(no subject)
I am going to use this for creative writing. Hopefully i will improve and feel motivated to write more.
here are the last two stories i wrote:
Summer of Love
Unless it is two in the morning, the drive on interstate ninety five is not a smooth one; the traffic moves with the consistency of a concrete wall from six in the morning until twelve at night. The miniscule Honda Civic was nothing but a small red dot in a sea of trucks, minivans, RVs, and school busses, all crawling along at an almost solid twelve miles per hour. Inside the car was hot and stuffy; there was no air conditioning, and nothing but summer heat diffused through the open windows. Just as they though that they were going to suffocate in the thick air, the traffic let up and they were coasting, windows down, sunroof open, music up.
After weeks of planning, the trip was in motion and they were headed toward a weekend of freedom together. During the past three months they had spent every moment together. Their relationship had grown more since the start of the summer than it had in the past year. Their summer of love was turning out to be more than either of them could have expected. It is impossible to pinpoint the exact moment of conception when their relationship became more than a simple friendship. Hours of talking and listening had yet to determine the origin of the unexpected phenomenon that was their love. It was the first true love either of them had ever experienced. They were consumed by it, and flooded with promises of their future together. The feeling was like being pulled underwater by the current; one moment stable, the next moment lost under the waves straining for air.
Their summer together proved to be one of exploration and adventure. They lost all ambition to be around other people, and made an unconscious decision to commit to their friendship. The summer was their time to experiences new places and things together, a time to make the world their own. When one had a bad day, the other had a bad day; slowly they became one. They had their own place of recluse, a park that they claimed ownership of. To most people it was nothing special, but to them it was their bridge to piece of mind. Since there was no playground or swing set, it was not a hot spot for toddlers or child victims of parent planned play dates. The park consisted of a free green field bordered by dense forest and a dusty parking lot, big enough for no more than fifteen cars. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, they would sneak out together and go to their park. Something about lying in the grass under the vast expanse of stars made them feel infinite.
They spent countless hours in the car driving with no destination. The possibilities of the open road gave them the sense of freedom that defined their summer. Certain songs engraved moments of time into their memories forever. When they were together, they were untouchable. As they drove, the music blared just above their wailing voices, and passing cars gawked at their strange erratic dancing. They grooved to the music in simultaneous motion without a care as to the judgments of passersby. The small car served as their mobile home. It carried clothes, shoes, food, games, sleeping bags, and bottles of water. It housed many memories and was the site of many firsts.
That little red car was going to take them all the way to Rhode Island, where they were sneaking away to for the weekend. The summer was coming to a close and they wanted one last chance to be young and carefree. After months of camping trips, beach expeditions, and endless dining experiences they were going to revel in life on the other side of the state line. Without the blessings of their parents, they speed closer to the Atlantic and farther from their home. Filled with thrill they sang at the tops of their lungs and thrust their hands out of the sunroof. The wind fought against their muscles in an attempted to flex their fingers backward and force their arms against the rim of the roof. The same wind carried their voices out of the car, and lost them somewhere on the wild highway. Nothing would stop them from moving forward.
Being young and invincible they had the courage to do anything, they were unstoppable. School was drawing closer and would put miles between them, but their love could stretch around the world. Friendships gained at school would wither in comparison to their intimacy. They were best friends and nothing could tear them apart.
Two:
“Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart,” Said the cashier as he handed Stella her two dollars and sixty cents in all dimes. “We’re all out of ones,” he responded to her impatient breath and angry eyes as she tore her receipt from his wrinkled hands. She walked quickly out of the store. The cold outside hit her like a car crash; her eyes began to tear, and the frozen air burned her throat as she struggled to breathe. She spotted her old ’92 Buick and raced toward it. Her fingers were numb from the cold, and trying to open the ancient door felt like running them against a cheese grater. Her car started after a few tries and she sped home, wishing the entire way that she had enough money to replace her passenger window, because the arctic wind made the inside of the car feel like it was packed with snow.
By the time she made it to the apartment her eyes were red and swollen and snot was dripping from her chin. She looked like a neglected baby. She marched up the stairs and pushed open the dilapidated door to room 442. After placing her bag on the filthy counter she headed to the fridge. The basic condiments rested on the inside of the door and two containers of Chinese takeout stood facing them on the top shelf. Once again General Sow curbed Stella’s unappeasable appetite. She washed her heart attack down with diet coke and strolled into the bedroom where, thankfully, Brian was still asleep from the night before.
