Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Waiting For News

My second story...



            Susan tapped her foot as the numbers slowly counted down to one. As the door opened, a young man smiled as he brushed past her. She didn’t audibly grunt, but in her mind she did. Pushing the button, she stared at the floor tile like it had spoken great words of wisdom to her. She counted the quiet beeps up to her floor and stepped off into the bright, active space.

            Pushing past several co-workers, she found her way to her cubicle and ducked in. As she sat, she released a sigh that sounded like she had been holding her breath the whole way up in the elevator. “My, that sounds like frustration if I’ve ever heard it,” came the voice from the other side of the cubicle wall. “Want to talk about it?”

            “Not really,” Susan barked, which caused the owner of the voice to stand and come around the divider. Susan’s friend Anne stood with her fists on her hips and a scowl that matched Susan’s mood.

            “Well, somebody is grumpy. Miss our morning cup of happiness?”

            “No, and I don’t want to talk about it right now. Can I just get to work?”

            “Sure.” Anne’s tone softened, “Let me know when you are ready to chat”. Susan nodded and Anne returned to her space. Susan felt like slinging everything from her desk, but that would only raise more questions.

            Digging into the piles of work on her desk, Susan was able to ignore the clock on her computer screen for a while, but as lunchtime neared, it felt like she looked at it every ten minutes but only one had actually passed. Why was time moving so slowly?

She knew the answer to that. The one thing that Susan hated more than anything was waiting. It seemed like the more she wanted to know something, the longer the answer was delayed. The answer was not coming until after four this afternoon, so she had not choice but to wait.

            Anne’s head popped up again. “Do you want to get lunch?” Before Susan could refuse, she added, “Good way to distract yourself from whatever is bugging you, at least for an hour.” Knowing her friend was right, Susan reached in and grabbed her purse and followed Anne to the elevator.

            Blinded temporarily by the sun, the two women hesitated at the doorway before they made their way to their favorite deli. They settled into charming bistro chairs outside and unwrapped the meaty sandwiches. The smell of the spicy mustard hit Susan and her eyes teared up a little. Blinking, she cleared them before her friend looked up at her again. She didn’t want to talk about it, so no sense getting emotional.

            They sat in silence and Anne contentedly munched her sandwich, but Susan felt like everything was going in slow motion as she played with her sandwich, not eating. Anne broke their bubble of quiet, “You aren’t eating. Please tell me what is bugging you.”

            “I’m just waiting to hear from someone and I know the call won’t come until later this afternoon. You know me, not the most patient person in the world!” Smiling as big as she could, Susan picked up the sandwich and made herself take a big bite. She couldn’t tell if Anne was buying her story, but her friend changed the subject and started chatting about the latest office gossip.

            The first hour back at work went like the morning, time creeping along while Susan tried to focus on the words on her screen. Even the mouse was going against her, refusing to scroll properly so the pages moved in slow motion. Suddenly, she realized that time had flown to three o’clock. Only an hour until she could expect the call.

            The realization hit her hard. Her stomach tightened, making her regret the sandwich, her head pounded and her heart felt like she had been in a race. Fear. Fear of the call. She wanted the call, she didn’t want the call. The call was going to come and even if it didn’t eventually she would have to know the answer. The thought terrified her.

            Should she go home so she could get the call there instead of the office? No, she thought, she had come in late this morning and leaving early was frowned upon. Besides, if it was bad news, she really would need Anne close by. Anne was her best friend and the closest thing she had to family here. She regretted not telling her about the call. Maybe she should tell her now…

            “Anne, could you come over here, I need to tell you something,” Immediately she came around the corner, pulling her office chair with her.

            “I’m glad you are ready to talk. I was getting very concerned about you.”

            “I have been waiting for a phone call,” Susan started.

            “You said that earlier. From who?” Anne leaned forward and grabbed Susan’s hand.

            “The doctor.” As the words left her mouth, the phone rang. It was 3:30. Not the doctor’s office yet, it was too early, but she needed to answer it. “Hang on a minute,” as she picked up the call.

            Anne watched her friend’s face as she listened to the caller. Worry had been there all day, but it changed as the call went on. Occasionally Susan would mumble, “Yes” into the phone, but she hung up silently and was still. Minutes passed before she turned, tears in her eyes and said, “I have cancer.”



