Short short story.
I've heard that sometimes, the best fiction is the fiction that is reflective of real life. "Write what ya know." So that's what I'm doing.
For my short story writing class this past semester, we had to write a short short story in response to another classmate's story. I chose someone's story called: The Game. It was about a dude and his friends who play "the game" of picking up girls in bars and bringing them home for one night stands. This is my response story:
Break or Bury (495 words)
I was dreaming, and I was there again. He was in my room - my bed - for the first time. We were in darkness, lying close together. I glanced upward suddenly, and the night sky stretched on for centuries, taking me in. I was lost in its depth for hours, I think, or maybe just minutes. And then the song began to play.
I ran my nose down the edge of his ear and whispered, "Listen."
My face, a mirror image of his, rested atop lace bedding. And I began to sing, "This night is wild, so calm and dull. These hearts they race, from self-control."
Our hearts were racing. I could see them galloping off together past the stars, one gaining on the other and then falling behind again - the same pattern repeating itself. Both were stretching toward a finish line they could not yet see. They could have been lost, but I knew better.
My mouth inches from his, I grazed his lips lightly with my thumb and sang, “My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me! Won't you kill me, so I'll die happy?" His hand on the small of my back pulled me closer and closer still. Our breath was everywhere and we were everywhere, but the night’s sky was unforeseeable and he pulled me closer still. I let him. I let me.
And the last words reverberated inside of me and eventually outside of me straight into his ear: "My heart is yours, to fill or burst, to break or bury, or wear as jewelry."
Our elation was so great it was torment - absolute, immeasurable agony. He broke me as I broke him. One glance was all it took. Eyes of coal floating with uncertainty stared back at mine, again, a mirror image of his. We were in it together. Until the end. Until the end.
The night sky was no longer out above me, but all around me. I was in it and knew nothing else but this darkness. I groped around helplessly for the light switch, but not even a wall could be found. I just kept falling and floating and falling again.
With a sharp, startling intake of breath, I rose. Oh my god, where am I? A few glances around the filthy room told me enough - not to mention the snoring, sweating oaf lying next to me. I need to find my shirt before he wakes up, I reminded myself.
As I swung my leg over the side of the bed, I hit it hard on the corner of the guy’s desk. “Shit!” Oww, fuck! That hurt!
Another intake of breath not belonging to me informed me that I was discovered. As I gathered my clothes as quickly as possible before I had to actually talk to the guy, I remembered my dream and, not for the first time, recalled why I play this little game. It’s simple - because it’s easy. And others aren’t.
For my short story writing class this past semester, we had to write a short short story in response to another classmate's story. I chose someone's story called: The Game. It was about a dude and his friends who play "the game" of picking up girls in bars and bringing them home for one night stands. This is my response story:
Break or Bury (495 words)
I was dreaming, and I was there again. He was in my room - my bed - for the first time. We were in darkness, lying close together. I glanced upward suddenly, and the night sky stretched on for centuries, taking me in. I was lost in its depth for hours, I think, or maybe just minutes. And then the song began to play.
I ran my nose down the edge of his ear and whispered, "Listen."
My face, a mirror image of his, rested atop lace bedding. And I began to sing, "This night is wild, so calm and dull. These hearts they race, from self-control."
Our hearts were racing. I could see them galloping off together past the stars, one gaining on the other and then falling behind again - the same pattern repeating itself. Both were stretching toward a finish line they could not yet see. They could have been lost, but I knew better.
My mouth inches from his, I grazed his lips lightly with my thumb and sang, “My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me! Won't you kill me, so I'll die happy?" His hand on the small of my back pulled me closer and closer still. Our breath was everywhere and we were everywhere, but the night’s sky was unforeseeable and he pulled me closer still. I let him. I let me.
And the last words reverberated inside of me and eventually outside of me straight into his ear: "My heart is yours, to fill or burst, to break or bury, or wear as jewelry."
Our elation was so great it was torment - absolute, immeasurable agony. He broke me as I broke him. One glance was all it took. Eyes of coal floating with uncertainty stared back at mine, again, a mirror image of his. We were in it together. Until the end. Until the end.
The night sky was no longer out above me, but all around me. I was in it and knew nothing else but this darkness. I groped around helplessly for the light switch, but not even a wall could be found. I just kept falling and floating and falling again.
With a sharp, startling intake of breath, I rose. Oh my god, where am I? A few glances around the filthy room told me enough - not to mention the snoring, sweating oaf lying next to me. I need to find my shirt before he wakes up, I reminded myself.
As I swung my leg over the side of the bed, I hit it hard on the corner of the guy’s desk. “Shit!” Oww, fuck! That hurt!
Another intake of breath not belonging to me informed me that I was discovered. As I gathered my clothes as quickly as possible before I had to actually talk to the guy, I remembered my dream and, not for the first time, recalled why I play this little game. It’s simple - because it’s easy. And others aren’t.