Almost every night there was some new disturbance in the apartments. There were plenty of fights, domestic disputes, and drug deals gone wrong, but last night was something else. Dog fighting was a common pastime for many of the neighbors, but for some it was more than just a game. They spent years training their beasts to be the most violent, the most ruthless. They starved them as young dogs, and fed them pups so they would grow to acquire a taste for blood. Late last night something had gone wrong in the dog fighting ring. Instead of attacking his opponent canine the dog went straight for his owner. The merciless murder machine mauled his owner to a pulp. The howling of the other dogs was enough to drive anyone insane, it sounded like a pack of wolves worshiping the moon. The noise and commotion which ended with two police cars, one ambulance, and one body bag had kept everyone living in the apartments up until the early morning.
The only reason Stella was up already was because this morning was the perfect opportunity to go to the store without Brian knowing. Since his current work status was unemployed he was a constant on the couch, beer in hand, watching trashy television shows. She found it impossible to leave home without a chain of twenty questions followed by a column of complaints about the apartment, car, bills, and lack of money. She could only imagine Brian’s reaction if he found out that she had to buy a pregnancy test. He knew nothing about her morning sickness because she left for the diner at five a.m., only a few hours after he went to sleep. She couldn’t figure out why she has bought the pregnancy test because she already knew that she was with child. Two months of missed menstruation and morning sickness means only one thing. She just had to be sure.
She made her way back to the counter and opened the dreaded pink and white box. After she read and reread the directions she went into the bathroom to pee on the new and improved super absorbent tip. Slowly the pink lines started to evolve on the small elliptical screen. First there was only one line, then two. The two pink lines were perpendicular to each other, creating a small plus sign. Stella rested her head on her dry palms, feeling her oily hair and acne, and she cried. She cried salty tears that ran through her fingers and fell on to the floor where the pregnancy test lay abandoned. Her tears blurred the little oval box, but couldn’t penetrate the protecting plastic. She was a carrier of the gift of life, and she wanted nothing to do with it.
here are the last two stories i wrote:
Summer of Love
Unless it is two in the morning, the drive on interstate ninety five is not a smooth one; the traffic moves with the consistency of a concrete wall from six in the morning until twelve at night. The miniscule Honda Civic was nothing but a small red dot in a sea of trucks, minivans, RVs, and school busses, all crawling along at an almost solid twelve miles per hour. Inside the car was hot and stuffy; there was no air conditioning, and nothing but summer heat diffused through the open windows. Just as they though that they were going to suffocate in the thick air, the traffic let up and they were coasting, windows down, sunroof open, music up.
After weeks of planning, the trip was in motion and they were headed toward a weekend of freedom together. During the past three months they had spent every moment together. Their relationship had grown more since the start of the summer than it had in the past year. Their summer of love was turning out to be more than either of them could have expected. It is impossible to pinpoint the exact moment of conception when their relationship became more than a simple friendship. Hours of talking and listening had yet to determine the origin of the unexpected phenomenon that was their love. It was the first true love either of them had ever experienced. They were consumed by it, and flooded with promises of their future together. The feeling was like being pulled underwater by the current; one moment stable, the next moment lost under the waves straining for air.
Their summer together proved to be one of exploration and adventure. They lost all ambition to be around other people, and made an unconscious decision to commit to their friendship. The summer was their time to experiences new places and things together, a time to make the world their own. When one had a bad day, the other had a bad day; slowly they became one. They had their own place of recluse, a park that they claimed ownership of. To most people it was nothing special, but to them it was their bridge to piece of mind. Since there was no playground or swing set, it was not a hot spot for toddlers or child victims of parent planned play dates. The park consisted of a free green field bordered by dense forest and a dusty parking lot, big enough for no more than fifteen cars. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, they would sneak out together and go to their park. Something about lying in the grass under the vast expanse of stars made them feel infinite.
