Almost Like Wilderness / All He Asked For

Two short, boring, pretentious little things.

Almost Like Wilderness
___It was unseasonably warm that day; the ice had begun to melt where it lay exposed to the sun's abuse on the sandy shoreline. The melt-off created intricate branching streams in the fine earth, a microcosm for the larger ecosystem around him. His feet left their mark on the damp ground as he paced the water's edge, listening to the creak of the ice as it struggled to hold together in a solid mass amid the strain of its liquid progenitor shifting below. The wind howled over the peaks of the trees on the opposite shore, carrying the heavy scent of pine in the cool, crisp air. This was the kind of day that made him feel alive.
___A raven croaked from its perch at the apex of a dead tree, a gnarled spire of a thing, long struck dead by lightening but still very much a host to life. The clever bird regarded him with a wary eye, cautious enough to watch but not such a slave to instinct as to flee with no tangible threat like the ducks flushed from the reeds earlier by his presence. He raised his binoculars to his eyes to catch a better glimpse of the magnificent bird, black as the river styx yet untouched, in his mind, by any of the dark symbolism attributed to the species. He'd loved ravens since he was a young boy growing up in rural Canada, and seeing one here in New York was a rare treat.
___It was almost possible to believe, surrounded by forest and lake, nestled in winter's frigid embrace, that he was back home in those miles of untouched wilderness. Though he had a fine sense of hearing, he could not detect the busy rumble of cars on the freeway beyond. It was a time of year and state of economy where plane flights were rare, so the roar of jet engines did not damn the solitude. The only hint of humanity was the quiet crinkle of a discarded candy wrapper, half mired in mud, the rest flapping in the breeze. He plucked the trash from the earth, fancying himself an anthropologist studying the relics of a foreign culture in a moment of mirth before crumpling it into its pocket for later disposal.

All He Asked For
___ When he watched her, it was through the convex glass of an old computer monitor's screen, the glow emanating from the machine bright like her smile but colder, more distant. She had a Facebook page that unlike his had new comments from friends almost daily - real friends, not the near-strangers from high school added only for fear of looking rude declining. Those friends elicited a feeling in him somewhat akin to jealousy, though not the possessive sort of a boyfriend, nor the fear that someone else may snatch her up. His was the wistful type spawned from wishing he'd been cast as a more prominent character in the fantastic movie of her life, privy to each inside joke and shared memory.
___ South America, Japan, Oregon, Alaska - she flew free-spirited and uninhibited like a bird from continent to continent, chasing her dreams unbridled as a wild mustang. (She also made him think of stupid, flowery animal analogies). Unbound by the shackles of conformity and throwing all anxious, well-planned cautions to the wind, she did not work towards her goals, but lived towards them. He almost felt embarrassed when she asked how he enjoyed his regimental yearly trips to Florida; it was like God asking a scientist about his clumsy stabs at creation.
___ She asked these question on the same screen through which he observed her, for she rarely lingered for long in the state where they had met, his home and her launchpad. This year, she was attending college in Berlin, and as always he felt that same dull ache in his chest that accompanied the knowledge that he would spend time with her, at best, once annually. This suffering was endured in silence, of course; while other men might proclaim their love and insist she stay in their selfish company, his love was embodied through the simple joy he took in knowing that she was doing what made her happiest. Even if, by some disaster, she should elect to break ties, he knew he could be content with the mere thought that she was alive and in the world. This knowledge, and the rare glimpse of her smiling face through his computer screen, was all he asked for.