This is for any short stories you may have written but don't have anywhere to put them. 
Have fun!
Rose stared up at the full moon lighting up the midnight sky as she felt her body quiver from the pain of taking her next breath. Blood trickled from the left corner of her mouth, running down her chin to her neck before disappearing into the gentle waves of her white hair.
The night breeze drifted past, the tall grass bowing down to the wind's gentle caress. The wind whispered in her ear, telling tales of sweet paradise. A place she could only go if she chose to leave the cruel world of the humans.
Turning her head slowly to the right, Rose could see her male companion's grey, blood stained fur waving in the wind. For a moment it seemed as though his chest rose and fell with the breath of life, but she knew it wasn't true. She had held him in her arms as the life passed from his body onto paradise.
The world began to fade as Rose felt the cold of the earth seep into the very core of her being, the precious life she had fought for so dearly, separating from her.
'Finally…I will be free…' Her wolf whispered as the starry shape of her golden furred wolf separated from the human body it had been caged in. The final breath of life, just a whisper as it passed her lips. The starry form of her wolf loped through the tall grass, coming to a pause beside the unmoving wolf form of her male companion. Sorrow seemed to fill her whole being until she thought she would surely burst. There was no soul that had separated from her companion's being.
'We will not be meeting again…' The wolf whined softly to her dearest mate. Just as easily as her wolf body separated from her, the she-wolf disappeared into the sky. The form bursting into a shimmering mist, rising into the starry night sky above.
Rose's body laid cold on the earth. Blue eyes dull and lifeless as they stared unblinking at her companion. One hand was stretched out over the earth in the direction of her mate and the other laid by her side clutching a photograph in the palm of her hand. Her beauty did not fade as her life had left her, but stayed forever frozen. No one would know how it happened. No justice would be found for the two of them.
As the golden furred wolf who had separated from Rose ran freely through the endless stars above, justice for her and her mate's death would not of pleased her. For she found that the only justice that would suffice had already been given to her. That justice was the freedom that came with the woman's death. The freedom to be.
And this was all she needed.
Have fun!
Rose stared up at the full moon lighting up the midnight sky as she felt her body quiver from the pain of taking her next breath. Blood trickled from the left corner of her mouth, running down her chin to her neck before disappearing into the gentle waves of her white hair.
The night breeze drifted past, the tall grass bowing down to the wind's gentle caress. The wind whispered in her ear, telling tales of sweet paradise. A place she could only go if she chose to leave the cruel world of the humans.
Turning her head slowly to the right, Rose could see her male companion's grey, blood stained fur waving in the wind. For a moment it seemed as though his chest rose and fell with the breath of life, but she knew it wasn't true. She had held him in her arms as the life passed from his body onto paradise.
The world began to fade as Rose felt the cold of the earth seep into the very core of her being, the precious life she had fought for so dearly, separating from her.
'Finally…I will be free…' Her wolf whispered as the starry shape of her golden furred wolf separated from the human body it had been caged in. The final breath of life, just a whisper as it passed her lips. The starry form of her wolf loped through the tall grass, coming to a pause beside the unmoving wolf form of her male companion. Sorrow seemed to fill her whole being until she thought she would surely burst. There was no soul that had separated from her companion's being.
'We will not be meeting again…' The wolf whined softly to her dearest mate. Just as easily as her wolf body separated from her, the she-wolf disappeared into the sky. The form bursting into a shimmering mist, rising into the starry night sky above.
Rose's body laid cold on the earth. Blue eyes dull and lifeless as they stared unblinking at her companion. One hand was stretched out over the earth in the direction of her mate and the other laid by her side clutching a photograph in the palm of her hand. Her beauty did not fade as her life had left her, but stayed forever frozen. No one would know how it happened. No justice would be found for the two of them.
As the golden furred wolf who had separated from Rose ran freely through the endless stars above, justice for her and her mate's death would not of pleased her. For she found that the only justice that would suffice had already been given to her. That justice was the freedom that came with the woman's death. The freedom to be.
And this was all she needed.
RawrASaurus wrote:
This is for any short stories you may have written but don't have anywhere to put them. Have fun!
Rose stared up at the full moon lighting up the midnight sky as she felt her body quiver from the pain of taking her next breath. Blood trickled from the left corner of her mouth, running down her chin to her neck before disappearing into the gentle waves of her white hair.
The night breeze drifted past, the tall grass bowing down to the wind's gentle caress. The wind whispered in her ear, telling tales of sweet paradise. A place she could only go if she chose to leave the cruel world of the humans.
Turning her head slowly to the right, Rose could see her male companion's grey, blood stained fur waving in the wind. For a moment it seemed as though his chest rose and fell with the breath of life, but she knew it wasn't true. She had held him in her arms as the life passed from his body onto paradise.
The world began to fade as Rose felt the cold of the earth seep into the very core of her being, the precious life she had fought for so dearly, separating from her.
'Finally…I will be free…' Her wolf whispered as the starry shape of her golden furred wolf separated from the human body it had been caged in. The final breath of life, just a whisper as it passed her lips. The starry form of her wolf loped through the tall grass, coming to a pause beside the unmoving wolf form of her male companion. Sorrow seemed to fill her whole being until she thought she would surely burst. There was no soul that had separated from her companion's being.
'We will not be meeting again…' The wolf whined softly to her dearest mate. Just as easily as her wolf body separated from her, the she-wolf disappeared into the sky. The form bursting into a shimmering mist, rising into the starry night sky above.
Rose's body laid cold on the earth. Blue eyes dull and lifeless as they stared unblinking at her companion. One hand was stretched out over the earth in the direction of her mate and the other laid by her side clutching a photograph in the palm of her hand. Her beauty did not fade as her life had left her, but stayed forever frozen. No one would know how it happened. No justice would be found for the two of them.
As the golden furred wolf who had separated from Rose ran freely through the endless stars above, justice for her and her mate's death would not of pleased her. For she found that the only justice that would suffice had already been given to her. That justice was the freedom that came with the woman's death. The freedom to be.
And this was all she needed.
Have fun!
Rose stared up at the full moon lighting up the midnight sky as she felt her body quiver from the pain of taking her next breath. Blood trickled from the left corner of her mouth, running down her chin to her neck before disappearing into the gentle waves of her white hair.
The night breeze drifted past, the tall grass bowing down to the wind's gentle caress. The wind whispered in her ear, telling tales of sweet paradise. A place she could only go if she chose to leave the cruel world of the humans.
Turning her head slowly to the right, Rose could see her male companion's grey, blood stained fur waving in the wind. For a moment it seemed as though his chest rose and fell with the breath of life, but she knew it wasn't true. She had held him in her arms as the life passed from his body onto paradise.
The world began to fade as Rose felt the cold of the earth seep into the very core of her being, the precious life she had fought for so dearly, separating from her.
'Finally…I will be free…' Her wolf whispered as the starry shape of her golden furred wolf separated from the human body it had been caged in. The final breath of life, just a whisper as it passed her lips. The starry form of her wolf loped through the tall grass, coming to a pause beside the unmoving wolf form of her male companion. Sorrow seemed to fill her whole being until she thought she would surely burst. There was no soul that had separated from her companion's being.
'We will not be meeting again…' The wolf whined softly to her dearest mate. Just as easily as her wolf body separated from her, the she-wolf disappeared into the sky. The form bursting into a shimmering mist, rising into the starry night sky above.
Rose's body laid cold on the earth. Blue eyes dull and lifeless as they stared unblinking at her companion. One hand was stretched out over the earth in the direction of her mate and the other laid by her side clutching a photograph in the palm of her hand. Her beauty did not fade as her life had left her, but stayed forever frozen. No one would know how it happened. No justice would be found for the two of them.
As the golden furred wolf who had separated from Rose ran freely through the endless stars above, justice for her and her mate's death would not of pleased her. For she found that the only justice that would suffice had already been given to her. That justice was the freedom that came with the woman's death. The freedom to be.
And this was all she needed.
That's really pretty.
I pull into the gas station at 4:00 A.M. I get out the black card for food, and the blue card for gas.
Okay. Milk, paper towels, money order, phone charger. Milk paper towels, money order, phone charger.
I walk in and haul a gallon of milk out of the bottom of the refrigerated section. It's heavy.
Maybe I can just put this over... I walk up to the empty counter and place the milk down on it.
"I'm just gonna leave this here, I've got more stuff," I say to the thin, red-headed girl behind the counter, who's turned away from me, stocking the cigarette shelves.
"Sure," she says, turning her head towards me, and giving me a smile. Her blue eyes sparkle. Red lipstick frames her bright teeth and smile lines accent the eyes. Her pale skin, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, seems so delicate, almost translucent. But her eyes and her smile are young and vivacious and alive. She turns back to stock the cigarette shelves.
I walk away, and grab the paper towels.
Milk, paper towels...
Milk paper towels, money order...
What was that other thing?
I give up, walk back to the counter. The girl turns back around, and sees the paper towels.
"Ah," she says, nodding. "Is that all for you?"
"Um... yeah," I say. "There was more, but...I need to start making a list..."
She looks down, smiling and nodding. She relates.
A song comes on the speaker as she rings up my two items.
"Oh! I also need a money order!" I add. "For $300."
"Sure," she says, her clear blue eyes glancing up at me. From here, I notice the black mascara and the silver eyeshadow.
I frown and look up at the ceiling. "Is this 'The Sound of Silence'?" I say, baffled. The poetic lyrics blend with harsh electric guitar riffs.
The red-headed girl looks up from bagging my items and her eyes light up.
"It is! Disturbed remade it," she laughs and looks at me. "I actually like their version better than the original," she opines.
"That's interesting," I say, listening. "Yeah, they do it pretty decently."
She rings up my money order and starts printing it Her phone chimes. I watch her as she picks it up off another counter and checks it while the money order is printing.
"It's my husband," she states, smiling. She looks up at me. "He works down street at Valero, overnight too."
"Oooh...cool," I exclaim, like it's the most interesting thing I've heard all day. I just want to keep talking to her, I don't care about what.
She smiles, texting back.
"We've done this for years. We've got it down," she says.
"I bet it helps a lot, because y'all sleep at the same time," I offer.
"Exactly!" she says, looking at me as if I am the only one who has ever figured this out, and, for a moment, we catch each other's eyes.
"Here's your money order," she says and hands it over.
"Thanks!" I say. "Now I'm going to go download The Sound of Silence, by Disturbed," I joke.
