These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age (56). I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live in the burbs and work in the city (Chicago, the best city in the world). I'm an aunt, a friend and a colleague. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Valentine's Day Trifecta
Today's challenge: write a love scene in no fewer than 33 and no more than 333 words.
The only other restriction is that your response cannot use any of the 33 words listed below or any derivation of those words.
This helps me make sure I don't sink into the trite.
I remember the moment I knew. And he wasn’t even there.
I had just gone through the revolving doors, leaving the
office and crossing the plaza. I slipped my sunglasses on to protect against
the late afternoon sun. Walking
to the train, my mind was going faster than my feet as I mentally composed the email
I’d send to my coworker as soon as I got home.
He’d been travelling all afternoon, and tonight he’d have a
client dinner, so he couldn’t get the news of my day until he got back to his
hotel and logged on late tonight. And I had so much to tell him!
Shopping at lunchtime I spotted that
super-durable brand of umbrella he’d been looking for – guaranteed not
to turn inside out, even in the worst wind – at Macy’s but the price was steep,
about $40. There’s the rampant rumor that our company will soon switch to his
beloved Dunkin’ Donuts coffee in the cafeteria. Best of all, his faith in me
bolstered my confidence. He’ll be so pleased and proud when I tell him I took
his advice, voiced my suggestions and now I own that Power Point
Went through the turnstyle and boarded the train. One of my
fellow commuters was reading Night by
Elie Wiesel. I remembered him telling me how moving that book was.
It’ll be 6:30 when I get home. That’s only 4:30 in Los
Angeles. He’ll still be in meetings so I can’t call. It makes more sense for me
to try to remember to get all this down in an email for him to read before he
goes to sleep. But damn, I really want to call him with this stuff.
Then it hit me – who feels such urgency to share such "stuff"
with a coworker? Um … that would be no one.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” I asked myself.
Yes, I knew. And it
was both exhilarating and terrifying.