“Last call,” the bartender shouted over the loud dance music. I looked down at the drink I had been nursing all night and sighed. Having been abandoned earlier by my friends for members of the opposite sex, I wasn’t quite ready to go home alone again.
I looked out on the dance floor, watching happy people moving to the pounding beat, and shook my head. Maybe one of these days that would be me out there. I wasn’t going to hold my breath, though.
I was almost to the door when the music changed. A soft slow song I hadn’t heard in years poured from the speakers, and I stopped… unable to move. I found the nearest bar stool and sat there, letting the melody wash over me and wishing somehow I was in someone’s arm. I closed my eyes, letting my imagination carry me away with the daydream.
“Excuse me,” a familiar voice said, a warm hand resting on my shoulder. “Would you care to dance?”
Startled out of a lovely daydream, I caught a faint smell above the tobacco and alcohol. After so many years, I’d know that smell anywhere. It was imprinted on me like my own DNA. Not quite sure to believe it, I looked up … right into your eyes. The smile on your face lit up your eyes, and I was stunned. Unable to do anything but nod, you grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor.
We danced out there, swaying to the music and not saying anything. I looked up into your eyes and saw you smiling. The smile was breath-taking, and it was all I could do to make myself look away.
The music changed – another slow song coming on – and I was about to walk away when you pulled me tighter to you. I smiled softly and rested my head on your chest while we danced, sighing to myself about how short-lived some dreams are meant to be.
The rhythm washed over us smooth as a piece of watered silk, and I couldn’t help but look up at your face. You were smiling down at me – one of those thousand watt smiles that I feel all the way to my toes – and leaned down, barely brushing your lips with mine.
I could not believe it! I had just been daydreaming this exact moment minutes earlier, and here you were, kissing me on the dance floor. My pulse raced, and I lost myself in thought on the dance floor.
As the song faded, you brushed your lips to mine again. I smiled at you and sighed, turning to go grab my coat. The look on my face was on of utter defeat, and I made my way towards the door – dreams of what the night might have been flashing through my mind.
Your hand on my shoulder, spinning me around to face you, brought me back to that moment. “How are you going to get home?”
I started to answer and then remembered my ride home had left. “I don’t know. I’ll probably take a cab.”
You smiled again – damn it, why did your smile effect me this way – and said, “Would the lady allow a gentleman to escort her home on such a chilly night?”
I looked around and chuckled. “Lady?” I smiled at you and nodded. “This lady would love for the gentleman to escort her home.”
We went out to your car and headed for my place. Upon arriving, you hurried around to the passenger door and opened it for me, allowing me to exit easily. Holding out your hand, you walked me to the front door.
As I fumbled with my keys – god, I was so nervous – I tried not to look at you. Just one look would belie what I was feeling. I located the keys in the bottom of my purse – of course, they would have to be hidden under everything else – and as I was pulling them out, the contents of my purse spilled onto the porch.
Mortified, I quickly knelt down to pick up the various bits of clutter that always seem to accumulate in a woman’s purse. You bent down to help me, smiling and chuckling as you did.
I went to grab my hairbrush, and my hand brushed yours. I inhaled deeply and looked up… right into your intense gaze. I stared for only a moment, but it was one moment too long. I had fallen right there and then – fallen into those deep pools and knew there was no rescue.
“Uh, um,” I stammered as I stood again, unlocking the door. “Would you like to come in for a drink or something?” I gazed down, not daring to look you in the eyes.
“I would love that.”
We went inside, and I closed the door behind us, locking it out of habit. “Name your poison.”
“Do you have any coffee, actually?”
I grinned. “One cup of coffee coming up. You take anything in it?”
“Just black.”
I set about making a pot of coffee, the familiar routine settling my nerves a bit. Once it was percolating, filling the small house with its inviting aroma, I went back out into the living room with you, sitting across from you on the couch.
Silence settled in the room, like the chill of an autumn fog. Deafening as it was, I just could not bring myself to speak. My pulse was racing, and my blood was pounding in my ears. The one question I wanted to ask – what about her? – would not come to my lips.
“So, uh – uh, what brought you out there tonight?” I gazed at the wall behind you, knowing one look in your eyes would be my undoing.
“I ran into your friend. She said you were still there by yourself, and I thought you might need a friendly face after they had all deserted you.”
Defeated, I sighed, allowing my shoulders to slump forward a bit. So that was it. He only came out because I might need a friendly face. “Well, thank you. I do appreciate it.”