She laughs. It's beautiful.
"See you next time," she says, going back to stocking the f
"Yeah. I'll see you," I answer. I've never seen her before, and I'm never going to see her again.
Every employee says "see you next time," to every customer, every time they leave. Literally. It's policy.
Doesn't matter. Makes my heart race.
I get out to the car, smiling, and I get in.
I realize that I forgot the phone charger. And the gas.
I think about going back in, but that was the perfect ending to the perfect conversation. Anything more will be awkward. I don't go back.
It's not my fault this time, I think, backing out of the parking space. It was the pretty girl. The pretty girl got me. And they'll always get me.
Okay. Milk, paper towels, money order, phone charger. Milk paper towels, money order, phone charger.
I walk in and haul a gallon of milk out of the bottom of the refrigerated section. It's heavy.
Maybe I can just put this over... I walk up to the empty counter and place the milk down on it.
"I'm just gonna leave this here, I've got more stuff," I say to the thin, red-headed girl behind the counter, who's turned away from me, stocking the cigarette shelves.
"Sure," she says, turning her head towards me, and giving me a smile. Her blue eyes sparkle. Red lipstick frames her bright teeth and smile lines accent the eyes. Her pale skin, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, seems so delicate, almost translucent. But her eyes and her smile are young and vivacious and alive. She turns back to stock the cigarette shelves.
I walk away, and grab the paper towels.
Milk, paper towels...
Milk paper towels, money order...
What was that other thing?
I give up, walk back to the counter. The girl turns back around, and sees the paper towels.
"Ah," she says, nodding. "Is that all for you?"
"Um... yeah," I say. "There was more, but...I need to start making a list..."
She looks down, smiling and nodding. She relates.
A song comes on the speaker as she rings up my two items.
"Oh! I also need a money order!" I add. "For $300."
"Sure," she says, her clear blue eyes glancing up at me. From here, I notice the black mascara and the silver eyeshadow.
I frown and look up at the ceiling. "Is this 'The Sound of Silence'?" I say, baffled. The poetic lyrics blend with harsh electric guitar riffs.
The red-headed girl looks up from bagging my items and her eyes light up.
"It is! Disturbed remade it," she laughs and looks at me. "I actually like their version better than the original," she opines.
"That's interesting," I say, listening. "Yeah, they do it pretty decently."
She rings up my money order and starts printing it Her phone chimes. I watch her as she picks it up off another counter and checks it while the money order is printing.
"It's my husband," she states, smiling. She looks up at me. "He works down street at Valero, overnight too."
"Oooh...cool," I exclaim, like it's the most interesting thing I've heard all day. I just want to keep talking to her, I don't care about what.
She smiles, texting back.
"We've done this for years. We've got it down," she says.
"I bet it helps a lot, because y'all sleep at the same time," I offer.
"Exactly!" she says, looking at me as if I am the only one who has ever figured this out, and, for a moment, we catch each other's eyes.
"Here's your money order," she says and hands it over.
"Thanks!" I say. "Now I'm going to go download The Sound of Silence, by Disturbed," I joke.
She laughs. It's beautiful.
"See you next time," she says, going back to stocking the f
"Yeah. I'll see you," I answer. I've never seen her before, and I'm never going to see her again.
Every employee says "see you next time," to every customer, every time they leave. Literally. It's policy.
Doesn't matter. Makes my heart race.
I get out to the car, smiling, and I get in.
I realize that I forgot the phone charger. And the gas.
I think about going back in, but that was the perfect ending to the perfect conversation. Anything more will be awkward. I don't go back.
It's not my fault this time, I think, backing out of the parking space. It was the pretty girl. The pretty girl got me. And they'll always get me.
Abigail_Austin wrote:
I pull into the gas station at 4:00 A.M. I get out the black card for food, and the blue card for gas.
Okay. Milk, paper towels, money order, phone charger. Milk paper towels, money order, phone charger.
I walk in and haul a gallon of milk out of the bottom of the refrigerated section. It's heavy.
Maybe I can just put this over... I walk up to the empty counter and place the milk down on it.
"I'm just gonna leave this here, I've got more stuff," I say to the thin, red-headed girl behind the counter, who's turned away from me, stocking the cigarette shelves.
"Sure," she says, turning her head towards me, and giving me a smile. Her blue eyes sparkle. Red lipstick frames her bright teeth and smile lines accent the eyes. Her pale skin, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, seems so delicate, almost translucent. But her eyes and her smile are young and vivacious and alive. She turns back to stock the cigarette shelves.
I walk away, and grab the paper towels.
Milk, paper towels...
Milk paper towels, money order...
What was that other thing?
I give up, walk back to the counter. The girl turns back around, and sees the paper towels.
"Ah," she says, nodding. "Is that all for you?"
"Um... yeah," I say. "There was more, but...I need to start making a list..."
She looks down, smiling and nodding. She relates.
A song comes on the speaker as she rings up my two items.
"Oh! I also need a money order!" I add. "For $300."
"Sure," she says, her clear blue eyes glancing up at me. From here, I notice the black mascara and the silver eyeshadow.
I frown and look up at the ceiling. "Is this 'The Sound of Silence'?" I say, baffled. The poetic lyrics blend with harsh electric guitar riffs.
The red-headed girl looks up from bagging my items and her eyes light up.
"It is! Disturbed remade it," she laughs and looks at me. "I actually like their version better than the original," she opines.
"That's interesting," I say, listening. "Yeah, they do it pretty decently."
She rings up my money order and starts printing it Her phone chimes. I watch her as she picks it up off another counter and checks it while the money order is printing.
"It's my husband," she states, smiling. She looks up at me. "He works down street at Valero, overnight too."
"Oooh...cool," I exclaim, like it's the most interesting thing I've heard all day. I just want to keep talking to her, I don't care about what.
She smiles, texting back.
"We've done this for years. We've got it down," she says.
"I bet it helps a lot, because y'all sleep at the same time," I offer.
"Exactly!" she says, looking at me as if I am the only one who has ever figured this out, and, for a moment, we catch each other's eyes.
"Here's your money order," she says and hands it over.
"Thanks!" I say. "Now I'm going to go download The Sound of Silence, by Disturbed," I joke.
She laughs. It's beautiful.
"See you next time," she says, going back to stocking the f
"Yeah. I'll see you," I answer. I've never seen her before, and I'm never going to see her again.
Every employee says "see you next time," to every customer, every time they leave. Literally. It's policy.
Doesn't matter. Makes my heart race.
I get out to the car, smiling, and I get in.
I realize that I forgot the phone charger. And the gas.
I think about going back in, but that was the perfect ending to the perfect conversation. Anything more will be awkward. I don't go back.
It's not my fault this time, I think, backing out of the parking space. It was the pretty girl. The pretty girl got me. And they’ll always get me.
Okay. Milk, paper towels, money order, phone charger. Milk paper towels, money order, phone charger.
I walk in and haul a gallon of milk out of the bottom of the refrigerated section. It's heavy.
Maybe I can just put this over... I walk up to the empty counter and place the milk down on it.
"I'm just gonna leave this here, I've got more stuff," I say to the thin, red-headed girl behind the counter, who's turned away from me, stocking the cigarette shelves.
"Sure," she says, turning her head towards me, and giving me a smile. Her blue eyes sparkle. Red lipstick frames her bright teeth and smile lines accent the eyes. Her pale skin, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, seems so delicate, almost translucent. But her eyes and her smile are young and vivacious and alive. She turns back to stock the cigarette shelves.
I walk away, and grab the paper towels.
Milk, paper towels...
Milk paper towels, money order...
What was that other thing?
I give up, walk back to the counter. The girl turns back around, and sees the paper towels.
"Ah," she says, nodding. "Is that all for you?"
"Um... yeah," I say. "There was more, but...I need to start making a list..."
She looks down, smiling and nodding. She relates.
A song comes on the speaker as she rings up my two items.
"Oh! I also need a money order!" I add. "For $300."
"Sure," she says, her clear blue eyes glancing up at me. From here, I notice the black mascara and the silver eyeshadow.
I frown and look up at the ceiling. "Is this 'The Sound of Silence'?" I say, baffled. The poetic lyrics blend with harsh electric guitar riffs.
The red-headed girl looks up from bagging my items and her eyes light up.
"It is! Disturbed remade it," she laughs and looks at me. "I actually like their version better than the original," she opines.
"That's interesting," I say, listening. "Yeah, they do it pretty decently."
She rings up my money order and starts printing it Her phone chimes. I watch her as she picks it up off another counter and checks it while the money order is printing.
"It's my husband," she states, smiling. She looks up at me. "He works down street at Valero, overnight too."
"Oooh...cool," I exclaim, like it's the most interesting thing I've heard all day. I just want to keep talking to her, I don't care about what.
She smiles, texting back.
"We've done this for years. We've got it down," she says.
"I bet it helps a lot, because y'all sleep at the same time," I offer.
"Exactly!" she says, looking at me as if I am the only one who has ever figured this out, and, for a moment, we catch each other's eyes.
"Here's your money order," she says and hands it over.
"Thanks!" I say. "Now I'm going to go download The Sound of Silence, by Disturbed," I joke.
She laughs. It's beautiful.
"See you next time," she says, going back to stocking the f
"Yeah. I'll see you," I answer. I've never seen her before, and I'm never going to see her again.
Every employee says "see you next time," to every customer, every time they leave. Literally. It's policy.
Doesn't matter. Makes my heart race.
I get out to the car, smiling, and I get in.
I realize that I forgot the phone charger. And the gas.
I think about going back in, but that was the perfect ending to the perfect conversation. Anything more will be awkward. I don't go back.
It's not my fault this time, I think, backing out of the parking space. It was the pretty girl. The pretty girl got me. And they’ll always get me.
I love it
Emo wrote:
Abigail_Austin wrote:
I pull into the gas station at 4:00 A.M. I get out the black card for food, and the blue card for gas.
Okay. Milk, paper towels, money order, phone charger. Milk paper towels, money order, phone charger.
I walk in and haul a gallon of milk out of the bottom of the refrigerated section. It's heavy.
Maybe I can just put this over... I walk up to the empty counter and place the milk down on it.
"I'm just gonna leave this here, I've got more stuff," I say to the thin, red-headed girl behind the counter, who's turned away from me, stocking the cigarette shelves.