They spent countless hours in the car driving with no destination. The possibilities of the open road gave them the sense of freedom that defined their summer. Certain songs engraved moments of time into their memories forever. When they were together, they were untouchable. As they drove, the music blared just above their wailing voices, and passing cars gawked at their strange erratic dancing. They grooved to the music in simultaneous motion without a care as to the judgments of passersby. The small car served as their mobile home. It carried clothes, shoes, food, games, sleeping bags, and bottles of water. It housed many memories and was the site of many firsts.
That little red car was going to take them all the way to Rhode Island, where they were sneaking away to for the weekend. The summer was coming to a close and they wanted one last chance to be young and carefree. After months of camping trips, beach expeditions, and endless dining experiences they were going to revel in life on the other side of the state line. Without the blessings of their parents, they speed closer to the Atlantic and farther from their home. Filled with thrill they sang at the tops of their lungs and thrust their hands out of the sunroof. The wind fought against their muscles in an attempted to flex their fingers backward and force their arms against the rim of the roof. The same wind carried their voices out of the car, and lost them somewhere on the wild highway. Nothing would stop them from moving forward.
Being young and invincible they had the courage to do anything, they were unstoppable. School was drawing closer and would put miles between them, but their love could stretch around the world. Friendships gained at school would wither in comparison to their intimacy. They were best friends and nothing could tear them apart.
Two:
“Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart,” Said the cashier as he handed Stella her two dollars and sixty cents in all dimes. “We’re all out of ones,” he responded to her impatient breath and angry eyes as she tore her receipt from his wrinkled hands. She walked quickly out of the store. The cold outside hit her like a car crash; her eyes began to tear, and the frozen air burned her throat as she struggled to breathe. She spotted her old ’92 Buick and raced toward it. Her fingers were numb from the cold, and trying to open the ancient door felt like running them against a cheese grater. Her car started after a few tries and she sped home, wishing the entire way that she had enough money to replace her passenger window, because the arctic wind made the inside of the car feel like it was packed with snow.
By the time she made it to the apartment her eyes were red and swollen and snot was dripping from her chin. She looked like a neglected baby. She marched up the stairs and pushed open the dilapidated door to room 442. After placing her bag on the filthy counter she headed to the fridge. The basic condiments rested on the inside of the door and two containers of Chinese takeout stood facing them on the top shelf. Once again General Sow curbed Stella’s unappeasable appetite. She washed her heart attack down with diet coke and strolled into the bedroom where, thankfully, Brian was still asleep from the night before.
Almost every night there was some new disturbance in the apartments. There were plenty of fights, domestic disputes, and drug deals gone wrong, but last night was something else. Dog fighting was a common pastime for many of the neighbors, but for some it was more than just a game. They spent years training their beasts to be the most violent, the most ruthless. They starved them as young dogs, and fed them pups so they would grow to acquire a taste for blood. Late last night something had gone wrong in the dog fighting ring. Instead of attacking his opponent canine the dog went straight for his owner. The merciless murder machine mauled his owner to a pulp. The howling of the other dogs was enough to drive anyone insane, it sounded like a pack of wolves worshiping the moon. The noise and commotion which ended with two police cars, one ambulance, and one body bag had kept everyone living in the apartments up until the early morning.
The only reason Stella was up already was because this morning was the perfect opportunity to go to the store without Brian knowing. Since his current work status was unemployed he was a constant on the couch, beer in hand, watching trashy television shows. She found it impossible to leave home without a chain of twenty questions followed by a column of complaints about the apartment, car, bills, and lack of money. She could only imagine Brian’s reaction if he found out that she had to buy a pregnancy test. He knew nothing about her morning sickness because she left for the diner at five a.m., only a few hours after he went to sleep. She couldn’t figure out why she has bought the pregnancy test because she already knew that she was with child. Two months of missed menstruation and morning sickness means only one thing. She just had to be sure.
She made her way back to the counter and opened the dreaded pink and white box. After she read and reread the directions she went into the bathroom to pee on the new and improved super absorbent tip. Slowly the pink lines started to evolve on the small elliptical screen. First there was only one line, then two. The two pink lines were perpendicular to each other, creating a small plus sign. Stella rested her head on her dry palms, feeling her oily hair and acne, and she cried. She cried salty tears that ran through her fingers and fell on to the floor where the pregnancy test lay abandoned. Her tears blurred the little oval box, but couldn’t penetrate the protecting plastic. She was a carrier of the gift of life, and she wanted nothing to do with it.