So I realized I’m not going to be able to do what I first thought I’d do. It just isn’t ready and I can’t pull it off by the weekend. Instead, pulling through my archives, I stumbled across these.
I wrote these for a prompt in a non-fiction class, and I am fairly proud of them. Each one does in fact describe a true event, but I don’t think I’ll be telling any details. It’s more fun that way.
Edit: Did a quick double read through and noticed one of them does name names, so I removed it. The remaining two are unedited though. Sorry, but I prefer at least the semblance of anonymity.
We’re in the gazebo, hidden amongst the broadleaf bushes, walking back and forth across the benches. She says she dances, lifting her leg up like a ballerina and taking a few quick steps above the ground. My only thought is that she doesn’t have the body for it. Her face is too broad? She’s too short? Her limbs too thick? She seems galaxies away from beautiful. Oh god, if only I could kiss and hold her.
I’m sitting up on the third-floor, papers scattered across the table, laptop blinking, a blank page eyeing my pencil. I twirl the neon green earplugs between my finger and thumb, and pierce my ears. One crinkling expansion later I’ve shut the world out, ready to focus. I hope no one thinks I’m being rude and ignoring them on purpose. Did she just say something? Did my phone go off? What time is it?