and texture held a different meaning.

Geet willed herself to close her eyes, letting the basking sun tease her with its lingering final warmth before it rose the following morning to greet another day. Her shoulders relaxed, her incessant tapping stopped and she saw nothing; not before seeing something. Someone.

'We are a homonym.'

The familiar voice and eyes jerked her back to life. Johan stared at her, startled by her sudden jolt.

"I'm okay," she said, replying to his silent question. She took a deep breath and willed for her heart to calm itself down. She feared the worst was yet to come.

***

A/N: Johan's vintage car.

I already like Johan . He likes Geet to an extent her state of nervousness and fidgety behavior is noticed by him. Seems like Pari is weaving a plan .