15.

a new venture into the world of writing fiction. The following is the first few pages or so of a piece of fiction I've been playing around with for a while the characters do not have names and I don't think I will give them any.


An eight hour shift was one long television commercial to her. she was interested in things after work and before, but this in between was mind numbing. If only she could hit fast forward. 20 minuets till freedom the tic tic tic of the clock on the wall spoke his name to hear, him him him. That's what she wanted most, to rush home to him.

The ride home was unbearable, strangers on the train bumping her, touching her don't they know this skin is reserved for his touch no one Else's. finally the grimy silver doors slide open and she is free of all the unwanted contact she stops at the corner mart.


"is this all" the tall bearded man with the accent speaks. she looks down at the counter; coffee, Cosmo and condoms, "yes." All she needs, tonight's three C's

The walk up to their fourth floor ramshackle palace is silent only her breath to keep her company. foot steps echo following her even now in the cramped hall. balancing the coffee and magazine in one hand she knocks their secret knock on the peeling paint of apartment 421. no answer. she grabs for the knob it doesn't twist. she stared at the door begging it for answers, pleading for it to tell her a lie, he has to be home, he's in the shower, or taking a nap.... but she knew deep down none of this was true, he wasn't home.

her bags hit the dusty wooden floor with a surprisingly loud bang, she tried to kneel down to dig for her keys in the rubble of her purse but lost her balance spilling coffee all over the magazine, rendering both completely useless to her now. finally her finger felt a stab of cold metal and she extracted her cluttered collection of baubles and keys. the key slammed into the lock with a violent force, a twist and she was in. with a thunderous clash she dropped the keys onto the table by the door, her bags next to the table. As a last attempt she calls his name. Silence.

She walks through the carnivorous space with the lights off the darkness hiding her embarrassment from the walls. she was foolish to expect him home. in the dark she peels off her days clothes, something she had hoped he would do, and crawls into the familiar warmth of her favorite sweatshirt, now filled with holes and stains, reserved only for times like this.

she cooks the meal they had planned together, their favorite, she cooks enough for both of them still holding onto that small sliver of hope that he'll come bursting in the door and salvage this night.

dinner eaten, dishes washed, dvr set, three D's she climbs into bed alone and drifts to sleep, she is no longer pretending, she knows exactly where he would be this late into the night.

The door creaked open and a shadowed figure appeared, framed by the yellow glow of the kitchen light. her eyes, still blinded with sleep strain to identify the figure though she knows who it is. the figure speaks, a whispered scream of urgency, "it's me." two small words, they hung in the air memories sticking to them weighing them down, sinking them into her chest. he stepped into the room bare feet stumbling towards the bed. "you've been drinking," she mumbled as he turned his back. "please just listen to me," his weight causes the bed to shift like the ocean during a storm, and a storm is exactly what they were facing. they were silent for a moment, his breathing was labored.
"I'm sorry"
"I know"
"I didn't want it to end like this way"
"it's too late now, save your words for her"
he winced as the words stabbed.
"I knew you would hurt me, I was foolish to sit around and wait."
"no, it isn't like that"
"it's exactly like that. don't you see,this is how you are, you refuse to let people into your life, you play your games, string people along, and the moment things start getting real, you self destruct.">



The story needs a lot of work, but that's what I've gotten so far. Potential title is three things, which would be woven through the story as things progressed.
I hope you enjoyed reading this.

H.