So I realized something today. I sat down to start editing my newly completed manuscript first draft (*squeals*), and my mind was buzzing with ideas for a potential sequel and ideas for a completely different book, and it occurred to me that I have never actually posted any of my writing.
Since my manuscript is still in the early stages, I won't be posting any of that. However, I do have some short stories and other things like that, so here goes nothing.
This is a story that I wrote almost two years ago. My freshman year of college, I took a creative writing class that I absolutely adored. Our professor encouraged us to try all styles, including nonfiction, fiction, and poetry. This is a fictional (very short) short story that I wrote for that class. The writing prompt was to write a short story based on one very simple but intriguing line. The first assignment was to write that line. The second assignment was to write the story based off of that line.
The story I wrote follows below. The first line of the story is that initial prompt. Please read and comment and let me know what you think! Even though this is a few years old, I still really like it.
Cheated
The rustling trees brought back the
ache of that day.
He remembered how beautiful she looked. Her glowing ember
hair cascaded down her back, bouncing over her shoulder, springing back as she
twirled the curls. He remembered what she wore. A blueberry shaded dress,
strapless, that was longer in the back, only reaching the top of her pretty
knees in the front. She wore black stilettos, one foot forward, one foot back.
She was sitting on the bench, reading a book, looking like she had stepped out
of a painting. Frankenstein. His
favorite book. He had never seen such a stunning woman reading Frankenstein before. Every woman he had
ever seen reading such a book was incredibly frumpy and unconcerned with her
frightful appearance.
The wind blew, rustling the leaves, both those still
clinging to the trees and those scattered on the ground. The breeze tousled her
hair and she flicked a piece away from her face. Her silver bangles tinkled as
she flipped her hair, chimed as her fingers delicately turned a page.
She was fully engrossed in her novel and oblivious to her admirer
who sat several yards away from her. He was trying desperately to work up the
nerve to talk to her. She was the ideal woman for him. No, the perfect woman.
He loved red hair, adored science fiction novels, and there was nothing in the
world he enjoyed more than sitting under the trees and listening to the
persuasive breezes sway the trees. In fact, that is precisely why he was here
in the first place. Going to the park was his favorite thing in the world
because he dearly loved nature. He was enjoying the beautiful day and watching
the trees dance under the wind’s power. She glanced up for a moment to observe
a curious squirrel that had been observing her. She caught him staring at her,
smiled, and went back to reading. He sighed. Her stunning green eyes captivated
him and made him swoon. He just had to talk to her.
But he couldn’t do it. He tried, oh, he tried desperately to
stand up, put one foot in front of the other and walk over and speak to her,
but his fear of rejection kept him seated in his bench.
But he had to. She was a goddess, she was perfect for him,
he could just feel it. So he stood. Slowly, but he rose to his feet. He took
one step and paused. One more step, another pause. He heard someone walking
behind him. He turned to see a man behind him. The man passed him without a
glance and moved toward the girl. She smiled when she saw him, stood, threw her
arms around his neck and kissed him. He picked her up and spun her. She picked
up her book and they walked away together.
He was shocked. Sickened. Crushed. He felt as if he had just
been cheated on. He had never spoken to her, didn’t even know her name, but he
loved her as if she had been his wife. He sat dismally, empty handed. In his
imagination, he had found his soulmate, but in reality she was just a stranger
and would never be anything more.
It had been more than ten years since that day, yet here he
was, sitting on the same bench he sat on the day he was cheated. He’s married
now, to the supposed perfect woman. All his friends are jealous of her. She is
beautiful, charming, and hangs off of him adoringly. She is the perfect trophy
wife. She is the perfect woman. But she isn’t his perfect woman. She cares more
about her appearance than she does about him, hates reading, and her idea of
enjoying nature is when he brings her flowers. He still comes to this park,
even though she hates it when he goes.
The wind blows and the trees shake. He watches the squirrels
scurry around in search of food and he listens to the children play together.
He looks up at the three girls walking in his direction, though still a ways
off. They are about thirteen or fourteen and they talk frivolously about boys
and clothes. As they get closer, he takes notice of the one on the end. When
she laughs, she shakes her auburn locks and smiles beautifully. He is startled
by how much she looks like the woman from his past. He blinks quickly, trying
to expel the hallucination from his eyes. Her mother catches up with her and
hands her a worn copy of Frankenstein
before watching her walk off with her friends. It’s her. The woman is standing
only a few feet from him after nearly fifteen years. She takes notice of him,
smiles familiarly, and walks off with that man.
He was left with only the old memory of her reading and the
sound of the rustling of the trees.
KMG
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