"Sure," she says, turning her head towards me, and giving me a smile. Her blue eyes sparkle. Red lipstick frames her bright teeth and smile lines accent the eyes. Her pale skin, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, seems so delicate, almost translucent. But her eyes and her smile are young and vivacious and alive. She turns back to stock the cigarette shelves.
I walk away, and grab the paper towels.
Milk, paper towels...
Milk paper towels, money order...
What was that other thing?
I give up, walk back to the counter. The girl turns back around, and sees the paper towels.
"Ah," she says, nodding. "Is that all for you?"
"Um... yeah," I say. "There was more, but...I need to start making a list..."
She looks down, smiling and nodding. She relates.
A song comes on the speaker as she rings up my two items.
"Oh! I also need a money order!" I add. "For $300."
"Sure," she says, her clear blue eyes glancing up at me. From here, I notice the black mascara and the silver eyeshadow.
I frown and look up at the ceiling. "Is this 'The Sound of Silence'?" I say, baffled. The poetic lyrics blend with harsh electric guitar riffs.
The red-headed girl looks up from bagging my items and her eyes light up.
"It is! Disturbed remade it," she laughs and looks at me. "I actually like their version better than the original," she opines.
"That's interesting," I say, listening. "Yeah, they do it pretty decently."
She rings up my money order and starts printing it Her phone chimes. I watch her as she picks it up off another counter and checks it while the money order is printing.
"It's my husband," she states, smiling. She looks up at me. "He works down street at Valero, overnight too."
"Oooh...cool," I exclaim, like it's the most interesting thing I've heard all day. I just want to keep talking to her, I don't care about what.
She smiles, texting back.
"We've done this for years. We've got it down," she says.
"I bet it helps a lot, because y'all sleep at the same time," I offer.
"Exactly!" she says, looking at me as if I am the only one who has ever figured this out, and, for a moment, we catch each other's eyes.
"Here's your money order," she says and hands it over.
"Thanks!" I say. "Now I'm going to go download The Sound of Silence, by Disturbed," I joke.
She laughs. It's beautiful.
"See you next time," she says, going back to stocking the f
"Yeah. I'll see you," I answer. I've never seen her before, and I'm never going to see her again.
Every employee says "see you next time," to every customer, every time they leave. Literally. It's policy.
Doesn't matter. Makes my heart race.
I get out to the car, smiling, and I get in.
I realize that I forgot the phone charger. And the gas.
I think about going back in, but that was the perfect ending to the perfect conversation. Anything more will be awkward. I don't go back.
It's not my fault this time, I think, backing out of the parking space. It was the pretty girl. The pretty girl got me. And they’ll always get me.
Okay. Milk, paper towels, money order, phone charger. Milk paper towels, money order, phone charger.
I walk in and haul a gallon of milk out of the bottom of the refrigerated section. It's heavy.
Maybe I can just put this over... I walk up to the empty counter and place the milk down on it.
"I'm just gonna leave this here, I've got more stuff," I say to the thin, red-headed girl behind the counter, who's turned away from me, stocking the cigarette shelves.
"Sure," she says, turning her head towards me, and giving me a smile. Her blue eyes sparkle. Red lipstick frames her bright teeth and smile lines accent the eyes. Her pale skin, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, seems so delicate, almost translucent. But her eyes and her smile are young and vivacious and alive. She turns back to stock the cigarette shelves.
I walk away, and grab the paper towels.
Milk, paper towels...
Milk paper towels, money order...
What was that other thing?
I give up, walk back to the counter. The girl turns back around, and sees the paper towels.
"Ah," she says, nodding. "Is that all for you?"
"Um... yeah," I say. "There was more, but...I need to start making a list..."
She looks down, smiling and nodding. She relates.
A song comes on the speaker as she rings up my two items.
"Oh! I also need a money order!" I add. "For $300."
"Sure," she says, her clear blue eyes glancing up at me. From here, I notice the black mascara and the silver eyeshadow.
I frown and look up at the ceiling. "Is this 'The Sound of Silence'?" I say, baffled. The poetic lyrics blend with harsh electric guitar riffs.
The red-headed girl looks up from bagging my items and her eyes light up.
"It is! Disturbed remade it," she laughs and looks at me. "I actually like their version better than the original," she opines.
"That's interesting," I say, listening. "Yeah, they do it pretty decently."
She rings up my money order and starts printing it Her phone chimes. I watch her as she picks it up off another counter and checks it while the money order is printing.
"It's my husband," she states, smiling. She looks up at me. "He works down street at Valero, overnight too."
"Oooh...cool," I exclaim, like it's the most interesting thing I've heard all day. I just want to keep talking to her, I don't care about what.
She smiles, texting back.
"We've done this for years. We've got it down," she says.
"I bet it helps a lot, because y'all sleep at the same time," I offer.
"Exactly!" she says, looking at me as if I am the only one who has ever figured this out, and, for a moment, we catch each other's eyes.
"Here's your money order," she says and hands it over.
"Thanks!" I say. "Now I'm going to go download The Sound of Silence, by Disturbed," I joke.
She laughs. It's beautiful.
"See you next time," she says, going back to stocking the f
"Yeah. I'll see you," I answer. I've never seen her before, and I'm never going to see her again.
Every employee says "see you next time," to every customer, every time they leave. Literally. It's policy.
Doesn't matter. Makes my heart race.
I get out to the car, smiling, and I get in.
I realize that I forgot the phone charger. And the gas.
I think about going back in, but that was the perfect ending to the perfect conversation. Anything more will be awkward. I don't go back.
It's not my fault this time, I think, backing out of the parking space. It was the pretty girl. The pretty girl got me. And they’ll always get me.
I love it
Aww. Thanks Emo!
It was a hot day on the desert planet of Orken. The blue sun scorched the ever rolling dunes turning the top layer of sand black, every once in a while a welcome breeze would gust across the sand mixing the black into the other sand. Strange wheezing sounds could be heard coming from behind one of the larger dunes, suddenly, a shape burst to the top of the dune with a whoop then curled into a ball and rolled down onto the other side. The almost peaceful scene had been interrupted by this rambunctious Mennek-Skelig. These strange creatures were one of the two living creatures that lived on this planet, they were also much smarter than the other creature, the Xuls, and only use it as a pack animal.
This young Mennek-Skelig is named Zvonko, he just remembered that today is his mother, Carme’s fodselsdag, or birthday. Zvonko wanted to make his mother extra happy today because today was moving day, and Carme also was not very high in the tribe so she would not get many birthday wishes or lyonske today. At the moment Zvonko seems to be searching through the sand for something, maybe he plans on giving Carme a flower since her name means garden. At the top of the dune we can see a girl a few years older than Zvonko looking at him with a smirk on her squarish face. This girl is Yiskah and her name literally means snob, which is exactly what she is. Her father is the stjerne, or chief of the Solen Stammen and she liked to remind everyone, all of the time.
As Yiskah sneers down at him Zvonko suddenly starts to look scared, he appears to be sinking into a pit of quicksand. Seeing her job is done Yiskah hurries down the backside of the dune before Zvonko notices she is there. Soon cries for help resound on the dunes surrounding Zvonko, “bistand, bistand” he yells in the language of the Mennek-Skelig, yet no-one comes to help young Zvonko. A peek over the dune reveals a large wandering desert with no sign of the Solen Stammen except a wandering line growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Zvonko is alone and sinking fast into the raskjord he has fallen into. Soon the only thing to be seen is his four glowing eyes, large flat nose, and small mouth, sticking above the quicksand.
Once more he dejectedly yells “bistend, bistend” before his mouth sinks beneath the sand also, he closes his eyes ready to give up but this time he is answered with “Vi er til stede, vi er til stede!” or “We are here, we are here!”. HIs four eyes open in surprise and he struggles to get his mouth above the sand long enough to say “Borte stede, borte stede!”. The sound of hurrying feet and whoops break the peaceful air once more, but this time they are wanted. Two girls ran over the dune holding sticks and ropes, they had seen Zvonko go over the dune but had not noticed his absence until they counted the number their group, Raisa, the older one, knowing there was one missing figured out that it was Zvonko and had rushed back to save him, the two hero’s were just in time.
First they instructed Zvonko to start pushing back, like he was laying down on the raskjord, then they used the stick and rope like a fishing pole and threw the rope out to Zvonko, then both girls worked together to pull him to solid sand. When Zvonko was out he embraced both girls and cried over and over “Takk skal du ha, takk skal du ha!”, “thank you, thank you!”.
Random story I wrote a while back and found today xD
This young Mennek-Skelig is named Zvonko, he just remembered that today is his mother, Carme’s fodselsdag, or birthday. Zvonko wanted to make his mother extra happy today because today was moving day, and Carme also was not very high in the tribe so she would not get many birthday wishes or lyonske today. At the moment Zvonko seems to be searching through the sand for something, maybe he plans on giving Carme a flower since her name means garden. At the top of the dune we can see a girl a few years older than Zvonko looking at him with a smirk on her squarish face. This girl is Yiskah and her name literally means snob, which is exactly what she is. Her father is the stjerne, or chief of the Solen Stammen and she liked to remind everyone, all of the time.
As Yiskah sneers down at him Zvonko suddenly starts to look scared, he appears to be sinking into a pit of quicksand. Seeing her job is done Yiskah hurries down the backside of the dune before Zvonko notices she is there. Soon cries for help resound on the dunes surrounding Zvonko, “bistand, bistand” he yells in the language of the Mennek-Skelig, yet no-one comes to help young Zvonko. A peek over the dune reveals a large wandering desert with no sign of the Solen Stammen except a wandering line growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Zvonko is alone and sinking fast into the raskjord he has fallen into. Soon the only thing to be seen is his four glowing eyes, large flat nose, and small mouth, sticking above the quicksand.
Once more he dejectedly yells “bistend, bistend” before his mouth sinks beneath the sand also, he closes his eyes ready to give up but this time he is answered with “Vi er til stede, vi er til stede!” or “We are here, we are here!”. HIs four eyes open in surprise and he struggles to get his mouth above the sand long enough to say “Borte stede, borte stede!”. The sound of hurrying feet and whoops break the peaceful air once more, but this time they are wanted. Two girls ran over the dune holding sticks and ropes, they had seen Zvonko go over the dune but had not noticed his absence until they counted the number their group, Raisa, the older one, knowing there was one missing figured out that it was Zvonko and had rushed back to save him, the two hero’s were just in time.
