Across the Table

How many times had they sat opposite this very table from one another? Dozens. A hundred? They had been friends for years, him and her. Seen each other through thin times and thick. Friends. Good friends. She through a divorce. He through a massive breakup (though he would never tell her what all went wrong between them).

They’d cooked each other fresh homemade meals. Critiqued one another’s writings. He a poet, she a story-teller. They told each other the good things and the bad things and the menial things in life.

Scarcely a day went by where they didn’t meet for coffee or text a quick note or email an incidental photograph or, like today, meet for a game of cribbage and maybe dinner in a bit. They were the best of friends and they shared life together.

He embraced her lifelong scars while she covered his heart from tormenting darkness. As occasionally happens in these instances, they had slowly stripped the protective layers from one another. Until the day came that they had bared their innermost souls to one another.

They were dear friends. He couldn’t picture a day without her there with him. She dared not imagine a night gone by without him there at a moment’s notice.

So tonight, they sit across from one another, just another day from the pile of days behind them. He said something, something small, insignificant really, but his eyes glittered when he accused her of cheating once again, she threw her head back in that exuberant way she threw herself into anything and laughed. Hard and loud, until the laughter settled into giggles as she lay down another winning hand.

He smiled at her, shaking his head slowly. Then unexpectedly something ignited within his heart. Something he thought didn’t exist. He reached across the table and pulled her hand into his. She lifted her eyes to his and they widened in recognition, her smile loosened its grip, as her whole world came crashing down around her and everything instantly changed…

tara caribou | ©2019

23 Comments on “Across the Table

  1. Wow. This was a beautiful tale of friendship blossoming into something more. It paints their intimacy (not in a sexual way) and comfort level with one another very well.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you! I think maybe they were always attracted to one another but both remained in friendship until recognition came upon them quite suddenly that it was much more. Just a guess though.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. This could either be the start of something extremely beautiful or it’s the beginning of the end. I sincerely hope it’s the former than the latter.
    You painted quite a beautiful picture through this, intricately designing the little details through a wonderful choice of words ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The last sentence made me think. Did her world change for the better, or for worse because she didn’t want to lose what they had? Well written and profound Tara

    Liked by 1 person

  4. It drips with an idealistic realism between the lines so much I can almost hear the reverberation of their conversation. Lets hope its their deeper connection was ignited with the start of a spring season, so everything can take a strong root amidst sunny days and be fruitful before the creep of winter passes over in its dreary days.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Beautifully written, Tara. I wonder how often the signs are misinterpreted by one or another (or both) – yet it only takes one tiny moment for things to change.
    Very uplifting.

    Liked by 3 people

  6. Whoa. This is amazing. I love this. It’s awesome to read something totally different from you! I like it. And it’s quite insightful!

    Liked by 1 person

The Peddler

Art Consignments in Ninilchik, Alaska

The Pegasus Fiasco

Apologies for my apologies


Poetry by Charles Joseph

Rum and Robots

We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive

Robert Charboneau.

Writer and Artist

living document

a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind

Anonymously Hal

Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts


The Lies in the Skies Exposed

Writer In Retrospect

"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am..." --Maya Angelou

The Tigress Awakens

Welcome to my tiny corner of the universe filled with poems that I have written.


Author | Freelance Writer | Blogger



Better Letters

Butterwell's Blog

my life as a piece of string

... from a silent space

%d bloggers like this: