I would love to tell you guys about a contest over at the lovely Miss Rachel's blog, The Inkpen Authoress. The contest is to write a story, dialogue, or poem, showcasing Valentine's Day from the perspective of a single person. I plan to enter, and I wrote up a rather cute little story yesterday, which I am calling Dreams Don't Turn to Dust. Hence, the Owl City song up above. Go on! Click! Listen to it while you read!
Jane opened the door to her
apartment, kicked her shoes off, and flopped down upon her musty, yellow,
sofa. She hadn’t been on a date in
months, and she was feeling a bit down in the dumps upon this dreary February
14th. She had begun the day waking
up, wriggling her toes in anticipation of the holiday…and suddenly remembering
that she didn’t have anyone to spend it with.
“Lovely,”
she said to herself. “And it’s not like
I even have any friends I can go hang out with tonight.” She worked at a small office with three
women, all married and spending the holiday with their husbands, and one single
man. However, this single man was Mr. J.
K. Duncan, head of the company. He was
in his late 60s, balding, and wouldn’t be on anyone’s “favorite person list”
for quite some time.
Jane had
moved into town at the beginning of the year, and was only now beginning to
feel settled in. She hadn’t made any
friends besides the women in her office yet, and she had spent many of her
evenings on the sofa in her tiny apartment, eating tv dinners and watching
black and white movies.
She opened
her box of DVDs and began absently flipping through them.
“Pride and
Prejudice? Yeah, just what I need.” She clasped her hands and intoned, “In vain I
have struggled. It will not do. You must allow me to tell you how much I
ardently admire and love you.” She
shrugged. “Not tonight. I have a feeling I’d flood the room crying in
my utter patheticness.”
She moved
to the next one. “Sound of Music? Eh, still romantic, and all those kids get on
my nerves. Don’t I have anything without
kissing, dancing in the moonlight, and long looks across the table?”
The next film
she pulled out was Gone With the Wind, and she gazed thoughtfully at it for a
moment. “It IS like five hours
long. That, plus a gallon of ice cream
might get me through tonight.” But she
shook her head. “Frankly my dear…” She trailed off. “No.
Swoony and dreamy and romantic, and I really don’t want a Valentine’s
movie tonight, and why can’t anyone SEE that?”
She dropped
the box of movies, covered her face with her hands, and began to sob. “Why can’t I have somebody? Everyone else has a husband or a boyfriend or
SOMEBODY. I hate being alone now. Can’t you see me now? ‘Jane the crazy cat lady, in her holey
bathrobe, never been able to get a husband.’
It’s been that way since ninth grade, when Jason Johnson stood me up for
my very first dance. I mean goodness.
I know I’m not a model, but am I THAT hideous?”
She knew
how irrational she was being, but she had just spent a day seeing other people holding hands and other people getting flowers and other people being happy. It wasn’t fair.
She sniffed
twice, dabbed under each eye with her sleeve, and began picking up the movies
that had been strewn all over her floor.
And then
she saw him. Tall, dark, devastatingly handsome, just
waiting for her to approach.
She
cautiously moved closer, fearful he would disappear before her very eyes. But he didn’t. He met her gaze with those chocolate brown
eyes, smirk upon his beautiful face. She
could have kissed him right then and there.
“Perfect,”
Jane breathed. And she picked up the Rob
Dallas film, The Last Hostage. It was a
super spy, action adventure movie, and the perfect thing to distract her from
her romantic woes tonight. And of
course, it starred the most gorgeous man to walk the face of this earth. She knew he would get the girl in the
end. He always did. But until then, she could dream.
She popped
it into the DVD player, grabbed her handy-dandy carton of caramel ice cream and
a spoon, and pulled her faded blue quilt over herself. She hit play, and wriggled contentedly.
She might
not have a boyfriend and she might not be sure when her next date would be, but
she was okay with that. She was with the
one she loved tonight, and that was all she cared about.
She was
with Rob, flashing his dark eyes and that wicked grin, making her melt, and
nothing else mattered.
It’s wonderful to be in love on Valentine’s Day,
she thought.
It'll probably undergo several more drafts before it's finished, but there is a rough version. I hope you like it! I might enter the dialogue and/or poetry sections if I have time.
Love you all!
Rachel
No comments:
Post a Comment