First they instructed Zvonko to start pushing back, like he was laying down on the raskjord, then they used the stick and rope like a fishing pole and threw the rope out to Zvonko, then both girls worked together to pull him to solid sand. When Zvonko was out he embraced both girls and cried over and over “Takk skal du ha, takk skal du ha!”, “thank you, thank you!”.
Random story I wrote a while back and found today xD
Emo wrote:
It was a hot day on the desert planet of Orken. The blue sun scorched the ever rolling dunes turning the top layer of sand black, every once in a while a welcome breeze would gust across the sand mixing the black into the other sand. Strange wheezing sounds could be heard coming from behind one of the larger dunes, suddenly, a shape burst to the top of the dune with a whoop then curled into a ball and rolled down onto the other side. The almost peaceful scene had been interrupted by this rambunctious Mennek-Skelig. These strange creatures were one of the two living creatures that lived on this planet, they were also much smarter than the other creature, the Xuls, and only use it as a pack animal.
This young Mennek-Skelig is named Zvonko, he just remembered that today is his mother, Carme’s fodselsdag, or birthday. Zvonko wanted to make his mother extra happy today because today was moving day, and Carme also was not very high in the tribe so she would not get many birthday wishes or lyonske today. At the moment Zvonko seems to be searching through the sand for something, maybe he plans on giving Carme a flower since her name means garden. At the top of the dune we can see a girl a few years older than Zvonko looking at him with a smirk on her squarish face. This girl is Yiskah and her name literally means snob, which is exactly what she is. Her father is the stjerne, or chief of the Solen Stammen and she liked to remind everyone, all of the time.
As Yiskah sneers down at him Zvonko suddenly starts to look scared, he appears to be sinking into a pit of quicksand. Seeing her job is done Yiskah hurries down the backside of the dune before Zvonko notices she is there. Soon cries for help resound on the dunes surrounding Zvonko, “bistand, bistand” he yells in the language of the Mennek-Skelig, yet no-one comes to help young Zvonko. A peek over the dune reveals a large wandering desert with no sign of the Solen Stammen except a wandering line growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Zvonko is alone and sinking fast into the raskjord he has fallen into. Soon the only thing to be seen is his four glowing eyes, large flat nose, and small mouth, sticking above the quicksand.
Once more he dejectedly yells “bistend, bistend” before his mouth sinks beneath the sand also, he closes his eyes ready to give up but this time he is answered with “Vi er til stede, vi er til stede!” or “We are here, we are here!”. HIs four eyes open in surprise and he struggles to get his mouth above the sand long enough to say “Borte stede, borte stede!”. The sound of hurrying feet and whoops break the peaceful air once more, but this time they are wanted. Two girls ran over the dune holding sticks and ropes, they had seen Zvonko go over the dune but had not noticed his absence until they counted the number their group, Raisa, the older one, knowing there was one missing figured out that it was Zvonko and had rushed back to save him, the two hero’s were just in time.
First they instructed Zvonko to start pushing back, like he was laying down on the raskjord, then they used the stick and rope like a fishing pole and threw the rope out to Zvonko, then both girls worked together to pull him to solid sand. When Zvonko was out he embraced both girls and cried over and over “Takk skal du ha, takk skal du ha!”, “thank you, thank you!”.
Random story I wrote a while back and found today xD
This young Mennek-Skelig is named Zvonko, he just remembered that today is his mother, Carme’s fodselsdag, or birthday. Zvonko wanted to make his mother extra happy today because today was moving day, and Carme also was not very high in the tribe so she would not get many birthday wishes or lyonske today. At the moment Zvonko seems to be searching through the sand for something, maybe he plans on giving Carme a flower since her name means garden. At the top of the dune we can see a girl a few years older than Zvonko looking at him with a smirk on her squarish face. This girl is Yiskah and her name literally means snob, which is exactly what she is. Her father is the stjerne, or chief of the Solen Stammen and she liked to remind everyone, all of the time.
As Yiskah sneers down at him Zvonko suddenly starts to look scared, he appears to be sinking into a pit of quicksand. Seeing her job is done Yiskah hurries down the backside of the dune before Zvonko notices she is there. Soon cries for help resound on the dunes surrounding Zvonko, “bistand, bistand” he yells in the language of the Mennek-Skelig, yet no-one comes to help young Zvonko. A peek over the dune reveals a large wandering desert with no sign of the Solen Stammen except a wandering line growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Zvonko is alone and sinking fast into the raskjord he has fallen into. Soon the only thing to be seen is his four glowing eyes, large flat nose, and small mouth, sticking above the quicksand.
Once more he dejectedly yells “bistend, bistend” before his mouth sinks beneath the sand also, he closes his eyes ready to give up but this time he is answered with “Vi er til stede, vi er til stede!” or “We are here, we are here!”. HIs four eyes open in surprise and he struggles to get his mouth above the sand long enough to say “Borte stede, borte stede!”. The sound of hurrying feet and whoops break the peaceful air once more, but this time they are wanted. Two girls ran over the dune holding sticks and ropes, they had seen Zvonko go over the dune but had not noticed his absence until they counted the number their group, Raisa, the older one, knowing there was one missing figured out that it was Zvonko and had rushed back to save him, the two hero’s were just in time.
First they instructed Zvonko to start pushing back, like he was laying down on the raskjord, then they used the stick and rope like a fishing pole and threw the rope out to Zvonko, then both girls worked together to pull him to solid sand. When Zvonko was out he embraced both girls and cried over and over “Takk skal du ha, takk skal du ha!”, “thank you, thank you!”.
Random story I wrote a while back and found today xD
This is really good! *impressed*
Abigail_Austin wrote:
This is really good! *impressed*
heh...thanks
The ‘alien’ language is actually Norwegian and the words mean basically exactly what they are saying (at least according to google translate xD)
Most of my short stories are around 10k words so they'd be way to long to post here, but I'll post a snippet from a story of mine.
“We're in this together,” Gilda said softly, and reached over to touch the hand Jax didn't have on the steering wheel. Her skin was soft, and much warmer than any humans.
She was still thinking about the kiss they had shared in the road about forty miles back. It had been unexpected, but not unwanted. When she looked at Jax, her heart beat faster in her chest, and it wasn't in anxiety like it might have been a week before. There was no doubt that there was an attraction there. Jax was bad ***, and gorgeous, even when she was splattered with blood and her red hair was a messy around her slender face.
It wasn't love. Love didn't happen in two weeks; but, it was something more than friendship, and a step above crush. The fact that Jax had been the one to save her five hundred years before, and now they were sitting together in a car, running from capture, racing to save Noelle, it wasn't a coincidence. Gilda didn't believe in happy accidents. As a witch she had always believed things happened for a reason, and while your actions could influence the future, there were certain pin points of your fate that would happen no matter which path you took. Death being one of them. Gilda felt meeting Jax, was also one of those things. For herself, and Noelle both.
Jax herself had never believed in fate, she saw death as something capable of escaping, as she'd escaped it many times. To her, if she was truly meant to die, it would have happened already. After all, she was over five hundred years old. However, for the briefest moment when she looked at Gilda, thought about Noelle, she knew she was supposed to be there. Whether it was destiny, or just the best option, she didn't care – so long as she was in fact there.
“We're in this together,” Gilda said softly, and reached over to touch the hand Jax didn't have on the steering wheel. Her skin was soft, and much warmer than any humans.
She was still thinking about the kiss they had shared in the road about forty miles back. It had been unexpected, but not unwanted. When she looked at Jax, her heart beat faster in her chest, and it wasn't in anxiety like it might have been a week before. There was no doubt that there was an attraction there. Jax was bad ***, and gorgeous, even when she was splattered with blood and her red hair was a messy around her slender face.
It wasn't love. Love didn't happen in two weeks; but, it was something more than friendship, and a step above crush. The fact that Jax had been the one to save her five hundred years before, and now they were sitting together in a car, running from capture, racing to save Noelle, it wasn't a coincidence. Gilda didn't believe in happy accidents. As a witch she had always believed things happened for a reason, and while your actions could influence the future, there were certain pin points of your fate that would happen no matter which path you took. Death being one of them. Gilda felt meeting Jax, was also one of those things. For herself, and Noelle both.
Jax herself had never believed in fate, she saw death as something capable of escaping, as she'd escaped it many times. To her, if she was truly meant to die, it would have happened already. After all, she was over five hundred years old. However, for the briefest moment when she looked at Gilda, thought about Noelle, she knew she was supposed to be there. Whether it was destiny, or just the best option, she didn't care – so long as she was in fact there.
damnationfromafar wrote:
Most of my short stories are around 10k words so they'd be way to long to post here, but I'll post a snippet from a story of mine.
“We're in this together,” Gilda said softly, and reached over to touch the hand Jax didn't have on the steering wheel. Her skin was soft, and much warmer than any humans.
She was still thinking about the kiss they had shared in the road about forty miles back. It had been unexpected, but not unwanted. When she looked at Jax, her heart beat faster in her chest, and it wasn't in anxiety like it might have been a week before. There was no doubt that there was an attraction there. Jax was bad ***, and gorgeous, even when she was splattered with blood and her red hair was a messy around her slender face.
It wasn't love. Love didn't happen in two weeks; but, it was something more than friendship, and a step above crush. The fact that Jax had been the one to save her five hundred years before, and now they were sitting together in a car, running from capture, racing to save Noelle, it wasn't a coincidence. Gilda didn't believe in happy accidents. As a witch she had always believed things happened for a reason, and while your actions could influence the future, there were certain pin points of your fate that would happen no matter which path you took. Death being one of them. Gilda felt meeting Jax, was also one of those things. For herself, and Noelle both.
Jax herself had never believed in fate, she saw death as something capable of escaping, as she'd escaped it many times. To her, if she was truly meant to die, it would have happened already. After all, she was over five hundred years old. However, for the briefest moment when she looked at Gilda, thought about Noelle, she knew she was supposed to be there. Whether it was destiny, or just the best option, she didn't care – so long as she was in fact there.
“We're in this together,” Gilda said softly, and reached over to touch the hand Jax didn't have on the steering wheel. Her skin was soft, and much warmer than any humans.
She was still thinking about the kiss they had shared in the road about forty miles back. It had been unexpected, but not unwanted. When she looked at Jax, her heart beat faster in her chest, and it wasn't in anxiety like it might have been a week before. There was no doubt that there was an attraction there. Jax was bad ***, and gorgeous, even when she was splattered with blood and her red hair was a messy around her slender face.
