I’m known to geek out over writing exercises, particularly snippets of text that prompt you to write a wee something not entirely of your own design. For me, these exercises are even better if I have a time limit and have to create under pressure, still better if I’m forced to use a pen and paper. I like that they get the juices flowing, remind me that my brain still works, given that I’m not particularly challenged by Bachelor recaps. They’re not for everyone, of course. I’ve brought them up to others before and watch as they begin to glaze over and start talking about the weather. I’m assuming flashbacks from HS Language Arts or bad writing groups. Completely legitimate (and hopefully treatable).
Indulge me? I’m wondering where you’d go with this. If it doesn’t suit you, you don’t have to write more than your idea as to where you’d take it from here. If it does suit you, give me a few of your next sentences? I’m getting a little giddy just thinking about your responses.
She was a caller ID checker, almost compulsively, given that she hated telemarketers and some of her friends. When the phone rang this time, she wasn’t prepared. Drinking two glasses of wine and being naked will do that to a girl. She managed to wrap a towel around her damp body and grab the phone off the bathroom sink. She answered.
(If more comfortable, you can post anonymously, natch.)
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Despite her initial irritation at being interrupted from her wine and satisfying nakedness, her “Hello” was lilting, a little hopeful. She had had a fabulous date and was looking forward to a callback, especially since she had left 17 messages in the two days since their romantic, passionate date and driven by his house four times. Was he finally free? Was this him? The half-second that passed before she heard the caller’s voice seemed an eternity.
Her mother always taught her to answer the phone politely, if not slightly inquisitively, inviting the caller to relax and spill the beans at the starting line. Unfortunately, she could not understand what the caller was saying, as it was wrapped in a thick foreign accent speaking thick foreign words. She hung up and stared at her room blankly. At least, she though it was supposed to be her room. That’s where she was a moment ago, holding a glass of wine and wearing nothing but a towel. Why she was sitting in her office at her desk in her business attire was beyond her. She felt very frightened.
I would make the call from the downstairs neighbor. Water from her shower has started to come through neighbor’s ceiling. Whether the neighbor is a cute man she sees sometimes in the elevator or an ornery old bat is my next decision. :-)
She was immediately sorry. As soon as her mother’s voice entered that part of her brain that only a mother’s voice can, she felt the delicious wine haze evaporate. She may have even felt her ovaries shrivel just a little bit. She fought the urge to allow the towel to give in to gravity even though talking to Mom completely naked would have been highly amusing, especially if this was one of her mother’s “You know what your problem is?” specials.
“Hey,” a warm, low voice purred out of the receiver as it slid between her shoulder and matted hair, getting slick with water and leftover conditioner. “Let me in, will you?” At the same time, a soft knock emanated from her apartment door.
“Shit,” she muttered as she tossed the phone in the direction of the cradle, missing completely, and swearing violently again as it ricocheted on the countertop and onto the floor where it dangled from the cord comically. Scrambling to her feet and attempting to field the device she stepped on a loose corner of the towel, pulling it off her shoulders and barely grabbing the last corner before it left her body, clutching it to her bare breasts where it did a very good job of covering up her cleavage and absolutely nothing else. Replacing the handset on the phone with a crunch, she allowed herself a small weep.
The knock on the door again made her leap up and, gathering up the towel and flinging it around herself like an expert bullfighter, frantically cast about for something more appropriate. Spying her grandmother’s hand-knit afghan, she rapidly slung it around her shoulders in a pseudo-sarong fashion and whipped open the door just as the knocking started again.
The surprise on his face could have come from any number of sources — the speed with which the door was opened, the fact that his knuckles were already halfway through a knock before they lost purchase, or the bedraggled, wet nymph that greeted him adorned in a pastel knitted blanket from yesteryear.
I had something to write but after Nathan’s comment I refuse to post. I loved that one!!
@mdgirl Oh, come on! You’ve gotta give us the jewels of your thoughts! This is an open forum, all participants welcome. :)
‘Hi Babe’
She checked the Caller ID again. It wasn’t a number that was in her phone, but it seemed familiar.
‘Who is this?’
‘It’s Me! Did you delete my number from your phone?!’
Oh Crap. Him again? I thought we were done with this!! ‘ Well, yeah! Right after you told me about your new girlfriend.’
‘Oh come on, you know those never last very long!’
She paused. That didn’t help him.
‘Why are you calling me?’
‘Because I like you, and I miss you.’
‘No, you don’t especially like me, and what you miss is the sex.’
He laughs. ‘That’s not right! I do like you, and I really miss the sex.’
Look, we tried dating 3 times. The first 2 times you screwed up, the last time it was me. It didn’t work. We don’t work as a couple. I want more than you are willing to give. I’m not mad, I’m not ticked off, you didn’t break my heart, that’s just how life is. And now we’re at the end of the line.’
His voice got softer. ‘‘Don’t be like that baby! Come on, come see me again. It will be different, I promise.’
