Prompt: This was the second assignment for my creative writing course. I had to write two different POV's, telling about the same event. I chose to use the characters from the last assignment (see my previous posts)
It was near morning when Kate came home, and her exhilarated feeling quickly passed as she walked into their perfect suburban street. Glancing at her watch, she knew John would be up by now, no doubt waiting for her. He started telling her off before she’d even had the chance to take her shoes of, and she noticed his disgusted look when taking in her appearance. She knew he disliked her loose hair; he thought it was messy. She felt like a child who had stolen candy from the cabinet by the way he reprimanded her, and in a strange way, John reminded her of her dad. Calmly, in that irritating voice of him, he told her she was being irresponsible and that she had to go to work tomorrow. Like she didn’t know. She was perfectly aware of it, and it had been the reason she’d run off for the night in the first place. She was sick and tired of the office, of the led-lights, the constant rumble of the copying machine and the smell of bad coffee from paper cups. She was pretty sure that if John from Secretary would as much as glance at her for being late with her files, she’d step into her boss’s office and resign. She knew it for certain as John finished his reprimand, and she lost her temper. She was sick and tired of this perfect suburban life that was laid out before her for the coming years. She started yelling at him, but he simply walked away, softly shaking his head. Richard had been right. John was impatiently walking around the house, cleaning up the magazines and tea mugs Kate had left behind on the strangest places. He was annoyed at the woman who would be his wife someday. She was carrying a child, damnit, and she had work tomorrow! She couldn’t just go out with friends anymore whenever she felt like it, without regarding her responsibilities. She could be so wild and irresponsible at times. He knew that it was the reason he’d fallen in love with her so many years ago, when she was still with that idiot, Rick or Rich, whatever his name was. He liked to believe that her friends had persuaded her to stay long after she should have gone home, but deep down he knew that Kate had been worse lately. He’d even seen her drinking wine one evening. The thought alone! As his future wife stepped into the kitchen, he realized that her neat knot had fallen out, and her hair was now a mess. She missed an earring and the buttons on her jacket weren’t done. Calmly, in the voice he used with interns at the office, he told her that she was being irresponsible, that she should remember that she still had to go to work, that she should care more about the baby she was carrying. He regarded her as she started to yell at him, but he didn’t listen. Blaming it on pregnancy hormones, he left the kitchen to get ready for work.
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Prompt: This was the final assignment for the dialogue part of my Creative Writing course; take your dialogue (see previous post) and make it a short story, maximum of 500 words.
The bar Kate had chosen was a little shady, but he knew why she’d chosen it. It wasn’t a bar her friends or family would visit, not a bar where she’d run into anyone. “It’s great to see you again! You really haven’t changed.” He turned around and there stood Kate. He quickly hugged her, taking in her features. The same features he’d hugged so often many years ago. “Well, you definitely have. How is being pregnant treating you?” “It’s not really a problem yet. I’m past the morning sickness, but no back pains yet, so I’m good. Everyone is spoiling me though, and I am enjoying it way too much.” “So your husband is treating you well, I take it?” “Technically, he isn’t my husband yet.” This took him by surprise; he’d figured John had proposed to her right now. “I think he’s waiting for the baby to arrive’, Kate explained. “But don’t you worry, you’ll obviously get an invite! I wouldn’t marry without you there.” “Does John agree with that?” he muttered, knowing how John felt about him. “What?” “Oh, never mind. So, what would you like to drink? Share a bottle of red wine, like the old days?” He changed the subject as the waitress approached. “I really shouldn’t drink, what with the baby… But I guess one time wouldn’t hurt.” “One bottle of your finest red, please” he told the waitress, checking her out as she turned her back on them again. “So what are you up to these days?” “Me? Nothing much, really. I’m not settling down like you are; got myself an apartment on the other side of town. You know me, one job, then another, some travelling if I feel like it.” “You really haven’t changed at all, have you?” “Not really, I guess. I suppose at some point, I might have to find a wife, but and settle for a career, but not right now.” “I don’t think you’ll ever grow up, Rich.” “That’s why you like me” he said grinning. “Certainly, or I wouldn’t be sitting here.” The waitress approached again, and he gave her a broad smile. “Here’s your wine, sir. Would you need anything else? “No, thanks darling”, he replied, giving her a wink. Kate raised her eyebrows at him. “You truly haven’t changed. Flirting with the waitress, really?” “As the youth say; you only live once.” “We’re not young anymore, even if you pretend to be.” “We’ll see about that” he said, as they drowned the first glass. A few hours later they were both drunk, sitting in an old motel room, with sheets that were white once. “This was a mistake.” “Why? It feels great. Just like old times. You still have it, girl.” “It’s a long way back from seventeen, you know.” “When did you become this boring?” “People change.” “That’s just what you like to think. You need to find a reason for yourself, an explanation. Well, let me give you one. You just wanted to live a little.” “That’s not what it is, Richard.” “Yeah, it is. You’re just convincing yourself that all of this is a good idea. And I don’t mean us. I mean John in his grey suits, the baby, your office job. You’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not making a mistake, because deep down you know you are.” “No, I don’t. You’re misinterpreting everything.” “The scratches on my back prove otherwise, dear Kate.” Prompt: This was an assignment for my creative writing course: writing 500 words of dialogue only, with a conflict in the subtext. The story itself was inspired by the song Bored to Death by Blink 182 (specifically the line "It's a long way back from seventeen").
