Setting:
We're two-thirds of the way through the month and we've never talked about setting. Here we are in beautiful Second Life and we know the importance of the environment and how it affects the life we lead. In novels, only Jane Austin can get away with one setting ... the parlor. Now that you know almost everything you need to know about your novel and the creatures inhabiting it. Describe in excruciating detail the principal locations where you anticipate important actions will happen to your characters.
Unexpected Date
She'd been expecting somebody, well, she didn't know who she was meeting, but the arrival of the mermaid meant ...
Summer Vacation
What's the worst vacation you've ever taken? Describe your favorite local watering hole.
1 comment:
Unexpected Date by Wolfgang Glinka
An email turned his disappointment to desire.
"Can we try again? Meet me in the park. Usual place. Love you."
She was the one. He thought it directly they met. That day in the bookstore where she worked.
There just was something about the way she came close when she was showing him where the business management books were stacked.
Not frightened of flesh to flesh contact, her arm brushed his as she stretched by him. Her breath tickled his ear as she spoke intimately about the shop's ordering policy.
By the time she had taken his order, they had arranged their first date.
Always a bit of a walkover for long ash blonde hair, brown eyes and thick pink lips, she was meant to be the one. He was gone there and then.
Boy meets girl, the meeting was meant to be. Some drinks in the bar and then a meal in a restaurant with candles. It was not meant to give her that haunted, furtive look before she sat down.
She had looked so carefree in the store. Something had changed that.
Then she relaxed, the wine helped. It compounded his desire too. Red wine on those pink lips, the tongue moistening the stain and drawing it in, letting the pout reform.
No bouncing into bed that night. She blew him a kiss as her taxi drew away.
The second date, lunch, ended up in a hotel bed.
A week later and he knew the whole story.
Yes, she was married. And yes, she had fallen out of love. She was misunderstood, under-valued and ill-served by her husband. It was only natural if her eyes began to roam.
The holiday in Greece demanded more precuations, more lies, more imagination.
Two weeks, guilt free, well almost , loosened their inhibitions and their limbs, they were now a couple, drawn together, inseparable for that time so greedily stolen.
And so they learnt how to do this. Commit adultery, covet their neighbour's goat, or whatever they were doing. Really, they were not sinning, they were celebrating a powerful, magnetic love, the most natural of unions.
He remembered all the details. Those lips, they would always haunt him, long after she had ended the affair. The hungry, scared look in those eyes drew a deep sigh, months later. Her perfume, persisted in his nostrils, like a much played song ringing in his head.
She had gone perhaps, but she never left him.
He put it all together in his mind, as he walked towards the park.
He should have known that she would not be gone forever. She was no less entrapped than he was. No less connected, obsessed by their passion.
They had met on that park seat, in summer and winter, breathless in anticipation each time, never losing the novelty of excitement. It was there again now, building up inside his chest, turning on switches in preparation, engaging every sinew.
There she was. Sitting in her usual way, unsure of herself, anxious but so erotically charged, he could have found her with eyes firmly closed.
Their eyes met but it was not the same. The fear was there but it was great this time. The emotions were there but they had reached breaking point. Her love was there and suddenly, in a great rush, it tried to do its duty. She got up, started to run towards him, tears streaming, a scream forming and that hair, so beautiful, so much the beginning of his love for her, that hair tumbled round her shoulders as she fell to the ground.
He knew what had happened in that fraction of a second before the bullet entered the space between his eyes.
Wolfgang Glinka
Post a Comment