Window - Short 3

This time I chose window. I had an idea in my head that I was going with then halfway through writing, my brain kinda went away and my imagination was like, "Hey, what about this idea?" I wrote it and read it and loved it. I hope you do too.

photo from: www.homestratosphere.com/entrance-hall-designs/

Window

                “Do you like it?”
                “It’s beautiful”, she looked up, above the entrance way.
                “You’re sure?” He came behind her, wrapping her in his arms, his chin resting on her head.

                “Yes. Honestly. It’s beautiful.”

                “Beautiful…But you didn’t say you liked it”.

                She turned to face him and sighed, “It’s just bigger than I expected it to be”.

                He brought his hands from the small of her back to her shoulders and lowered himself to look straight into her eyes. “We can change it if you want?”
                “No. No…honestly. It’s big but it’s fine. You’d have to tear the wall down to change it, wouldn’t you?”
                “Yes. But that’s not an issue. You know cost isn’t a problem”.
                She sighed and looked into his eyes, “It’s times like these I wish we could go into some sort of virtual reality machine to see what the window would’ve looked like before it was all built in.

                “It’s really that bad?” He asked, dejectedly.

                She turned back to the window above the doorway in the foyer of their new home. The house was finally finished. This was the first time they’d stepped inside since it was complete. The rooms still bare and undecorated. Her heels clicked over the concrete floor.

                “But we’ve changed the plans so much already. I think our architect would hate me if I did it again”, she looked his way, her eyes betrayed how she really felt.

                “If it’s what you want then she’ll have to accept it. I don’t see why she’d complain. It’s more money for her in the long run.” He smirked, money wasn’t the question, making her happy was.

                She wafted her hand towards his face, pushing his idea away, “It’s just a window. I’m being far too picky and silly”. She walked over to the bottom of the stairs and twirled her fingers around the deep oak bannister at the bottom, looking up into the open plan foyer, lost in thought.

                He was stood, watching her, by the front door, hands in pockets and smiling at her. She was beautiful. She’d always been his dream. This house was hers. He’d been living his dream for 25 years and the kids were all grown up and had moved onto their own lives. She’d put her dream aside for him, and them, so now it was her turn.

                “I’ll call the architect in the morning and get the window changed. It’s nothing my love”, he reassured her.

                She turned to him from the stairwell, “The light hits the window at the perfect spot to make the entire space glow. Imagine the colours that would bounce around in here once we have the chandelier up. Imagine the sunsets…” She walked to him, “…it’s perfect”. The sun shone behind her, filling her body in a glowing light.
                He smiled, “Yes, it is”.
                His phone rang, interrupting their moment, “Hey, Sweetie!” He smiled.
                “Hey, Dad, how’s the house? You like it?”
                He looked at his wife, “It’s perfect”
                “I’m glad…” she breathed into the phone, she must’ve held her breath until she’d known the house was okay, “…It took ages but we finally got there. I’ll be over tomorrow with Ben and the kids. Got to make sure you don’t starve”. There was a smirk to her voice and he laughed.
                “I’m not going to starve”, his wife smiled at the remark from their daughter.

                “I know, I know. But, living in a caravan on the lot can’t have been easy. I’m sure the meals haven’t been the greatest”.

                “It’ll do for now Liddy. The decorating will be done in no time”.

                She sighed, resigned in her father’s hope, “Okay, Dad. Well, we love you okay?”

                “I know. Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow baby girl”.             

                “Okay, and Dad…”
                “…Hmm?”
                “We miss her too”, she sighed.

                “I know. Me too. This is her house more than mine.” He looked at his wife, smiling and looking at him in pure adoration, the sun bouncing off her beautiful face.

                “You think she’d have liked it, Dad?”

                He smiles back at his wife, responding to his daughter on the phone, “I know she would have done, sweetie.”

                “Good. We’ll see you tomorrow then…”, strain was laced in her voice as she whispered, “…I’m sorry it had to be this way”.
                His body relaxed into the call, “Don’t be Liddy. Nobody saw it coming. Your mum fought, just as any survivor would, to see this place finished. We just put her getting ill down to the exhaustion of waiting for this place to be done. We didn’t even think it could be the Cancer coming back”, he was saying what he could to try and calm his daughter’s voice with his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow. You’ll love the house. Bye sweetie”.

                “Bye, Daddy”.

                He put the phone down and placed it back into his pocket and looked up at Elizabeth. She was stood on the bottom of the stairs, light now shining in through the same window she’d said she wanted changing.

