April: A Love Story

by Peter Fox

Overview

Some moments come along and your world--your life--changes. Something shifts inside and everything’s the same yet somehow different. Sometimes someone comes into your life and helps you to breathe for the first time, to think with clarity and to give you truth and joy.

Often, we never see it coming. But it also happens when we need it the most and, usually, when we don’t realize we need it.

For Joseph Bailey, life has come to a standstill; existence, living, call it what you will, have stopped moving, stopped flowing, stopped growing. Those he knew while growing up seemed to have gone down the right path, creating a so-called normal life. He’s not sure if he followed.

Spending lonely nights writing comic book scripts and hazy afternoons watching cartoons brings him to his knees, and he needs something--maybe even someone--more. One Friday, while at a coffee shop working on a new comic script, Joseph is interrupted when a quirky girl with long black hair and smooth-as-marble gray eyes sits down across from him, seeking sanctuary from her controlling boyfriend, Dan.

Her name is April.

All seems under control even when Dan follows her in to the coffee shop, looking to patch things up. At least, that’s what was supposed to have happened. Once Dan leaves, Joseph figures his work is done and April will be on her way, never to be seen again. Instead, she stays, removes her sweater and orders an apple cider. Just then something slips inside Joseph, something good, right and pure.

Their weekend begins.

From a quiet night in an old railway car to seeking the undertones of humanity at the art gallery, to bringing to light the tender commonalities that we as humans share, April is a story of how a simple chance meeting can hold you and protect you, and give you what the human heart is continuously after--

Hope.

About the Author:

Peter Fox is the pseudonym of author A.P. Fuchs, who lives and writes in Winnipeg, Manitoba. He is the author of numerous books under the Fuchs name (The Axiom-man Saga, Getting Down and Digital: How to Self-publish Your Book, and many more), but as Peter Fox he presently only has one novel under his belt, April, a touching story about love, life and meeting the one person who changes you forever.

He blogs at his site, Canister X.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940011062780
Publisher:	Coscom Entertainment
Publication date:	06/25/2010
Sold by:	Smashwords
Format:	eBook
File size:	369 KB

About the Author

Peter Fox is the pseudonym of author A.P. Fuchs, who lives and writes in Winnipeg, Manitoba. He is the author of numerous books under the Fuchs name (Blood of the Dead, Possession of the Dead, Zombie Fight Night, The Axiom-man Saga, Magic Man Plus 15 Tales of Terror, and many more), but as Peter Fox he presently only has one novel under his belt, April, a touching story about love, life and meeting the one person who changes you forever.

Read an Excerpt

first __________

She was the worst girl I could have fallen in love with. But she was also the best girl. Perhaps the only girl.

It's funny now as I think back to her. It's as if I've fallen into something, something I wasn't ready for, but found nonetheless. And if April were here right now she would say, "Don't worry, Joseph, shadows come, but they can only stretch just so far behind you. And if you try, for a brief moment, you can walk on past them." And she would be right. If I tried, I probably could step on past them. The question is: would I want to? Especially after her? Probably not.

I always thought my life would pan out just like my father's. It would be the regular deal of graduating from high school, go to a college or university, and meet that one special someone shortly afterward. And from there life would go on the same way you see your friends' lives go on, or your neighbours', or relatives'; marriage, kids, retirement. You know, the basics.

There are different types of people. You see them all the time and, I suppose, that's what makes this world a great place to live. So many people. So many stories. So many things that could go wrong but make us stronger.

Walking around downtown, mostly in the Exchange District--the old part of Winnipeg; old buildings, old streets--I catch myself thinking about those things, catch myself taking in the people I pass and wonder what it's like for them afterwards, after they go home from work that day. You know, what kind of person is at home waiting for them. A guy, a girl, a dog or cat, or even if they have someone to go home to at all.

We're all different, but there is aso-called "norm." And, like I said, I thought that my life would be a lot like my dad's. I thought I'd know what I wanted to do with myself after graduation. I really thought I'd get somewhere. But I didn't. Not really. April told me that was okay. She said that she admired me for what I was doing with my life; I write comic books. I have an apartment, I pay bills, I do it all just like everybody else. So what's missing, right? I didn't know the answer to that until this weekend. Then I knew the answer was that I didn't have April. She was the kind of girl that just got to you the way people sometimes do.

The way I see it, there are a few types of people you will meet throughout your life, with two, to me, being the most important. There are the ones that you'll accept for who they are and how they live their lives. And then there's the kind that get to you, the ones where, when you sit back and look at them, you can't help but wonder what it would be like to be them. They have a certain way of doing things, certain habits, certain ways that they say their words or, in April's case, slur their words together as if she was afraid she couldn't say all she had to say unless she rushed her words out all at once.

I wanted to know what it was like to be April. I even told her that once. She said that I didn't want to be her. She said that I wouldn't like it because sometimes it was really hard.

Yeah, she was one of those two types of people. The better type. The kind that got to you.

I guess it would be better if I started from Friday and went from there. Now that I think about it, I'll never have another Friday like it. But what days, really, do we have that stick out in memory that we can truly have again? Not many, and the ones that we do have again, we usually don't notice. Those ones are few and far between. But Friday? Never again. And that's okay, because it was one of the best days of my life.