Silence came once again, as if neither of us trusted to say anything. What seemed like an eternity passed, just the two of us sitting across from one another without saying a word, before you moved over to sit beside me.
My heart skipped a beat. What were you doing? I couldn’t quite figure it out because I knew you had feelings for someone else – we had discussed it many a time before.
“What do you…” my voice trailed off as I looked into your eyes. They were intense and unguarded. The look was too inviting to resist.
I leaned forward, placing my hand on your cheek, and kissed you. At first it was just the barest brush of my lips but soon it deepened into something raw and passionate.
When I finally realized you were returning my kiss, I sat up. I looked at you, why already poised on my lips to ask, and suddenly knew. There had been no one else – you had been trying to find a way of telling me without knowing how.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I didn’t know how,” was followed by a soft, shy smile. Your gaze came up to meet mine, and I was gone – lost forever in the depths of those pools.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Long Lost Art of the Free Write
I took a creative writing class in high school as an English elective. I knew I loved to write, and I thought that it would be an easy way to get an A.
One of the exercises we had to perform daily was called a "Free Write". This was 10 to 15 minutes of time set aside at the beginning of class to get the creative juices to flow. It has been years since I thought of this technique, and it was with no surprise when I found myself sitting here in front of the monitor tonight, having taken a most unfortunate nap earlier and feeling increasingly ill, that my mind returned once again to this exercise.
The goal of the free write is to just write. There is no subject, no constraints, and no restraints on what you can write about. You're just supposed to open your mind and either put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard for the time allotted. Tonight's time was 10 minutes to just ramble on about the first idea that popped into my head.
The previous post is the result of that time. I know where the idea came from - a moment of personal tragedy showing up in my subconscious when I closed my eyes. What resulted, however, could be the beginnings of two different story directions. It's amazing what one little kernel of inspiration can do to light that spark of imagination.
If you're feeling the need to write but are feeling blocked, I suggest you try this technique. Just choose an amount of time in which you're going to write - 10, 15, 20... maybe even 30 minutes. Close your eyes for just a moment or two to see what prompts you to start typing. And then just write. Write what flows into your head. Cause it to flow onto the screen or the paper like a river flowing into the ocean. Don't stop to look at it ... don't take a moment to reread it. Just write. There will always be time later on to go back and look at what inspired you at that particular.
The object is just to write... to live once more within the circus of your imagination.
Free Write (06 Jan 2009 23:35) - Murder or Cure?
He laid back on the table, staring at the cold, sterile surroundings. A sense of unease built within his chest, and he could barely contain the tears. 54 years on this earth had boiled down to this - some stranger filling his veins and his body with poison.
She smiled at him, trying her best to reassure and to comfort. Fitting the the needle into his arm, she was careful to ensure that she'd tapped directly into the vein. There was no room for error... no recourse for missing her target. Adjusting the line, she opened up the lock and let the fluid flood the line.
He closed his eyes, terror washing through him. Memories of time spent with his wife and kids floated past like a slideshow, each moment more precious than the last. Could this really be it? Had he actually reached the end of the line? If he could do it all again, he knew he'd make sure that he spent more time with the ones he loved... ensure he took advantages of each opportunity life presented him and not squander away the time like some cricket in the sun.
The first drop hit his veins and burned like some sort of acid eating away at him. It flowed from the tubing into his arm and through his body, filling him with the most deadly type of poison. He tried to make the most of it, but his mind would not allow him to concentrate on the positive. Cold dread filled him, and a tear slid down his cheek.
The burning sensation spread through. At first just an unpleasant warmth, it quickly spread into an ingulfing inferno. His body became feverish, and he felt as if he'd be consumed in flames at any moment. Biting his tongue, he refused to give in... refused to admit to the sheer agony that was consuming him from the inside out.
The foul fluid spread through his arms, his chest. It spread into his neck and stomach. Fiendish fingers reached out and prodded at soft tissues; they poked at his organs. He tried to curl into the fetal position and was stopped by the apparatus. Wishing for a mercifully swift death, all he could do now was wait.
But wait for what? What was standing on the other side of this doorway opened before him? Sweet relief? Or dark agony?
She smiled at him, trying her best to reassure and to comfort. Fitting the the needle into his arm, she was careful to ensure that she'd tapped directly into the vein. There was no room for error... no recourse for missing her target. Adjusting the line, she opened up the lock and let the fluid flood the line.