                Her hair dazzled in the Autumn sun. Her eyes wide and full of promise, and her smile was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. She looked happy, at peace. It was almost as though they were 25 years younger and right back where they began. Life full of love and promise.
                He choked, “I’m sorry you couldn’t be here with me to see this place finished”.

                “I’m here”, she smiled, looking up to the window, “Don’t change the window, Stephen. I love it”.

                He looked up to the window behind him, “I won’t. I promise”. He turned back, she’d gone. His face fell and his body crumpled under the weight of her absence. He walked to the steps trying to gain back the feeling of what it would’ve been like to have her standing there with him. He fell to the bottom step and sat hunched over in grief. His head between his hands resting on his knees.

                “I miss you so much”, he cried to the air around him.

                It whispered back, “I’m always here”. 

Writing Short 2 - Shame

So, I was watching an episode of Girls the other night and one of the main characters, Hannah, is a budding writer. She's been trying since way before the programme began to be a writer. In this one episode I was watching she goes to a library, book store and has to stand in a queue to get her name into a hat. If her name is pulled out of the hat she has to improvise a short story based around a certain word. The word for the evening was: Jealousy.
I repeated the idea of this episode to my mum and told her we should choose a word next time for one of our shorts. She chose SHAME. Shame. I mean seriously... shame?! It's taken me a good couple days to get my brain around it. She wrote hers the same day! I couldn't. But then the other night, it came to me... whilst I may have been doing something similar to the short that I've written. :) Hope you like.

Shame

Amber slumped back, moulding into the sofa, relaxed and stress-free. The kids were in bed and the hubby was snoring away, loudly, upstairs. Her fingers drummed over the remote looking for something to watch, mind focused on the kitchen.

What could she munch on?

Was there anything munchable even in?

Settling for the latest Criminal Minds episode; she hauled herself off the sofa, grunting as she went. Amber loved her sofa but it was such hard work getting off it when she was so comfortable. Amber flicked the lights on in the kitchen, making her jump as one popped. Two of the five were already out. Great.

She scanned the fridge; yoghurt – too healthy; ham – no bread; apples – who can be bothered with the crunch?

The cupboards didn’t bring much relief either. Nothing; eyes scanning the shelves, nadda, zilch. She couldn’t be bothered with anything that required a cook time. This night owl wanted some snacking fuel. It was payday tomorrow, hence the fridge and cupboards being practically empty.

Urgh, this was torture! What could she eat?

Then she saw it. Purple packing, glistening at her in the soft kitchen lights. Frog smiling happily up at her, begging to be eaten. She knew the chocolate belonged to her kids but who cared? This is clearly an emergency. How many times had she given up her chocolate to one whinging child or another? Amber deserved this!

Usually with her kids, if the chocolate was out of sight then it was out of mind. They wouldn’t ask for it if they didn’t remember it was there. That is until Amber was sat trying to peacefully enjoy some to herself.

To be honest, there wasn’t too much internal debate, they were getting paid tomorrow so she could always buy them some more then.

Amber sat back, happy in her decision, taking less than a minute to devour it. She tried to swirl it round her mouth and let it melt on her tongue to last longer. Alas, it took only seconds to disappear, seconds that were worth it.

Suddenly, there was a shuffle in the hallway and Amber turned her head. One of the kids had woken up – probably moaning for a drink or some food. Amber stuffed the evidence of her naughty excursion down the sofa as Maisie padded into the living room. She was rubbing her eyes of sleep and looking a little bewildered stepping gently into the light.

“Hey baby, you okay?”

“Want some food Mummy”, Maisie said, climbing onto Amber’s lap.

“Okay baby. I’ll get you a drink too. Beep beep your butt”. She placed Maisie to the side of her and wandered into the kitchen, getting a banana and some juice. She plonked them on the sofa in front of Maisie and teared open the banana for her to eat. “Eat this then go back to bed, okay Mais’”?

Maisie looked up at her with confusion falling over her face, “Mummy, where’s my chocolate froggy?”

“Oh, I don’t know baby. Maybe the chocolate monsters came and ate it”.
Her four-year-old seemed to be satisfied with the answer and stared into space biting into her banana as she did.

Amber looked at her cute, trusting, little baby and didn’t feel one ounce of guilt at stealing her chocolate, totally unashamed at her little white lie. 