She paused, considering the conversation so far. Two months ago she’d have given almost anything to get this phone call. Today, mostly what he was doing was irritating her. She realized that she didn’t want to spend any time with him, even if the sex had been pretty good. The good sex wasn’t enough to make up for the way he treated her when it was over.
It was the most amazing feeling, to not be tied to this crappy relationship anymore. She let him go, and with him she let go of the anger and disappointment and sorrow that she often carried around after a relationship went bad, and she was very glad to do so.
With a gentle voice she said, ‘No. I’m not coming to see you. I’m glad for the time we had, but we’re done now.’ She didn’t wait for an answer. She hung up the phone, and when he called back a few minutes later she didn’t answer.
She dried off and went to get dressed. She had bought a cute dress for tonight, and was looking forward to the evening.
The doorbell rang, and she was smiling as she opened the door.
I was sure it was her mother on the phone too, Finn.
“the call is coming from inside the house!” that’s all I have to say.
Today is just that kind of day.
It was the geeky guy with the horn-rimmed glasses from Best Buy. Her laptop was fixed.
“Finally,” she said.
This self-proclaimed “Geek Squad” had kept her “precious” away from her loving hands for a whole three weeks. She felt empty, even lonely without her lifeline to the world. Her laptop contained everything — her work, her calendar, even her chick-lit novel that she had been attempting to write since 2007.
Sarah was angry that the service was so slow.
“Did you personally have to drive to Toshiba headquarters in Japan to get this new sound card?” she snarled.
She was using that sarcastic tone that Max hated, the one her ex-husband said was the main reason he was moving out last November.
“I hate your fucking sarcastic tone,” he said, as he stepped out the door for the last time.
She never did tell him that she was pregnant. Or what happened after.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Langhorn.” the Best Buy geek said politely, and Sarah immediately felt guilty for dumping her anxieties on this poor computer repairman with an indefinable Eastern European accent.
“No. I’m sorry,” said Sarah. “I’m sure you did your best. Is everything working now.”
“Yes. All fine. I check over all the data. All there. I see everything. Everything on laptop. Everything.”
Sarah was taken aback by the way he repeated and emphasized the word… “everything.” What did he mean?
Sarah decided it was time to end the conversaton. She felt suddenly very naked and exposed, and then realized that she WAS naked and exposed. And slightly drunk.
“You like black men. no? Two black men?”
She suddenly understand what he saw.
Everything.
The video. The Christmas party. The executive washroom. Eugene and Andrew. The webcam. The file. The laptop.
My god. Sarah’s body turned a bright red.
“No worry,” said the computer guy. “All works well. Video works too! You can pick up laptop when you are ready.”
“Uh, OK,” said Sarah. “Thanks.”
He made no other mention of the video.
“Thank you for using the Geek Squad with Best Buy!” he announced, as he hung up the phone.
Sarah downed another two glasses of wine. She looked at her nakedness in the bedroom mirror.
“That was one memorable Christmas party,” she thought to herself, as she climbed into bed. Tomorrow, she would pick up her laptop.
She was a caller ID checker, almost compulsively, given that she hated telemarketers and some of her friends. When the phone rang this time, she wasn’t prepared. Drinking two glasses of wine and being naked will do that to a girl. She managed to wrap a towel around her damp body and grab the phone off the bathroom sink. She answered.
“Hi dad” given that it was three hours later on the east coast, well after midnight, this could not be good news “what’s up?”
shaking and trying to keep her composure, not to mention her towel in place, she moved to the living room, grabbing her wine glass on the way
“it’s your mother,Katie”
the wine glass shattered as it hit the floor “FUCK!” she shouted, more about the waste of wine than the broken glass
Oh you guys are good at this! More…more..more!
“Hey… it’s you, is that me?” the joke was on her, and yet… shared.
“Yeah. Hey. Um… you know, I’ve been thinking. A lot. You know.” His stilted, awkward tone made his words bounce like ball bearings in a rusty bucket.
Cringing, she wrapped the towel a little tighter- noticing that the tips of her fingertips were that lovely shade of Reynaud’s-blue-purple. Again. Cold. Beyond measure. Holding on so tightly to towel and phone that her wrists were aching.
“So… you called me, right?” softly, into the silence that gripped the static-ridden connection between them.
“Yeah, I called you. Because I booked us two plane tickets to Patagonia. And now I’m freaking out that you might not be ready for Cerre Torre just yet.”
Her heart crawled back out of her sopping wet slippers and lurched into her throat, pounding and threatening to overwhelm her voice with the explosion of relief-mixed-with-anticipation.
“When do we leave?”
Okay, since indulging you is such a joy, and watching you geek out is delicious, I offer you 10 days of play. Consider signing up for Round 8. Round 7 just finished up.
http://artspark6.wordpress.com
I love these, especially Nathan and Neil’s.
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