1. What is the best piece of writing advice you’ve been given? It's not advice, really, but it's my favorite quote by an author about writing and it pretty much sums up how I go at it.
“You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.”- Jack London
2. The first and last books you fell in love with? The first? Ummm.....probably Black Beauty or The Black Stallion. I was very into horses as a girl. The most recent book to really grab me was The Fault In Our Stars.
3. What's happening outside the nearest window? I live on a quiet street in Brooklyn, so not much. Someone might be parking their car.
4. If you could delete one word from the English language, which one would it be? Moist. I've never ever found a place in writing where only that word will work. There's always a better way to say it.
5. Suppose you could travel to any place in time and history. When and where are you going? Oh no. WAY too hard! I'm a history buff and a travel junkie and naturally curious, so you could drop me pretty much anywhere in history and I'd find something of interest. Maybe the execution of Anne Boleyn or the storming of the Basteille in 1789 or the Chicago World's Fair in 1893 or the liberation of Paris in 1944... I could go on and on.
2. The first and last books you fell in love with? The first? Ummm.....probably Black Beauty or The Black Stallion. I was very into horses as a girl. The most recent book to really grab me was The Fault In Our Stars.
3. What's happening outside the nearest window? I live on a quiet street in Brooklyn, so not much. Someone might be parking their car.
4. If you could delete one word from the English language, which one would it be? Moist. I've never ever found a place in writing where only that word will work. There's always a better way to say it.
5. Suppose you could travel to any place in time and history. When and where are you going? Oh no. WAY too hard! I'm a history buff and a travel junkie and naturally curious, so you could drop me pretty much anywhere in history and I'd find something of interest. Maybe the execution of Anne Boleyn or the storming of the Basteille in 1789 or the Chicago World's Fair in 1893 or the liberation of Paris in 1944... I could go on and on.
*drumroll*
FIRST PLACE... @darlingveruca
He’s not sure if she’ll show. They only met the night before, after all. His company got the word they were going home - the war was over. Thank God, they were finally going home.
The club, filled with smoke, clinking glasses, had this mood that lifted you up, held you high on its shoulders. Then there she was, like something out of a black and white. Boy, was she pretty.
It’s getting late. He needs to report back within the hour.
He figured, why not? “Hello, ma’am,” he said, and she gave him this look that made him go warm inside.
They danced until her feet hurt – she said as much. He said, “Stand on mine. I’ll do the work.” Because damned if he wanted to stop holding this special girl.
He’s pretty certain she’s not coming. Strangers smile and nod. He returns their gestures half-heartedly.
She kissed his cheek and he was positive she was the one. His brother would call him crazy for falling in love in one night.
He smiles because there she is running down the sidewalk, to him, and he knows she feels it too. She says, “Come back” and he says “Oh, yes.”
SECOND PLACE... @Aleeab4u
"Life is uncertain."
That's what you said when we met and I asked, "Who do you love? What will you be?"
I smiled at your answer, because for me everything was certain.
You were meant to be mine.
And for a while you were. Blissfully so. Days of laughter and soft as air kisses. Nights of touch, and oh, and yes, please, where you lifted me to the stars and held me there, suspended and trembling.
"Life is uncertain."
That's what you said when the war began, and you were drafted within hours.
You held me close and whispered nonsense into my hair.
"Be strong. Don't cry."
As if either were possible.
I kissed you goodbye, held your taste on my tongue for as long as I could.
Sporadic letters gave way to months of silence and then, finally. . . you came home.
I watched you walk to me, handsome in your uniform, though I could see in your eyes the change in you, the weight of things never undone or unseen.
You slid your hands around my waist and sighed, and I knew as I held you.
'Life' is uncertain.
Never us.
Welcome home, love.
THIRD PLACE... @sandyquill
“I’m leaving,” he told her, posture erect.
She stopped next to the gate that led down to the train. “Today?” With an embarrassed look that encompassed his uniform, she jerked her head. “Of course. Well, you know I wish you only the best.” The awkwardness of their entire... acquaintance... suffused her voice, making her words quiet, stilted. She tried to meet his eyes.
He took in the white knuckles that gripped her gloves, the unyielding lines of her body, and felt his heart crash. “May I write to you?”
Relief flared in her gaze. “Of course.”
Marshaling courage that seemed overdone for a city street, he swallowed. “And may I, just this once, kiss you?” At her hesitation, he grew bold. “Please. Just in case.”
Pain folded her in cold arms. “All right. Just this once.” He’s off to war. He could die. She reminded herself of these things and nodded her permission.
Expression solemn, he touched her waist. Their lips met, a swift caress on a street corner, before he nodded and thanked her.
His step was slow as he walked down to the train.
She didn’t move for fifteen minutes, her bare fingers pressed to her mouth.
HONOURABLE MENTION... @quietdrabble
“Tell me again.” The childlike wonder lit in her eyes as I tugged the blanket up under her chin.
“We met in a small cafe …” I began the story as I did every time. I’d repeated the words so many times, I easily transitioned to the film reel inside my head: his piercing eyes, tracing my every movement that first night, his warm hands as they held my waist and we danced for the first time. Our first embrace, our first kiss, the first time we made love, each memory embedded deeply in my mind. Not a moment passed without thoughts of my love. Sending him off to war with one last kiss, I carried our unborn daughter inside my womb.
“…then your daddy kissed me. His parting words …”
“I’ll be seeing you,” her small voice rang out.
“Yeah, baby.” I brushed her cheek.
“Daddy was handsome.” Her chubby fingers traced the picture I clutched. “Mama, do you think Daddy would have loved me as much as he loved you?”
“Oh, I’m absolutely sure of it, sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead goodnight.
“I’ll be seeing you.”
I heard the ghost of a whisper on remembered lips echo through the night.
CONGRATULATIONS to second time winner @darlingveruca.
Thank you to @spanglemaker9 for judging, and to everyone who participated.
See you all next week.
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