It wasn't love. Love didn't happen in two weeks; but, it was something more than friendship, and a step above crush. The fact that Jax had been the one to save her five hundred years before, and now they were sitting together in a car, running from capture, racing to save Noelle, it wasn't a coincidence. Gilda didn't believe in happy accidents. As a witch she had always believed things happened for a reason, and while your actions could influence the future, there were certain pin points of your fate that would happen no matter which path you took. Death being one of them. Gilda felt meeting Jax, was also one of those things. For herself, and Noelle both.
Jax herself had never believed in fate, she saw death as something capable of escaping, as she'd escaped it many times. To her, if she was truly meant to die, it would have happened already. After all, she was over five hundred years old. However, for the briefest moment when she looked at Gilda, thought about Noelle, she knew she was supposed to be there. Whether it was destiny, or just the best option, she didn't care – so long as she was in fact there.
Hot stuff 🔥
I struggle with the same sort of stuff as damnationfromafar....my short stories can be a bit too long. Or mine aren't even short stories... 
So, here's an excerpt from a a story I started writing and then gave up on:
She could see nothing.
Trapped in a blackout. How many times had she been warned not to wander into one? More than enough times. But here she was, stuck in one of the dreaded pits. It wasn’t entirely her fault, though. Night had fallen, and the röndin ore had shut down, leaving her to stumble around aimlessly down the paths, until she tripped into the darkest void yet.
She couldn’t tell which way she’d come. That was the worst part of it. If it had been a simple, straight path, she could just walk backwards until her sight adjusted. But, no. Her luck just happened to be tumbling down a hole, rolling deep into the shadows below.
It angered her, in a way. She usually wasn’t so careless; always back before the röndin ore dimmed, back a good time before the gates closed. Not once had she even come home with a scratch. Now she was stuck in every Searcher’s nightmare, a cut on her elbow and knees, winded, lying on her own in a blackout.
Air struggled to refill her lungs. Loud, rasping wheezes were swallowed by the dark. She had to stop the noises, she knew. The Avgrunn would hear her, if they hadn’t already.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She thought with each rattling breath. She’d gotten too carried away. The Heart. It was right there. Right within her grasp. If she’d paid attention, she could have gotten what she wanted most: to leave this God-forsaken place, with enough money to fix all her problems.
Slowly, it became easier to breathe. She rolled onto her stomach, peering in vain into the gloom. There was nothing there - at least, from what she could tell. She couldn’t see her hand, even though it was just centimeters away from her face. But if any Avgrunn were here, it would have attacked by now.
It’s abandoned. That’s all. You’re safe, she reassured herself. Just rest, and tomorrow you can get out of here.
She fell asleep with that on her mind.
***
Something wet hit her cheek.
Her eyes flew open. For a moment, she wondered where she was. Then it all came rushing back to her.
This time, hot, putrid breath hit her neck.
She froze.
Avgrunn.
So, here's an excerpt from a a story I started writing and then gave up on:
She could see nothing.
Trapped in a blackout. How many times had she been warned not to wander into one? More than enough times. But here she was, stuck in one of the dreaded pits. It wasn’t entirely her fault, though. Night had fallen, and the röndin ore had shut down, leaving her to stumble around aimlessly down the paths, until she tripped into the darkest void yet.
She couldn’t tell which way she’d come. That was the worst part of it. If it had been a simple, straight path, she could just walk backwards until her sight adjusted. But, no. Her luck just happened to be tumbling down a hole, rolling deep into the shadows below.
It angered her, in a way. She usually wasn’t so careless; always back before the röndin ore dimmed, back a good time before the gates closed. Not once had she even come home with a scratch. Now she was stuck in every Searcher’s nightmare, a cut on her elbow and knees, winded, lying on her own in a blackout.
Air struggled to refill her lungs. Loud, rasping wheezes were swallowed by the dark. She had to stop the noises, she knew. The Avgrunn would hear her, if they hadn’t already.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She thought with each rattling breath. She’d gotten too carried away. The Heart. It was right there. Right within her grasp. If she’d paid attention, she could have gotten what she wanted most: to leave this God-forsaken place, with enough money to fix all her problems.
Slowly, it became easier to breathe. She rolled onto her stomach, peering in vain into the gloom. There was nothing there - at least, from what she could tell. She couldn’t see her hand, even though it was just centimeters away from her face. But if any Avgrunn were here, it would have attacked by now.
It’s abandoned. That’s all. You’re safe, she reassured herself. Just rest, and tomorrow you can get out of here.
She fell asleep with that on her mind.
***
Something wet hit her cheek.
Her eyes flew open. For a moment, she wondered where she was. Then it all came rushing back to her.
This time, hot, putrid breath hit her neck.
She froze.
Avgrunn.
Well since you guys started this I gotta do one now. This is actually based on one of my characters and it's just a snippet.
Dust blew upon the rocked cliff sides the valley dry and bare. The sound of armor heard as men and women marched. Wearing the blue banner of their marshal they marched upon the burning scorching sun. Ahead of them walking on foot to show he was not above them but their equal was the marshal the man dressed in plate armor a strange sword attached to his leather belt. Each steep leaving an impression in the yellowish sand. "Move forward! There are host awaits! Let us not keep them waiting!" The man with blonde hair and green eyes said.
There in his right hand the banner of his kingdom there his soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder from cliff side to cliff side. no one was getting through that line as the marshal looked at his host. A formidable band of men dressed in strange armor. The man on a horse road out and looked down upon him. "So this is the famous Alexander Saber? The high lord of the order of light? You spit upon my honor by not being above your men?" He said as Alexander offered nothing but a kind smile.
"My lord I am but a knight my men follow me because I ask them I do not command them. This battle is foolhardy for each soldier you kill here ten of your will fall. Can we not settle this peacefully?" He asked the man on the horse. The man laughed then spat in his face before riding back to his battle line. There he lowered his banner and began to walk back to his line. Once there every man turned to face him.
"My friend! Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, Uncles, and Aunts it would seem a peaceful end is not possible! I fear some of us will not return home alive but know this! This day we will fight and this day we will be victorious! Know that this day when our blood is spilled and our bones broken we lie here our last breath escaping we will know we fought for our families for our homes! That we are the last line of protecting for our homes! This day we die we go to our forebears in mighty company!"
Drawing his sword Alexander turned as the soldiers cheered and drew their weapons. Horn and drums go off blowing and pounding as the soldiers began to clash their swords upon their shields. The armies stared each other down then suddenly Alexander walked forward and turned to his men smiling before he began running towards their mighty host as the soldiers cheered and gave chase. It was then the spears were lowered and a shield wall formed on the opposing side. Alexander gave out a warcry before he swung his sword.
Dust blew upon the rocked cliff sides the valley dry and bare. The sound of armor heard as men and women marched. Wearing the blue banner of their marshal they marched upon the burning scorching sun. Ahead of them walking on foot to show he was not above them but their equal was the marshal the man dressed in plate armor a strange sword attached to his leather belt. Each steep leaving an impression in the yellowish sand. "Move forward! There are host awaits! Let us not keep them waiting!" The man with blonde hair and green eyes said.
There in his right hand the banner of his kingdom there his soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder from cliff side to cliff side. no one was getting through that line as the marshal looked at his host. A formidable band of men dressed in strange armor. The man on a horse road out and looked down upon him. "So this is the famous Alexander Saber? The high lord of the order of light? You spit upon my honor by not being above your men?" He said as Alexander offered nothing but a kind smile.
"My lord I am but a knight my men follow me because I ask them I do not command them. This battle is foolhardy for each soldier you kill here ten of your will fall. Can we not settle this peacefully?" He asked the man on the horse. The man laughed then spat in his face before riding back to his battle line. There he lowered his banner and began to walk back to his line. Once there every man turned to face him.
"My friend! Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, Uncles, and Aunts it would seem a peaceful end is not possible! I fear some of us will not return home alive but know this! This day we will fight and this day we will be victorious! Know that this day when our blood is spilled and our bones broken we lie here our last breath escaping we will know we fought for our families for our homes! That we are the last line of protecting for our homes! This day we die we go to our forebears in mighty company!"
Drawing his sword Alexander turned as the soldiers cheered and drew their weapons. Horn and drums go off blowing and pounding as the soldiers began to clash their swords upon their shields. The armies stared each other down then suddenly Alexander walked forward and turned to his men smiling before he began running towards their mighty host as the soldiers cheered and gave chase. It was then the spears were lowered and a shield wall formed on the opposing side. Alexander gave out a warcry before he swung his sword.
Skrifa wrote:
I struggle with the same sort of stuff as damnationfromafar....my short stories can be a bit too long. Or mine aren't even short stories...
So, here's an excerpt from a a story I started writing and then gave up on:
She could see nothing.
Trapped in a blackout. How many times had she been warned not to wander into one? More than enough times. But here she was, stuck in one of the dreaded pits. It wasn’t entirely her fault, though. Night had fallen, and the röndin ore had shut down, leaving her to stumble around aimlessly down the paths, until she tripped into the darkest void yet.
She couldn’t tell which way she’d come. That was the worst part of it. If it had been a simple, straight path, she could just walk backwards until her sight adjusted. But, no. Her luck just happened to be tumbling down a hole, rolling deep into the shadows below.
It angered her, in a way. She usually wasn’t so careless; always back before the röndin ore dimmed, back a good time before the gates closed. Not once had she even come home with a scratch. Now she was stuck in every Searcher’s nightmare, a cut on her elbow and knees, winded, lying on her own in a blackout.
Air struggled to refill her lungs. Loud, rasping wheezes were swallowed by the dark. She had to stop the noises, she knew. The Avgrunn would hear her, if they hadn’t already.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She thought with each rattling breath. She’d gotten too carried away. The Heart. It was right there. Right within her grasp. If she’d paid attention, she could have gotten what she wanted most: to leave this God-forsaken place, with enough money to fix all her problems.
Slowly, it became easier to breathe. She rolled onto her stomach, peering in vain into the gloom. There was nothing there - at least, from what she could tell. She couldn’t see her hand, even though it was just centimeters away from her face. But if any Avgrunn were here, it would have attacked by now.
It’s abandoned. That’s all. You’re safe, she reassured herself. Just rest, and tomorrow you can get out of here.
She fell asleep with that on her mind.
***
Something wet hit her cheek.
Her eyes flew open. For a moment, she wondered where she was. Then it all came rushing back to her.
This time, hot, putrid breath hit her neck.