“It’s so good to see you again! You haven’t changed at all, I see.” “You definitely have! How is being pregnant treating you?” “It’s not really a problem yet. I’m past the morning sickness and not at the back pains yet, so it’s pretty good, actually. It’s like the stage where everyone is spoiling you and you are enjoying it way too much.” “So your husband is treating you well, I take it?” “Well, technically, he’s not my husband yet.” “Really? I would have thought you two would have been married by now.” “I think he’s waiting for the baby to arrive. But don’t worry; you’ll obviously get an invite! I wouldn’t marry without you there. All of you guys.” “Does your future husband agree with that?” “What?” “Oh, never mind. So, what would you like to drink? Share a bottle of red wine?” “I really shouldn’t drink, what with the baby… But I guess one time wouldn’t hurt.” “One bottle of your finest red wine, please!” “Certainly, sir.” “So, what are you doing these days?” “Me? Nothing much, really. I’m not settling down like you are; got myself an apartment on the other side of town, not far from Claire’s, in fact. You know me, one job, then another, some travelling if I feel like it.” “You really haven’t changed at all, have you?” “Not really, I guess. I suppose at some point, I might have to find a wife, but and settle for a career, but not right now.” “I don’t think you’ll ever grow up, Rich. You always were the most immature of the group.” “Maybe, but also the most fun, wasn’t I?” “Certainly, or I wouldn’t be sitting here.” “Here’s your wine, sir. Would you need anything else? “No, thanks darling.” “You haven’t aged a bit, I can tell. Flirting with the waitress, really?” “Well, as the youth say, you only live once, my dear Kate.” “You’re not young anymore, even if you pretend to be.” [3 hours later] “We really should stop doing this.” “Why? It feels great. Just like old times. You still have it, girl.” “It’s a long way back from seventeen, you know.” “When did you become this boring? Live a little! And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” “Things changed. People changed.” “That’s just what you like to think. You need to find a reason for yourself, an explanation. Well, let me give you one. You just wanted to live a little.” “That’s not what it is, Richard.” “Yeah, it is. You’re just convincing yourself that all of this is a good idea. And I don’t mean us. I mean your husband in his grey suits and maching ties. The baby that’s growing in your belly. Your work from 9 till 5. You’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not making a mistake, because deep down you know you are.” “No, I don’t. You’re misinterpreting everything.” “The scratches on my back prove otherwise, dear Kate.” Prompt: the song Remembering Sunday by All Time Low
He refused to believe the news. He ignored the pitied looks everyone in the room suddenly gave him, he ignored the shouts after him, he ignored the whispered “Leave him be, he needs some time. God, I would need some time after news like that”, and thus he left everyone behind, running from the ugly words, running from the truth. It couldn’t be true. She’d just lost track of time or something, lost her car keys, or her phone, or her phone had died and she was lost, those things happened! In real life, and too her even more, because she was his clumsy girl. Even more reason to start looking for her, instead of standing here. He hadn’t realized that what started as a real search, as he strodded her favourite parts of the forests with a flash light taped to his forehead, would eventually end up in a pub, as he drank heavily. He couldn’t find her, hadn’t been able to for the past ten days, and the only reason he still knew how many days it had been was by the receipts the bartender gave him. He never looked him in the eye for he would see the same pitied look he’d run from, and that pitied look reminded him of the reason he’d run from that room. He hadn’t been running from the truth, as he heard the bartender whispered at some point. He’d just been running to save her, and he was failing. But he left after those words, slurring a goodbye, grabbing the bar to keep standing. He stumbled through the dark streets, not really caring about the trail he was leaving, the trail of empty cans, crumpled paper, and bitter tears. At some point, he ended up in the small cemetery. It wasn’t big; the village wasn’t big either. He knew most of the names carved into the stones, but for an inexplicable reason, he found himself reading every one. He realized that he had been running from the truth when his eyes found her name, carved into the stone, and suddenly, he wasn’t drunk anymore. Prompt: Dialogue only
“How can you be so irresponsible?!” “It’s not like I had another choice!” “Oh if you ask me, you had loads of other choices. Loads. You just didn’t think, did you? Again. You haven’t changed a bit in all these years, you know.” “Look, I know you don’t believe me and I realize it may seem weird, but I didn’t have another choice. I need your help to clean this mess up, okay?” “Yeah, you always need my help. It’s been years, Jonathan. Years. When are you going to clean up after yourself?” “I do that all the time, but this one is just too big. Come on, Jude. You never minded helping me out before.” “Yeah, when you were still young and innocent and naïve, and frankly, unable to take care of yourself. You’ve grown up now, Jonathan. You have a proper job, a house, you’re supposed to take care of yourself now. That’s part of life. You can’t just rely on others to come running if you mess things up again.” “It’s just this once!” “No, it isn’t. This is the third time you called me this year and every time it’s the same story.” “Okay, even if that is true, this time, I really really need your help, Judes. I can’t do this on my own.” “Maybe you should have thought of that before you started taking rash decisions. You need to learn to think before you act. Not afterwards.” “I had to act in the moment!” “You fucking killed him, Jonathan. You could have at least tried and think of another way, but you just jumped in and now I have to clean up your mess. Literally. I’m sick of it, Jonathan. Goodbye.” “Judes, please-“ |
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February 2017
About meWelcome to my blog! This is where I post my stories, occasionally accompanied by personal thoughts. I always post short stories, as I keep the longer ones for myself. My stories are often based on songs. I listen to music a lot (mostly pop punk / punk rock), and often get inspired by melodies, lyrics, or music videos. |