Fic: The Kiss
First a random: A few days ago ajroald and I were discussing fan fiction pet peeves. One of mine that I forgot to mention to her is related to people who have poor summaries. "I can't write a summary, but read my story..."
I'm sorry, but that kind of preamble does NOT give me the confidence in a person's writing abilities. If the writer, and I use the term loosely, can't write a simple summary, how can I trust that person to write a story of any length?
And me ranting about other writers is not the best way to introduce a fic, but I did it any way. The following short came from a photo prompt. A friend picked out the photo for me of a man with alabaster white skin standing tall and straight with beautiful posture. So I wrote the following in a 15-minute time limit.
Title: The Kiss
Author: aikakone
Rating: K (K+ if you think kissing is risque)
Summary: A woman kisses a statue and gets an unexpected result.
Words: 471
The Kiss
“He looks like David, don’t you think?” she asked.
“You’d better be careful lest you start feeling like Pygmalion,” her friend warned.
He was there, as still as stone but alive, oh so alive. It wasn’t anything she could see. He looked as still as a mannequin, but he reminded her of those portraits in the old spooky houses where the eyes follow you wherever you go. When she looked back on him, though, he was still as frozen as marble.
“I think he’s watching me,” she giggled.
“You think too much,” her friend said.
She came back every day to see him, to sit at his feet like a worshiper to her chosen idol. He’d been perfection from the Master’s hand. She saw it in his delicate features, so flawless and perfect.
“I wonder if a god cursed him and froze him in time just for me,” she said.
By that time her friend stopped listening.
She went alone one more time after that, staring at him in his yellow suit, so impassive and giving nothing. She walked to him determined to touch him. Was he real underneath his translucent exterior? She believed he was.
Walking closer to him, she reached tentative fingers out and placed them on his cheek. It was cool and as smooth as water. Trembling slightly she moved her fingers over to his lips, formed in an immaculate cupid’s bow. She allowed herself to trace the shape of his lips many times until it was memorized in her sense of touch and not just in her eyes.
He felt warm, as if he was alive, and no one was watching them. No one at all. He was so much taller than her that she had to stand on her toes, but she placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips softly to his. It felt right and real.
She licked her lips again and placed her mouth on his, memorizing the shape of his mouth with her own. He was warm, but how could that be? Was it merely her imagination that had gotten away with her? What was she doing kissing him, anyway?
Then she thought he moved. She was shocked so much she stopped. Had he been locked in time like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her kiss? Was he her own statue brought to life?
She leaned in to kiss again, desperate to be sure. The lips fit so right under hers that she could have cried, but he hadn’t moved. She’d imagined it, imagined warmth flooding from him. Her heart ached at the thought.
Then he breathed softly on her face, his wicked eyes blinking, revealing the life in him. He kissed her softly in answer to the one she had started. He had moved and would never be stone again.
I'm sorry, but that kind of preamble does NOT give me the confidence in a person's writing abilities. If the writer, and I use the term loosely, can't write a simple summary, how can I trust that person to write a story of any length?
And me ranting about other writers is not the best way to introduce a fic, but I did it any way. The following short came from a photo prompt. A friend picked out the photo for me of a man with alabaster white skin standing tall and straight with beautiful posture. So I wrote the following in a 15-minute time limit.
Title: The Kiss
Author: aikakone
Rating: K (K+ if you think kissing is risque)
Summary: A woman kisses a statue and gets an unexpected result.
Words: 471
The Kiss
“He looks like David, don’t you think?” she asked.
“You’d better be careful lest you start feeling like Pygmalion,” her friend warned.
He was there, as still as stone but alive, oh so alive. It wasn’t anything she could see. He looked as still as a mannequin, but he reminded her of those portraits in the old spooky houses where the eyes follow you wherever you go. When she looked back on him, though, he was still as frozen as marble.
“I think he’s watching me,” she giggled.
“You think too much,” her friend said.
She came back every day to see him, to sit at his feet like a worshiper to her chosen idol. He’d been perfection from the Master’s hand. She saw it in his delicate features, so flawless and perfect.
“I wonder if a god cursed him and froze him in time just for me,” she said.
By that time her friend stopped listening.
She went alone one more time after that, staring at him in his yellow suit, so impassive and giving nothing. She walked to him determined to touch him. Was he real underneath his translucent exterior? She believed he was.
Walking closer to him, she reached tentative fingers out and placed them on his cheek. It was cool and as smooth as water. Trembling slightly she moved her fingers over to his lips, formed in an immaculate cupid’s bow. She allowed herself to trace the shape of his lips many times until it was memorized in her sense of touch and not just in her eyes.
He felt warm, as if he was alive, and no one was watching them. No one at all. He was so much taller than her that she had to stand on her toes, but she placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips softly to his. It felt right and real.
She licked her lips again and placed her mouth on his, memorizing the shape of his mouth with her own. He was warm, but how could that be? Was it merely her imagination that had gotten away with her? What was she doing kissing him, anyway?
Then she thought he moved. She was shocked so much she stopped. Had he been locked in time like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her kiss? Was he her own statue brought to life?
She leaned in to kiss again, desperate to be sure. The lips fit so right under hers that she could have cried, but he hadn’t moved. She’d imagined it, imagined warmth flooding from him. Her heart ached at the thought.
Then he breathed softly on her face, his wicked eyes blinking, revealing the life in him. He kissed her softly in answer to the one she had started. He had moved and would never be stone again.