Writing Short 1 - Tree

I've just recently started working freelance on editing a friend's books and helping out with the publicity and promotion of her latest work and it got me thinking with a writing head again. I used to write a lot. Didn't we all at some point? I'm sure we've all penned a little ditty or two over the years... Anyway, I digress. I showed my mum something I'd written ages ago, when Adam and I first got married. It's not long, nor perfect. But she liked it - and my mum is not afraid to voice her opinions. So we decided to write. Both of us. I know she's been working on a book for a while trying to get her ideas together, her fibro brain being a pain. We thought it'd be good to base a short story around an inanimate object and my mum chose tree. I won't post hers here as this is a place for my shorts but if she doesn't mind me doing so then I put it up at a later date. Anyway, without further ado, here is mine.

Tree

She closes her eyes against the summer sun, air whistling past her ears as she goes higher and higher, her body almost horizontal. She opens her eyes as her body propels her backwards, face pointing towards the floor as she holds onto the ropes tightly. Loving the feel of the suns hot rays beaming down on her face through the trees; the way the fields of flowers, corn, wheat and barley intoxicate her nostrils.
            This place is home, always has been. The sun, fields, trees and this little part of the wood, all collide in her heart, making it home.
            She swings again, not touching the ground; using her legs to push her forward. She’s always loved this place.

“Hey”, a voice comes from behind her, she puts her feet down towards the ground, slowing her pendulum free-fall.

“Hey! I didn’t think you were going to make it. I was just about to leave”. She studies his face, his chest rushing to fill with air and quickly emptying again. She realises he’s bent over slightly, trying to catch his breath. “Hey…You okay? If I hadn’t seen you this afternoon I would’ve just come to your house at some point this week, you know.”

“Yeah…Yeah, I know…I just wanted…to see you...today” He breathes in quickly, trying to answer her question without being too urgent with his answer.

Aside from the almost dying, breathless, look he has on his face, she can see something else in him today, something…different. Grown-up, maybe? Her reflection into his appearance is giving him some time to catch his breath, glad of the silence. He needs to do this today. He can’t wait any longer, this is killing him.

“Mum’s cooking up some apple pie for when we get back. I told her you were coming with me, not like it wasn’t obvious.” She smiles, glad he seems to have regained his composure.

He straightens up, hands on hips, “Oh man, I love your mum’s apple pies” smiling at her in response.

“I know. Why do you think she’s making it?” She winks, swinging slowly back and forth, her feet scuffing the floor.

“Dad’s got my ass in a grinder this week, working me until my head explodes with all the information, about the garage, he’s trying to shove in there.” He walks up to her, pausing his hands on her back, pushing her forward into the air. Her golden hair splays backwards at him as she moves through the wind up to the sky, like an angel. The sun, doing nothing to quell his thoughts, each time it hit her hair it sent a bright shot of anxiety through his mind, telling him he couldn’t do this right now, knowing in his heart that he should.

After pushing her back and forth a few times she says, “Well, you did agree to work for him so it can’t be that bad. If I remember correctly, you did have the opportunity to go to Uni, you know”.

“You did too. Yet you stayed to work with your mum in the flower shop”.

“C’mon, you think I could’ve really left this place? I mean look at it”, her voice gets slightly quieter every time he pushes her away…pushes her away – how ironic.

“Yeah, it’s not all bad I suppose”. His body goes into auto pilot, slowing down the thrusts hurling her into the sky. He has rehearsed what he’s wanted to say to her so many times and yet he falters. It all sounds too dumb, now that he’s here with her. She interrupts his thoughts, obviously aware that he’s slowed down in his task of pushing her on the swing. She’s looking around at the tree.

“Remember when we used to come here as kids? Your sisters, you, my brother and me? We’d climb as high as we could on this thing”. She looks above at the gigantic tree, towering down on her, blocking the sun, except for little trickles of summer air falling through the cracks.

“Ha, yes. I don’t think my old bones could make it past the first branches now. Either that or I’d snap it with my weight!”

“Seriously, Noah? You’re not old or fat. If you’re old at the age of twenty-two, then what the hell does that make me?”

“Uhm…ancient?” She stops the swing and stands, turning to hit him on the arm; hand meeting soft cloth with a loud thud.

“Hey! That’s not fair! I’m younger than you!” She laughs at him and looks up. Her eyes are the brightest green he’s ever seen, no flecks of any other colour, just pure emerald green. He loved them. He loved her, and the freckles that crowded around her nose.

She is looking at him confused, while he stares at her, because he’s gone silent and his pupils have gotten bigger. She’s never noticed them do that before. She’s noticed him before, always has. They’ve been through their young lives together, grown up in school together, passed exams and gone on double dates with each other’s significant halves. But, since their teen years she’d stepped back and aside, watching him from afar. Loving him more deeply each day, yet too scared to lose him if she ever mentioned the slightest idea of romance between them. But here he was, looking down on her, differently, in a way she’d never seen him do before.