She froze.
Avgrunn.
So, here's an excerpt from a a story I started writing and then gave up on:
She could see nothing.
Trapped in a blackout. How many times had she been warned not to wander into one? More than enough times. But here she was, stuck in one of the dreaded pits. It wasn’t entirely her fault, though. Night had fallen, and the röndin ore had shut down, leaving her to stumble around aimlessly down the paths, until she tripped into the darkest void yet.
She couldn’t tell which way she’d come. That was the worst part of it. If it had been a simple, straight path, she could just walk backwards until her sight adjusted. But, no. Her luck just happened to be tumbling down a hole, rolling deep into the shadows below.
It angered her, in a way. She usually wasn’t so careless; always back before the röndin ore dimmed, back a good time before the gates closed. Not once had she even come home with a scratch. Now she was stuck in every Searcher’s nightmare, a cut on her elbow and knees, winded, lying on her own in a blackout.
Air struggled to refill her lungs. Loud, rasping wheezes were swallowed by the dark. She had to stop the noises, she knew. The Avgrunn would hear her, if they hadn’t already.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She thought with each rattling breath. She’d gotten too carried away. The Heart. It was right there. Right within her grasp. If she’d paid attention, she could have gotten what she wanted most: to leave this God-forsaken place, with enough money to fix all her problems.
Slowly, it became easier to breathe. She rolled onto her stomach, peering in vain into the gloom. There was nothing there - at least, from what she could tell. She couldn’t see her hand, even though it was just centimeters away from her face. But if any Avgrunn were here, it would have attacked by now.
It’s abandoned. That’s all. You’re safe, she reassured herself. Just rest, and tomorrow you can get out of here.
She fell asleep with that on her mind.
***
Something wet hit her cheek.
Her eyes flew open. For a moment, she wondered where she was. Then it all came rushing back to her.
This time, hot, putrid breath hit her neck.
She froze.
Avgrunn.
Skrifa!!! It's so good! I'm suprised you thought mine was good because this is so good!!! I like how the action continues. I tend to interrupt action too much, this flows so nicely.
Lanx12 wrote:
Well since you guys started this I gotta do one now. This is actually based on one of my characters and it's just a snippet.
Dust blew upon the rocked cliff sides the valley dry and bare. The sound of armor heard as men and women marched. Wearing the blue banner of their marshal they marched upon the burning scorching sun. Ahead of them walking on foot to show he was not above them but their equal was the marshal the man dressed in plate armor a strange sword attached to his leather belt. Each steep leaving an impression in the yellowish sand. "Move forward! There are host awaits! Let us not keep them waiting!" The man with blonde hair and green eyes said.
There in his right hand the banner of his kingdom there his soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder from cliff side to cliff side. no one was getting through that line as the marshal looked at his host. A formidable band of men dressed in strange armor. The man on a horse road out and looked down upon him. "So this is the famous Alexander Saber? The high lord of the order of light? You spit upon my honor by not being above your men?" He said as Alexander offered nothing but a kind smile.
"My lord I am but a knight my men follow me because I ask them I do not command them. This battle is foolhardy for each soldier you kill here ten of your will fall. Can we not settle this peacefully?" He asked the man on the horse. The man laughed then spat in his face before riding back to his battle line. There he lowered his banner and began to walk back to his line. Once there every man turned to face him.
"My friend! Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, Uncles, and Aunts it would seem a peaceful end is not possible! I fear some of us will not return home alive but know this! This day we will fight and this day we will be victorious! Know that this day when our blood is spilled and our bones broken we lie here our last breath escaping we will know we fought for our families for our homes! That we are the last line of protecting for our homes! This day we die we go to our forebears in mighty company!"
Drawing his sword Alexander turned as the soldiers cheered and drew their weapons. Horn and drums go off blowing and pounding as the soldiers began to clash their swords upon their shields. The armies stared each other down then suddenly Alexander walked forward and turned to his men smiling before he began running towards their mighty host as the soldiers cheered and gave chase. It was then the spears were lowered and a shield wall formed on the opposing side. Alexander gave out a warcry before he swung his sword.
Dust blew upon the rocked cliff sides the valley dry and bare. The sound of armor heard as men and women marched. Wearing the blue banner of their marshal they marched upon the burning scorching sun. Ahead of them walking on foot to show he was not above them but their equal was the marshal the man dressed in plate armor a strange sword attached to his leather belt. Each steep leaving an impression in the yellowish sand. "Move forward! There are host awaits! Let us not keep them waiting!" The man with blonde hair and green eyes said.
There in his right hand the banner of his kingdom there his soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder from cliff side to cliff side. no one was getting through that line as the marshal looked at his host. A formidable band of men dressed in strange armor. The man on a horse road out and looked down upon him. "So this is the famous Alexander Saber? The high lord of the order of light? You spit upon my honor by not being above your men?" He said as Alexander offered nothing but a kind smile.
"My lord I am but a knight my men follow me because I ask them I do not command them. This battle is foolhardy for each soldier you kill here ten of your will fall. Can we not settle this peacefully?" He asked the man on the horse. The man laughed then spat in his face before riding back to his battle line. There he lowered his banner and began to walk back to his line. Once there every man turned to face him.
"My friend! Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, Uncles, and Aunts it would seem a peaceful end is not possible! I fear some of us will not return home alive but know this! This day we will fight and this day we will be victorious! Know that this day when our blood is spilled and our bones broken we lie here our last breath escaping we will know we fought for our families for our homes! That we are the last line of protecting for our homes! This day we die we go to our forebears in mighty company!"
Drawing his sword Alexander turned as the soldiers cheered and drew their weapons. Horn and drums go off blowing and pounding as the soldiers began to clash their swords upon their shields. The armies stared each other down then suddenly Alexander walked forward and turned to his men smiling before he began running towards their mighty host as the soldiers cheered and gave chase. It was then the spears were lowered and a shield wall formed on the opposing side. Alexander gave out a warcry before he swung his sword.
Wow! That was a wonderful read! I like your writing style!
My stories tend to not be so short. They have a way of building on themselves. I will present you for your reading pleasure an exerpt of a tale I wrote set in Middle Earth in the northern kingdom of Arthedain in the year 1940 of the Third Age. It's written in first person and its basis came from an RP I wrote with someone known as Rían on a Tolkien site a while ago.
~ ~ ~
Marching Off To War
It was Loëndë, Midsummers Day when my service to Arthedain began. Had barely enough time to get to the inn to get my satchel and get to the stable to get my horse and arrive on the parade grounds in time. There, we were grouped together nd assigned to our officers. I was assigned to Captain Dúriel in the Weather Hills as were six of us from Fornost. Five others came from the Evendim Hills, and seven others from the western reaches of the realm. Apparently Captain Dúriel was highly regarded and expected much of his men and we all would get to know each other well in the coming months.
As we set out, we rode tall and proud. The people wished us well and I searched the crowds along the street for Riannon. She was nowhere to be seen. I sighed and looked forward as we headed east along the road. It would be many leagues before we would meet met our captain in the Weather Hills, so for now we came under command of Captain Belas. He immediately tasked me to be the corporal of Dúriel’s cadets. I was no leader, and I hardly knew these men. I think Captain Belas just pointed at who was closest when he reviewed us, and that was me.
As evening set, we set camp in a field that had defendable ridges. Belas tasked us to set watch, and we held vigilance against the darkness that pressed unrelenting upon us. There were no stars this night, only the sound of the wind blowing the clouds by us. After my watch, I went to my tent but couldn't sleep, so I penned my first letter to Riannon…
’Dearest Love,
Though it has only been two days, I miss you so. I close my eyes and see you. I see your smile and the glint in your eyes. I hear your voice, soft and sensual, and your laugh so bright. But my hands miss your .the feel of your skin clad in the thinnest of silk, the softness of your cheek as my finger brushes it. May this find you well, and know that you are ever in my thoughts.’
I put away the pen and ink, and hoped it would be readable. I would send it tomorrow with the runner before we leave east.
The next day the sun rose early, and the day was hot. We moved northeast through the North Downs, giving the families that lived there some comfort. When we came to the eastern reach, the soldiers there were glad to see us. The units from the Western March commanded by Belas were to be deployed there, and so the ones being relieved were in good cheer even as they appeared grim. With instruction given from veteran to cadat, many of the relieved soldiers would be going back to Fornost for rest. But there were some who would not be. They met Captain Dúriel there, and he picked who he wanted from the veterans of the North Downs. These hardened men joined us for the march east to the Weather Hills.
I looked in these men's eyes and they were deep and hard. They kept to themselves and spoke little to us. A dozen of them, all grim, all weatherworn, and all silent. They gave us cadets the chills. When one with a scarred face saw me looking at him, he got up and walked over to me as the rest of his comrades watched. I quickly turned my eyes away and looked forward as we got set to march. But he stepped in next to me as we started and said,
”You know what that smell is?”
“What smell?”
I answered not turning my head. He grabbed me and held his notched knife to my throat.
”The smell of death. Yes, it is on me, and it is on my comrades. Too much of it. If you and your boys live long enough, it will be on you too.”
He retracted his blade as Dúriel called out,
”Dakuis! Leave the kids alone! Keep formation!”
Dakius. I had a name to put with the face. The veterans were loath to give the cadets their names. He said back to Dúriel,
”Just giving the corporal some sage advice. He’s a leader of sorts to these kids. Thought he could use some.”
Dakuis said as he walked forward to talk to Dúriel. I marched along. I wasn’t able to shake Berel’s designating me as a corporal. It would be something that would stay with me whether I wanted it to or not.
Dark are the days ahead just as it was spoken on the faces of the veterans. They have seen too much of war, and the commanders could do little more than order their forces to where they thought the worst threat would come. The hesitant doubt in the faces of the new men like me was not relieved when we arrived. Yes, the coming days would be hard. We gained our position in the north of the Weather Hills without incident, and the veterans there greeted us by talking to each other….
”About time Dúriel.”
“Look! The ‘relief’ is here. Can we go home now?”
“Boys…. Here we go again”
“You talkin’? You were a boy when you got here the last time… when was that?”
“Hundred years ago, all crammed into one year. I should be going home now.”
“Nope, you move down the line to the south. Maybe someone whose one year was up several years ago will get to go.”
And so it was. Our twelve veterans and us manned the north end of the Weather Hills. The fortifications were old and somewhat crude, but were functional. We all found a place to call ‘home’ for now.