He closed his eyes, terror washing through him. Memories of time spent with his wife and kids floated past like a slideshow, each moment more precious than the last. Could this really be it? Had he actually reached the end of the line? If he could do it all again, he knew he'd make sure that he spent more time with the ones he loved... ensure he took advantages of each opportunity life presented him and not squander away the time like some cricket in the sun.
The first drop hit his veins and burned like some sort of acid eating away at him. It flowed from the tubing into his arm and through his body, filling him with the most deadly type of poison. He tried to make the most of it, but his mind would not allow him to concentrate on the positive. Cold dread filled him, and a tear slid down his cheek.
The burning sensation spread through. At first just an unpleasant warmth, it quickly spread into an ingulfing inferno. His body became feverish, and he felt as if he'd be consumed in flames at any moment. Biting his tongue, he refused to give in... refused to admit to the sheer agony that was consuming him from the inside out.
The foul fluid spread through his arms, his chest. It spread into his neck and stomach. Fiendish fingers reached out and prodded at soft tissues; they poked at his organs. He tried to curl into the fetal position and was stopped by the apparatus. Wishing for a mercifully swift death, all he could do now was wait.
But wait for what? What was standing on the other side of this doorway opened before him? Sweet relief? Or dark agony?
The Race
Tabitha ran as hard as she could, trying to make it before they caught up with her. If they did, she was as good as dead.
How could I have been so stupid, she thought to herself. These people where not the type you normally associate with, you idiot. And now look at yourself.
She was penniless, hungry, and cold. Her last sanctuary had been a 200-year old Catholic church, but the church now lay in ruins – a bomb had brought the beautiful old building and most of a city block down to rubble. Her heart raced, her pulse pounded, and she didn’t know how much more of this she could take.
If only I had listened to him, she thought. If only I had taken David’s advice at face value instead of scoffing at him. I would not be in this mess right now.
And a mess it was. She heard hounds baying in the distance and the constant hum of suv’s getting closer. Hastily, she turned into a thickly populated forest and ran – ran for her very life.
A shot rang out through the chilly night air. “You can run, but you can’t hide, Tabby,” a voice called out. “You know we’ll find you like we found your friend Davy.” The voice was mocking, purposely trying to goad her into making a mistake. “You know, Davy’s head will look real purty hangin on my wall next to your daddy’s.”
Tabitha bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, biting back the comment she had want to throw into his face. She continued on, determined to keep her location a secret when she was so close to the border… so close to being free from their tyranny.
Thud! Her foot struck an outreaching branch, and she tumbled to the ground. Trying to move, she realized the fall had broken her leg and she could go no further. Trying to slow her erratic breathing, Tabitha laid there on the cold, hard ground and waited… waited for the men who were hunting her.
She heard them drawing closer, almost right on top of her. The dogs they were using were sniffing the air and leading the bastards right to her. Breathlessly, Tabitha waited for the moment they’d find her… the moment she would cease to exist.
“Good evening, Tabby,” the voice mockingly greeted her. “I told you that you couldn’t hide from us.” There was a pause as he let the severity of the moment wash over her. “And now you know what we have to do. Such a waste really. If you had only agreed to his terms, he’d have left you alone.”
Tabitha heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back. The barely audible click as it locked into place made her tremor with fear. The man placed his finger on the trigger and aimed, looking down. Sweat poured down Tabitha’s ashen face, despite the chill of the night. He stood there, sites locked on her for what seemed like hours even though she knew it was only moments. Then, he started to swear.
Tabitha looked at the ground and grinned. She had made it across the yellow border after all – that border that signified the end of the course – and was now free and clear. She grabbed a long, sturdy stick that had been lying next to her and got to her feet, supporting her aching leg with the stick.
“When will you ever learn, Vlad? When will you learn that things aren’t always what they appear to be?” With that, she limped off into the moonless night.
How could I have been so stupid, she thought to herself. These people where not the type you normally associate with, you idiot. And now look at yourself.
She was penniless, hungry, and cold. Her last sanctuary had been a 200-year old Catholic church, but the church now lay in ruins – a bomb had brought the beautiful old building and most of a city block down to rubble. Her heart raced, her pulse pounded, and she didn’t know how much more of this she could take.
If only I had listened to him, she thought. If only I had taken David’s advice at face value instead of scoffing at him. I would not be in this mess right now.
And a mess it was. She heard hounds baying in the distance and the constant hum of suv’s getting closer. Hastily, she turned into a thickly populated forest and ran – ran for her very life.
