On Top of the World

This was a picture prompt responses=. I know people typically go romantic at the top of the Ferris Wheel, and I decided to go another direction. This is the story of Georgia who decides to deliver the bad news at during the 2 minute romance stop. My first attempt at this was a 1200-word story, that will not take place on a Ferris Wheel. Far too much back story in that one.


I palmed operator 20$ as I passed, quietly asking to be stopped at the top on our second spin for 2 minutes. I got on the Ferris Wheel beside my boyfriend, and the ride started to spin.


“Georgia,” He started, and I cringed, hating the sound of my full name as I always had. “I love you, and I have loved you for a long time,”


Oh no, he couldn’t possibly be this cliché. I tuned him out as I looked down at the near empty fairground, and steadied myself for what was coming.


The ride shuddered to a stop, and I put a finger to his lips to silence him. I had this timed down to the second, and it was my turn to speak.


“Jordan. I am sorry, but it’s over. I know that we have been together a long time, but I don’t see a future here. I told you I wanted to wait five years to get married, that I don’t want kids, and you don’t respect that.”


I deviated as I continued. “The fact you are holding a ring right now tells me that you don’t respect my choices, and the fact you think you can romance me into saying yes, well you don’t really know me at all, do you? I don’t see the point of dragging this out, so this is goodbye.”


The ride glided to a halt at the bottom, and I got off, running before Jordan could follow.


It was over.

Forever Yours

This was a micro fiction challenge, under 250 words, but written in the form of letters. It was supposed to be a challenge in terms of character voice, and I am not sure I nailed it, but these are two unsent letters. It’s another one that is not so happy. Sorry guys,


Greg,

You are my best friend, my person, and I will go to my grave with my biggest regret being that I don’t have the courage to send this letter.

I have loved you since we were six years old, and you found me crying on the school yard, and gave me the dandelion you picked to make me happy. You were always doing that, our entire lives, little things to make me happy, and I have loved you for each and every one of them.

I wish I was braver, but the risk of losing your friendship, the best thing in my life, was just too much to gamble. I love you Greg, and I always will,

Your Friend,

Tommy


Tommy,

I’ve loved you since we were six. That day in school when I saw you crying, it hurt my heart, and I knew that I’d do anything to make you happy. I’d even pretend that I didn’t love you, so that I could stay with you, and be your friend.

I wish I’d read your letter a lifetime ago, before I got married, before I had children, before you were no longer with us.

I wish I could tell you that you were always the one good thing in my life, no matter how bad it got, and if you weren’t brave, then I was a coward, because I said nothing either. I have loved you Tommy, my entire life, and I always will.

Forever Yours,

Greg

Forget-Me-Not

Sorry for the delay, I thought I had scheduled this for release….but apparently not. The response to this weeks six-sentence story prompt and a continuation of last weeks story, this was written for the word prompt of CANVAS. I worked it a few times, but it still isn’t quite what I wanted. Tell me what you think?


She hadn’t lost hope, but it was starting to stretch a little, wear thin in places, as she had given her book to a contact heading to the city a month prior, and she hadn’t heard a word since.

She feared the worst had come to pass, not that the book had been seized, or hadn’t made it’s way to the clothier, or even that someone else had bought the fated garment, but that Elsa had not received her message, because Elsa was no longer alive to receive it.

It was improbable, as Elsa was quite well placed due to her family and job, but in these times it was alway a possibility, one far more likely than Elsa getting her message and choosing to ignore it, or of course, having moved on from a wretch like her.

It was another six weeks before the courier arrived again, and Jocelyn’s heart sank when the bag of ill gotten goods was finally emptied and not a single thing had come her way. She turned to leave, drown her sorrows in the near lethal rotgut that passed for a drink here, but before she made it to the door she was stopped by a hand on her arm, and was confused as the couriers empty bag was pushed into her hands.

Jocelyn’s heart leapt as she rushed back to her room with her prize, which she had to turn almost inside out before she found it, the small scrap of canvas bearing an oil painting of a pair of forget-me-nots, done in Elsa’s style, and she began to weep with the relief of it, Elsa still loved her.


Part 1

Myosotis Sylvatica

If you haven’t listened to The Amazing Devil, I highly recommend them, their song “Elsa’s Song” was the inspiration for this one, along with Girlontheedge’s six-sentence-prompt BOOK. This is what I would say is a Dystopian piece about something doing something against the rules, for all the right reasons.


Elsa could hear nothing over rushing sound of her own blood pounding in her ears, as she walked along the mostly empty street, her head down, not making eye contact with those she saw, knowing any one of them could be secret police.

She needn’t be worried, not really, there was no reason to suspect her, buying a new jacket wasn’t a crime, and she was assured that the shape of the garment would conceal the secret it carried, the one that she was risking her life for.

The walk took only minutes, but it felt like hours, every glance towards her an accusation, every nearby step made by the Krali, come to arrest her for what she had done, was doing, was planning yet to do.

Finally, she had made it, she was home, and better yet, she still had it, here, safe.  She carefully removed the stiches from the jacket lining, and pulled the thin, worn, book from between the layers, gently, as it was, by far, the most previous thing she had ever owned.

Her eyes filled with tears, as she opened it to the first page, and saw not only the handwriting of her lover, whom she had not seen in so many months, but the small blue flowers dried between the pages, forget-me-nots.


Part 2