Of all the lore of Arnor that was beheld in the libraries of Annúminas and Fornost, there are numerous accounts of the Dúnedain’s struggle against the dark power of Angmar. Of the days of King Arveleg I, his reign was that of war, and it finally took his life at Amon Sûl where there was much loss. At that time, the strength of Arthedain prevailed, as it still does now. But the strain is heavy, and our strength only seems to wane while that of the Witch King only seems to grow.
I tend to never finish the stories that I write on paper so maybe I can do a short one electronically
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
PastelGalaxy wrote:
I tend to never finish the stories that I write on paper so maybe I can do a short one electronically
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
Wowwwwwwwwww.
That's pretty.
Your writing is like your picture. All pretty and pastel and calming.
Abigail_Austin wrote:
PastelGalaxy wrote:
I tend to never finish the stories that I write on paper so maybe I can do a short one electronically
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
Wowwwwwwwwww.
That's pretty.
Your writing is like your picture. All pretty and pastel and calming.
PastelGalaxy wrote:
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
Wow! I'm impressed! That was a lovely read! Such great breathtaking visuals from your words!
I wholly agree with what Abigail said! Thanks for sharing this with us!!
Dunedain-Ranger wrote:
PastelGalaxy wrote:
Pale moonlight floods the surface of the pond, it's waves seemingly tinted lavender in the night light. Cheyenne seemed even paler in the half light, her features shadowed and mysterious. She even seemed more beautiful, if that could even be possible. "Oh, babe, look! Fireflies!" she whispers feverishly, a slender, milky white finger pointing just above the waters surface.
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
The tiny glowing bugs seemingly come out of nowhere. It was as if a switch was flipped, sending a signal out to all of the flying creatures. "They're beautiful." I whisper back and reach for her other hand, the one lowered by her side and twine our fingers together, the slick coolness of her newly brandished wedding ring metallic on my skin. A smile that could stop even the coldest hearted person in their tracks crosses her face, teeth of snow reflecting the light.
I can hear her footsteps before I even feel the tugging on my hand as she steps towards the water. Panic rises in my chest and I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if her touch had burnt me. "Chey, I-I can't." I stammer quickly, the beat of my heart fast, too fast. "You know I can't swim." The greens of her eyes glance back at me, barely enough to catch a glimpse of my face. "It will be fine. I'll be with you. Promise." she says with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out and grabbing my hand in a soft grip again. I believed her. I had no reason not too. So I swallow my fear and slowly follow her in, my body shuddering involuntarily as the cold water soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
Her hand let's go of mine once she's sure I'm behind her, continuing to go deeper as I stay in the shallows. "Join me?" her soft voice questions, a hand beckoning to me as she dips herself back in the water. "Out there?" I gasp and wrap my arms around my body, taking a step back as I look around us in debate. Her blonde head nods as it floats on the surface, arms held out to her sides as the silky water slips in between the gaps. The shore was my safety. A sure way of not drowning. But the water was her pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't join her? Slowly I inch my way deeper into the liquid, staring down into the darkness as it crawls up my body to my chest. Once again panic starts to cloud my body but I push it down deep. "Don't be afraid, you can touch." she encourages, her upturned face now illuminated by the light of the full moon. My head nods and with a deep breath I sink down to my neck, quickly resorting to my back to float like her.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks in a whisper of awe, her voice barely audible to my submerged ears. And I share up at the sky in silence to watch as the fireflies disperse into the sky slowly, one by one like they had appeared. I look over at my wife, her fawn colored hair floating over the surface of the water in long, flowing locks and smile. "Yes. Yes it is." I agree softly and stare at her as the moon shines down on the water, the lavender tinted waves on which she floats. "Beautiful..."
Wow! I'm impressed! That was a lovely read! Such great breathtaking visuals from your words!
I wholly agree with what Abigail said! Thanks for sharing this with us!!
James walked out of the supermarket with his bottle of Advil and headed down the walkway toward the dry cleaners. The suit he had gotten cleaned for his upcoming interviews had been ready since yesterday.
James opened the Advil and popped a pill, swallowing it down without water, hoping it would deaden the headache he had woken up with.
Halfway to the cleaners, James spotted a sign in the glass door of a massage parlour.
"Try Soul-Gazing. $10 for 30 minutes," the sign read.
Soul-gazing, James thought, slowing down to look at the sign. Is that the thing where you look into somebody's eyes? The eyes of a complete stranger? The thought gave him a rush of nervous of nervous anxiety.
James laughed to himself, shaking his head, and kept walking. But then he stopped. And turned around. And walked back.
What the heck. I have 30 minutes, he thought. He wasn't sure why he was doing it. The thought terrified him. But something drew him, and he opened the door to the massage parlour, and went inside.
The fragrant scents of essential oils immediately hit him. Lavender. Tea tree. Something like pine.
A wild-haired receptionist had him sign in under the appropriate slot and sit down in front of a table full of magazines. He looked around. There was a white noise machine sitting on the floor, plugged into an outlet in the corner, and it hummed softly and consistently in the background, almost like a fan would.
James felt himself starting to relax. His headache started to fade away. What kind of place is this? he found himself wondering. It seemed a little magical.
Soon, a woman dressed in an emerald green peasant blouse and a long flowing paisley skirt with a lot of gathers in it came out to greet him. Her hair was medium brown--with a tinge of red, and it was long, but pinned up into a bun that was smooth and shiny. Her lipstick was dark pink, and she greeted him with a kind smile.
"My name is Darla," she said, extending a hand to him to shake. It was something he found strange; people in the service industry didn't often shake hands to greet people anymore. Maybe a banker or a salesman... he thought to himself.
But James took her hand and shook it. It was smooth, like she used a buckets of lotion on it every day. And it was warm. To shake her hand, James stood to his feet. He stood about two inches taller than the woman.
"I'm James," he said to her as he shook her hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Yes, of course...the pleasure is mine," she said, looking him in the eye. "Right this way." She turned around and led him to an open area towards the middle of the room with a gray desk which had a chair on either side of it. The desk had a lamp on it, a tray stocked with tools for doing manicures, and a beautiful deep purple geode sitting atop a bowl of decorative stones. There was also a tiny stalk of green bamboo, shooting up out of a tiny square vase and surrounded by pebbles.
"Have you ever done this before?" Darla asked him, as she watched him examining the items on her desk. James looked back up at her and shook his head. Smile lines formed around her blue eyes as her mouth formed a barely detectable smile.
"Saw the sign?" she asked.
James nodded and looked away again.
Why am I so nervous about this, he wondered.
"Do we have to do this...like...out here in the open?" James asked, looking back at Darla. "I mean--isn't there a room or something. Isn't everyone going to be wondering what we're doing?"
Darla smiled, looking down and nodding.
"James, there's nothing to be ashamed of about looking into somebody's eyes. There's nothing wrong with it. Do you feel like there's something wrong with it?" Darla asked, her eyes inquiring and studying his face.
"Well...no," James said slowly. "But I think that...well it looks kind of weird."
"Why?" Darla asked.
"Well, because people don't do it everyday. It's...not normal."
Darla smiled. She took his hand in hers and looked into his eyes.
"It's not weird," she said. "It's normal. People are weird. Our culture is weird. But this--this is normal." She squeezed his hand.
James stared at the desk for a moment, in silence, affected by the profundity of her words. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Okay," James said, and he looked back up at her. He smiled awkwardly. "So...what do we do?"
Darla placed her arms flat on the desk in front of them, bent at the elbows, her palms turned up.
"Have you heard of a Roman handshake? It's kind of like that. Just lay your arms on top of mine, grab my arms right below the elbow...here let me show you," she said. She reached out and grasped his sleeved forearm gently with her hand, and did the same thing with his other arm, then lowered their hands, together, down to rest on the desk.
"Just like that. Is this okay for you?" she inquired. James shrugged.
"Yeah, sure," he replied.
"Good. Okay. Now comes the hard part. It's hard because it's so simple. Just remember...it's hard for everyone at first, okay? So don't worry," Darla assured him.
"Um... oookay," responded James.
Darla smiled slightly at his answer. She lifted her arm out from under his, and punched a button on a timer next to them, then returned her hand to under his.
"This timer is set for 5 minutes and 30 seconds," Darla said. "The 30 seconds is to let us get settled, but it might take a little longer. Don't worry. They say when you look into someone's eyes, you can see their soul. That can be very personal. And that's okay. We're going to gaze into each other's eyes for 5 minutes. That's the goal." She paused for a moment to let all her words sink in. "Are you ready?"
"Sure," James said, looking into her blue eyes.
"Okay, we're starting right now," Darla said, looking back into his brown eyes. As if on cue, the timer beeped twice, indicating that the time to get settled had passed and the five minutes was starting.
The sound spooked him, and he looked back down at the timer.
"Oh...I'm sorry," James apologized.
"Shhhh...don't apologise, just look at me," Darla said.
He looked back into her eyes.
They were not light blue, they were somewhat darker, more vibrant. They held eye contact for about 10 seconds.
Suddenly he realized that his arms were probably getting sweaty. She could probably feel it. He felt like he was breathing loud. She could probably hear it. He suddenly felt the need to shift in his chair, but felt like he couldn't, because with them being connected, arms to arms, she would probably feel it. His nose itched. He felt trapped, all of a sudden. And he looked away. He pulled his arms off of Darla's, stood up, and turned around, so that his whole body was facing away from her, facing the back wall.
"I can't do this," James said, not turning around.
"I know. It's hard. But you can," she encouraged. "Just come sit back down and let's talk about it. What just happened here? What made you turn away?" She waited patiently for his answer.
What DID just happen here? James wondered, himself, and he was suddenly overcome by a burning curiosity to figure it out. He turned back to Darla and smiled a nervous half-smile. Then he walked back to the desk and sat down, looking at her, then squinting his eyes and focusing on a beam in the distance just beyond her head.
"I don't know--I just felt so... well, for one thing my nose itched." He latched onto the easier explaination. Darla laughed. James gazed at her smile and suddenly realized--it was really beautiful. Looking at it did something to his stomach, but he liked it.
Darla put her arms out on the desk again, inviting him to resume the pose. He placed his arms on top of hers.
"Be honest," she said. "Think about it. You felt afraid, didn't you? What were you afraid of? Rejection? Judgement?"
