Flexing the Writing Muscles: Character and Love
Posted on May 29, 2013
Another writing prompt. This one features character and love: have two characters sit on a bench and talk about love. Again from the amazing Writing Maps.
I watch her from behind a wave of butterfly bushes. She sits on a bench tucked away in a corner of the park. Her hand taps a rhythm on the empty seat next to her. I draw in a breath and push away from the oak. I stare at my feet and how they hesitate, as I cross the nine steps that part us.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.
Her eyes rest on my face for a while, before she lowers her gaze to the joint in my hand. Her nostrils flare when the musty scent of burning pot hits her.
She accepts without any hesitation.
I sit down and watch her tug.
She nudges me with her elbow and wants to return the joint.
“I’m good,” I say.
She rolls the joint between her fingers. The left corner of her mouth curls up. “A peace offering?”
“If you wish,” I say. I want to tell her that I miss her, that I need her to come back to the Haunt, that life sucks without her.
“So…” she says. “Now what?”
I stare at the gravelled path that winds its way around the butterfly bushes.
“You don’t want to smoke. You don’t want to talk? Sounds like dead love to me,” she says.
The sound of kids bickering in a nearby sandbox travels through the thicket.
“Max, I’m not coming back, if that’s what you’re after.” She tosses the half-smoked joint on the ground and grinds it into the dirt. “You’ll have to do way better than a lame peace offering like this.” Her boot slides away from the crushed butt.
Come back scream my lungs, but before the words hit my vocal chords they’ve already turned in powerless wheezes. My hand slips off my thigh and drops between us. Not half an inch from where her hand rests on the bench. The wood is warmed by the sun and her body, warmth that seeps into my skin and into my system, but never reaches my lungs.
She gets up and halts for a moment, turns.
I look up at her. The sun illuminates her hair and makes her stand out against the dark clouds that sweep in at lightning speed.
“Goodbye Max,” she says and she saunters off.