A shot rang out through the chilly night air. “You can run, but you can’t hide, Tabby,” a voice called out. “You know we’ll find you like we found your friend Davy.” The voice was mocking, purposely trying to goad her into making a mistake. “You know, Davy’s head will look real purty hangin on my wall next to your daddy’s.”
Tabitha bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, biting back the comment she had want to throw into his face. She continued on, determined to keep her location a secret when she was so close to the border… so close to being free from their tyranny.
Thud! Her foot struck an outreaching branch, and she tumbled to the ground. Trying to move, she realized the fall had broken her leg and she could go no further. Trying to slow her erratic breathing, Tabitha laid there on the cold, hard ground and waited… waited for the men who were hunting her.
She heard them drawing closer, almost right on top of her. The dogs they were using were sniffing the air and leading the bastards right to her. Breathlessly, Tabitha waited for the moment they’d find her… the moment she would cease to exist.
“Good evening, Tabby,” the voice mockingly greeted her. “I told you that you couldn’t hide from us.” There was a pause as he let the severity of the moment wash over her. “And now you know what we have to do. Such a waste really. If you had only agreed to his terms, he’d have left you alone.”
Tabitha heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back. The barely audible click as it locked into place made her tremor with fear. The man placed his finger on the trigger and aimed, looking down. Sweat poured down Tabitha’s ashen face, despite the chill of the night. He stood there, sites locked on her for what seemed like hours even though she knew it was only moments. Then, he started to swear.
Tabitha looked at the ground and grinned. She had made it across the yellow border after all – that border that signified the end of the course – and was now free and clear. She grabbed a long, sturdy stick that had been lying next to her and got to her feet, supporting her aching leg with the stick.
“When will you ever learn, Vlad? When will you learn that things aren’t always what they appear to be?” With that, she limped off into the moonless night.
Otherworldly Experience
Connie walked up the hill slowly, looking around her at all the strange sites. The imposing shadow rose from out of the middle of nowhere. It appeared to be a building made of a dark, soot-coloured stone and surrounded by a field of bright red roses – roses so bright and alive they seems almost… otherworldly.
She entered the building, not exactly sure where she was or what she was doing there. The cold stone seemed to breathe and pulse as if it were alive.
Connie glanced about, unsettled by the fact the strange beings moving around her acted as if it were just another ordinary day. They were all colours of the rainbow, with fins and huge, vacant eyes. The creatures moved from the entrance to the building’s elevator, never once making a sound or even acknowledging anyone else was there.
Connie’s body tingled and began to shimmer with an unknown force. It tickled and she marveled at the feeling. She felt herself rising as if her body had dissolved to mist – rising higher and higher towards the building’s roof.
As she reached the roof, Connie shuddered as one of the old passersby walked right through her. She drifted over to the edge of the building and looked out at the night. The sky was clear, moonless, and gorgeous. Stars glittered across the arc of the sky in an extravagant, misty sprawl of light. The warm wind was blowing – blowing ferociously hard – but Connie could not feel it.
Gazing out at this beautiful starscape, she became of the pinkening dawn sky. Time seemed to pass faster at this level, and she was amazed. Marveling at the coming day, that was when Connie spied it. It was a looming, inky death bag hovering over the edge of the city – moving with great speed and aimed right at the soot-coloured building.
She entered the building, not exactly sure where she was or what she was doing there. The cold stone seemed to breathe and pulse as if it were alive.
Connie glanced about, unsettled by the fact the strange beings moving around her acted as if it were just another ordinary day. They were all colours of the rainbow, with fins and huge, vacant eyes. The creatures moved from the entrance to the building’s elevator, never once making a sound or even acknowledging anyone else was there.
Connie’s body tingled and began to shimmer with an unknown force. It tickled and she marveled at the feeling. She felt herself rising as if her body had dissolved to mist – rising higher and higher towards the building’s roof.
As she reached the roof, Connie shuddered as one of the old passersby walked right through her. She drifted over to the edge of the building and looked out at the night. The sky was clear, moonless, and gorgeous. Stars glittered across the arc of the sky in an extravagant, misty sprawl of light. The warm wind was blowing – blowing ferociously hard – but Connie could not feel it.
Gazing out at this beautiful starscape, she became of the pinkening dawn sky. Time seemed to pass faster at this level, and she was amazed. Marveling at the coming day, that was when Connie spied it. It was a looming, inky death bag hovering over the edge of the city – moving with great speed and aimed right at the soot-coloured building.
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