James thought about the sweaty arms worry, and the loud breathing, and the not wanting to move too much because she would be able to feel it. He breathed a sigh out. A sigh of confusion and frustration. He frowned at the desk.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I didn't want you to see me--doing anything. Moving around, having sweaty arms, breathing hard. You were watching me so closely, I just didn't want you to see me--" James continued.
"Shhhh...stop," Darla said holding up her hand. She took both his hands in hers, and squeezed them, looking deep into his brown eyes. "I see you, James. I see you, and I accept you. Completely. I don't care if your arms are sweaty, I don't care if you're breathing hard, I don't care if you move around, I don't care if you scratch your nose. You're okay. You're good. You're accepted. Fully accepted. Nothing you can do in front of me is wrong." She paused to let those words sink in. "Nothing you can do in front of me is wrong." she said again. "Okay?"
James was stunned. Darla's words flowed around him like a cool breeze. Like a clear brook.
He swallowed. He blinked a few times. Then he spoke.
"Ye-yeah. Okay," James stuttered. "But um... but..." He shook his head, not sure what he had been going to say. "Okay," he said again. He nodded. "Okay."
Darla nodded once and smiled a bright, shining smile. She loved this work. She loved it when someone got it. She loved it so much.
"Alright, let's try it again," she said, hitting the timer and slipping her arm under his, grasping his forearm.
Her eyes came in line with his, and they gazed into each others' eyes for what seemed like a long time. It reality it was only about 45 seconds before James looked away again. He didn't get out of the chair this time. He just turned his head, closing his eyes and shaking it.
"What happened?" Darla urged him. "What's going on?"
"No--it's just--" when he opened his eyes and turned back to look at her his eyes were glassy. "I've just never--"
Darla nodded knowingly.
"I know. It happens to everybody that really gets it. Don't worry about it. It's okay," she said, grinning at him. "It's perfectly okay." She laughed and wiped a tear away herself. She put her arms out again.
"Here. Let's go again," she said. She hit the timer again and clasped arms with James as they looked into each others' eyes. This time tears flowed down his face, and, in response, as they always did at this point, tears flowed down her cheeks as well. But, this time, he didn't look away.
James opened the Advil and popped a pill, swallowing it down without water, hoping it would deaden the headache he had woken up with.
Halfway to the cleaners, James spotted a sign in the glass door of a massage parlour.
"Try Soul-Gazing. $10 for 30 minutes," the sign read.
Soul-gazing, James thought, slowing down to look at the sign. Is that the thing where you look into somebody's eyes? The eyes of a complete stranger? The thought gave him a rush of nervous of nervous anxiety.
James laughed to himself, shaking his head, and kept walking. But then he stopped. And turned around. And walked back.
What the heck. I have 30 minutes, he thought. He wasn't sure why he was doing it. The thought terrified him. But something drew him, and he opened the door to the massage parlour, and went inside.
The fragrant scents of essential oils immediately hit him. Lavender. Tea tree. Something like pine.
A wild-haired receptionist had him sign in under the appropriate slot and sit down in front of a table full of magazines. He looked around. There was a white noise machine sitting on the floor, plugged into an outlet in the corner, and it hummed softly and consistently in the background, almost like a fan would.
James felt himself starting to relax. His headache started to fade away. What kind of place is this? he found himself wondering. It seemed a little magical.
Soon, a woman dressed in an emerald green peasant blouse and a long flowing paisley skirt with a lot of gathers in it came out to greet him. Her hair was medium brown--with a tinge of red, and it was long, but pinned up into a bun that was smooth and shiny. Her lipstick was dark pink, and she greeted him with a kind smile.
"My name is Darla," she said, extending a hand to him to shake. It was something he found strange; people in the service industry didn't often shake hands to greet people anymore. Maybe a banker or a salesman... he thought to himself.
But James took her hand and shook it. It was smooth, like she used a buckets of lotion on it every day. And it was warm. To shake her hand, James stood to his feet. He stood about two inches taller than the woman.
"I'm James," he said to her as he shook her hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Yes, of course...the pleasure is mine," she said, looking him in the eye. "Right this way." She turned around and led him to an open area towards the middle of the room with a gray desk which had a chair on either side of it. The desk had a lamp on it, a tray stocked with tools for doing manicures, and a beautiful deep purple geode sitting atop a bowl of decorative stones. There was also a tiny stalk of green bamboo, shooting up out of a tiny square vase and surrounded by pebbles.
"Have you ever done this before?" Darla asked him, as she watched him examining the items on her desk. James looked back up at her and shook his head. Smile lines formed around her blue eyes as her mouth formed a barely detectable smile.
"Saw the sign?" she asked.
James nodded and looked away again.
Why am I so nervous about this, he wondered.
"Do we have to do this...like...out here in the open?" James asked, looking back at Darla. "I mean--isn't there a room or something. Isn't everyone going to be wondering what we're doing?"
Darla smiled, looking down and nodding.
"James, there's nothing to be ashamed of about looking into somebody's eyes. There's nothing wrong with it. Do you feel like there's something wrong with it?" Darla asked, her eyes inquiring and studying his face.
"Well...no," James said slowly. "But I think that...well it looks kind of weird."
"Why?" Darla asked.
"Well, because people don't do it everyday. It's...not normal."
Darla smiled. She took his hand in hers and looked into his eyes.
"It's not weird," she said. "It's normal. People are weird. Our culture is weird. But this--this is normal." She squeezed his hand.
James stared at the desk for a moment, in silence, affected by the profundity of her words. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Okay," James said, and he looked back up at her. He smiled awkwardly. "So...what do we do?"
Darla placed her arms flat on the desk in front of them, bent at the elbows, her palms turned up.
"Have you heard of a Roman handshake? It's kind of like that. Just lay your arms on top of mine, grab my arms right below the elbow...here let me show you," she said. She reached out and grasped his sleeved forearm gently with her hand, and did the same thing with his other arm, then lowered their hands, together, down to rest on the desk.
"Just like that. Is this okay for you?" she inquired. James shrugged.
"Yeah, sure," he replied.
"Good. Okay. Now comes the hard part. It's hard because it's so simple. Just remember...it's hard for everyone at first, okay? So don't worry," Darla assured him.
"Um... oookay," responded James.
Darla smiled slightly at his answer. She lifted her arm out from under his, and punched a button on a timer next to them, then returned her hand to under his.
"This timer is set for 5 minutes and 30 seconds," Darla said. "The 30 seconds is to let us get settled, but it might take a little longer. Don't worry. They say when you look into someone's eyes, you can see their soul. That can be very personal. And that's okay. We're going to gaze into each other's eyes for 5 minutes. That's the goal." She paused for a moment to let all her words sink in. "Are you ready?"
"Sure," James said, looking into her blue eyes.
"Okay, we're starting right now," Darla said, looking back into his brown eyes. As if on cue, the timer beeped twice, indicating that the time to get settled had passed and the five minutes was starting.
The sound spooked him, and he looked back down at the timer.
"Oh...I'm sorry," James apologized.
"Shhhh...don't apologise, just look at me," Darla said.
He looked back into her eyes.
They were not light blue, they were somewhat darker, more vibrant. They held eye contact for about 10 seconds.
Suddenly he realized that his arms were probably getting sweaty. She could probably feel it. He felt like he was breathing loud. She could probably hear it. He suddenly felt the need to shift in his chair, but felt like he couldn't, because with them being connected, arms to arms, she would probably feel it. His nose itched. He felt trapped, all of a sudden. And he looked away. He pulled his arms off of Darla's, stood up, and turned around, so that his whole body was facing away from her, facing the back wall.
"I can't do this," James said, not turning around.
"I know. It's hard. But you can," she encouraged. "Just come sit back down and let's talk about it. What just happened here? What made you turn away?" She waited patiently for his answer.
What DID just happen here? James wondered, himself, and he was suddenly overcome by a burning curiosity to figure it out. He turned back to Darla and smiled a nervous half-smile. Then he walked back to the desk and sat down, looking at her, then squinting his eyes and focusing on a beam in the distance just beyond her head.
"I don't know--I just felt so... well, for one thing my nose itched." He latched onto the easier explaination. Darla laughed. James gazed at her smile and suddenly realized--it was really beautiful. Looking at it did something to his stomach, but he liked it.
Darla put her arms out on the desk again, inviting him to resume the pose. He placed his arms on top of hers.
"Be honest," she said. "Think about it. You felt afraid, didn't you? What were you afraid of? Rejection? Judgement?"
James thought about the sweaty arms worry, and the loud breathing, and the not wanting to move too much because she would be able to feel it. He breathed a sigh out. A sigh of confusion and frustration. He frowned at the desk.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I didn't want you to see me--doing anything. Moving around, having sweaty arms, breathing hard. You were watching me so closely, I just didn't want you to see me--" James continued.
"Shhhh...stop," Darla said holding up her hand. She took both his hands in hers, and squeezed them, looking deep into his brown eyes. "I see you, James. I see you, and I accept you. Completely. I don't care if your arms are sweaty, I don't care if you're breathing hard, I don't care if you move around, I don't care if you scratch your nose. You're okay. You're good. You're accepted. Fully accepted. Nothing you can do in front of me is wrong." She paused to let those words sink in. "Nothing you can do in front of me is wrong." she said again. "Okay?"
James was stunned. Darla's words flowed around him like a cool breeze. Like a clear brook.
He swallowed. He blinked a few times. Then he spoke.
"Ye-yeah. Okay," James stuttered. "But um... but..." He shook his head, not sure what he had been going to say. "Okay," he said again. He nodded. "Okay."
Darla nodded once and smiled a bright, shining smile. She loved this work. She loved it when someone got it. She loved it so much.
"Alright, let's try it again," she said, hitting the timer and slipping her arm under his, grasping his forearm.
Her eyes came in line with his, and they gazed into each others' eyes for what seemed like a long time. It reality it was only about 45 seconds before James looked away again. He didn't get out of the chair this time. He just turned his head, closing his eyes and shaking it.
"What happened?" Darla urged him. "What's going on?"
"No--it's just--" when he opened his eyes and turned back to look at her his eyes were glassy. "I've just never--"
Darla nodded knowingly.
"I know. It happens to everybody that really gets it. Don't worry about it. It's okay," she said, grinning at him. "It's perfectly okay." She laughed and wiped a tear away herself. She put her arms out again.
"Here. Let's go again," she said. She hit the timer again and clasped arms with James as they looked into each others' eyes. This time tears flowed down his face, and, in response, as they always did at this point, tears flowed down her cheeks as well. But, this time, he didn't look away.
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