He knew it was now or never. He knew if he didn’t tell her now then he’d mess it up forever. What was he thinking? Even if he did tell her it’d still mess things up forever. But her eyes, her face, her body, all leaning into him, pleading for him to say something. Their close stance making her temporarily mute.

He gazes into her eyes, knowing he can’t say anything. He just can’t. Everything he’s practiced for months to say just goes out of his mind, flying away in the wind, with one look from her. That look. The one he’s always wanted from her. He moves a hand up to her face, catching a stray curl waving in front of her eyes, blocking his view. He pulls it down and tucks it softly behind her ear. She closes her eyes at his touch and opens them, looking up at him with deep desire.

The summer breeze flows up around them, pulling them out of their trance. She looks away and he knows he’s lost his moment. It was gone. She moves from him towards the tree, running her hands over it’s rough, mossed edges, staring at the details in the grain, staring at anything but him. Sighing, she says, “I wonder how many lives have been lived under this tree. This swing was here way before I was. I mean, sure, it’s had a few rope replacements over the years, but I couldn’t ever imagine my life without it”, she looks up, lost in the tree’s over-bearing awe, handling the wood delicately under her fingers.

“I couldn’t ever imagine my life without you in it”. She snaps her head back quickly to face him. He realises that what he was thinking he must’ve said out loud. The shocked look on his face must’ve made her nervous because she replies with a quick laugh.

“Well, of course not, Noah. I’ve known you forever! You’re like this tree. Ha. Always in my life. I’m grateful for that, you know…” She smiles at him. Her back now leaning against the hard, unforgiving surface, legs out in front of her, perching against the tree.

The elation he’d had at telling her how he really felt about her quickly dissipates when he realised she’d laughed it off. But, having half told her what he’d desperately wanted to for so long, he couldn’t stop the thoughts in his mind from splurging out in front of him.

“No, Sophie. That’s not what I meant. I couldn’t ever imagine my life without you in it…with me. Together. Not just friends…I need you.” He takes a deep breath, realising he was holding it in, the whole time he spoke.

She looks at him, stood a few feet away from her. He’s holding on to the swing’s rope for support, balancing himself after relieving a massive weight from his heart. She realises, that’s why he looked different today. That’s why he asked to meet her at their favourite childhood spot. This place reminds them both, of the amazing times they’ve had together.

He's blown it. He knew this would happen. She’s staring at him and hasn’t said anything at all in so long. The air grows thick around them and from the shocked look on her face and the fact that she hasn’t replied to him makes him realise she doesn’t feel the same way. But, he feels better knowing that he’s said what he came here to say, and even though she doesn’t feel the same way at least he can move on now. Stop obsessing about this. Constantly building up this dream-like vacuum in his mind where they’d be together. Together, with kids and a cat, maybe a dog, or both. And, they’d come here with their children, for picnics under the tree, just like their parents did with them. The air starts to feel constricting and tight, he needs to say something, anything, to leave and collect himself. He rushes, “I’d better go. It’s getting kinda’ chilly and I didn’t bring a jacket”, deflated, he kicks at the floor and turns, walking away into the wood to his house on the other side of the clearing.

“I love you, Noah.” She says it so quietly he only hears it through the passing air, riding on the wind to his mind.

He turns and stares at her, mouth breaking into the widest smile she’s ever seen. He comes storming towards her, pulling her face into his hands as she is pushed, hard, against the tree. She grabs his waist to steady herself against his onslaught of masculine power.

Neither says anything. They know they don’t have to. He searches her eyes and follows her freckles down her nose, looking at her mouth as she breaks into the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen.

“Say that again, Sophie.” He whispers, breathing onto her face.

“I love you, No…” Before she can finish he kisses her, moulding together like it was always meant to be. He moves his hands from her delicate face, whilst still kissing her, and wraps them behind her body, shielding her back from the harsh bark protecting the tree digging into her. Her arms come up to fold around his neck, pulling his body closer. She never wants to let him go and knows he’ll never make her.

Their mouths slowly part; his warm breath tickles her lips. Their eyes open, finding one another, and he moves back slightly so her arms fall from behind him. He pulls her forward off the tree and guides her over its thick roots protruding out of the ground.
He releases a little laugh and smiles at her, “I love you too, Sophie” holding out his hand he beckons her to take it. Gladly, she obliges, slipping their fingers together like they’d never been apart.

“C’mon. We’d better get back. I heard your mum’s got apple pie on for me, and nothing is going to stop me from eating that!” He winks back at her, she beams at him as they walk back to her house, hand in hand, looking at each other and the world in a completely new way, smiling at everything.