Sunday, August 2, 2015

First short story

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OK...First short story...finished in two 30 minute sessions. What do you think?


I will not be beaten by an inanimate object.

Usually, I don’t have to worry about opening jars. My husband could open anything… I wish…
Well, wishing won’t do any good. He isn’t going to walk in the door today.

How many times had he done this for me? I never thought about how much it meant to me.

What other things did he do for me? Did I value those things?

Maybe I just won’t ever eat pickles again. That isn’t reasonable.

Sit down and calm down.

What else can I do to open this jar?

What am I going to do?

I can’t go on this way; I have to figure out how to live without him.

I could get one of those jar-opening thingies…that only solves this problem.

What about the bills? How will I pay everything? The house, the car, the insurance.
I guess I can get a second job…not like I don’t have the extra time on my hands now.

I hate this.

Why me? Why him?
Why now?

I hate the night…so alone…so quiet. Even the fan doesn’t keep it from being quiet.
I hate every night from now until forever.

Forever…alone…forever…really? Will I be alone forever? I could get a cat. Not that a cat would help with the pickle jar.

I have to think about this in a different way. Not alone…independent. I can do this…I don’t want to…

I can, I must. I have no choice now.

The pickle jar. I can find a solution to this. I can find a solution to my other problems.

But can I mend my heart…that is at the center of this problem. My heart.

Is it broken so bad that it can’t be fixed? What do other people do?

What did Mom do? She went on with her life…but then, she had me and my sister.

She didn’t have any choice either.

Do any of us have a choice in this situation?

We do have a choice. We can chose to wallow in our sadness or we can face the sadness and accept it and move on in our lives.

I have a choice.

But what if I need help? Who can I turn to?

Mom can’t help…she has enough trouble managing her own life. I’m afraid that my problems make her nervous and she might have another episode.

Everyone else is too far away. They want to be there for me, but they have their own lives. I am alone.

Am I really alone? Who did I rely on before I got married? Surely not myself! I was a mess…worse than I am now.

I used to go to church. Why did I stop? I don’t remember why. It didn’t seem to matter then.

What would church do for me? I guess it would help keep me from being lonely…maybe. There are a lot of people there.

Do I really need people? Is it only people? Or do I need to feel something. I know I don’t want to feel how I feel right now.

Alone. Sad. Angry! Why? Why him? Why now?

Who am I angry with? God?

Really? Am I angry with God? Did God do this to me?

They say He is the one in control. Did He rip my life apart?

Or was it just coincidence?

I have heard the preacher say that God lets us make our own choices. Was that what happened? My husband made his own choice and I have to live with the results of it…

Am I angry with God? If I am, there is no point to it. Being angry at God doesn’t change what happened. And what if God is who I should be leaning on right now.

God can comfort me…I guess I wouldn’t feel so alone all the time.

I will go to church this Sunday. I can go to the church where the funeral was held. Those people seemed nice and the preacher was very helpful…I was in shock and I don’t even remember if I thanked him. Maybe I can at least do that when I go on Sunday.

Still won’t help with the pickle jar.

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Writing Again

I decided that in order to improve my writing skills and to force myself to write I would take an online writing course. I signed up through Canvas Network to take a course called Stunt Wring for Personal Growth. I hope it works. I often can make myself sew or quilt, but I rarely sit down to write. I found that I struggle even when I am writing for a test where I have a time limit. This is not acceptable. Not any more...Part of my requirements for the "stunt" includes posting results on my blog. here is the plan I submitted...

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PARAMETERS DOCUMENT
STUNTWRITING FOR PERSONAL GROWTH
INSTRUCTOR: Erin Jourdan

Creating the Parameters of Your Stunt:
·      I commit to writing for 30 minutes every day.
·      My stunt is focused around: Writing a complete short story
·      I will increase the complexity of my story each week.
WEEK ONE I will focus on writing a story about one person and her life for one day.
WEEK TWO I will focus on writing a story about a couple and their lives for one day.
WEEK THREE I will focus on writing a story about a family and their lives for one day.

#1 Write a short paragraph about what your stunt is, this will be your “plan of attack.”
I have always been good at coming up with ideas for stories, characters, and plot twists, but I can never seem to finish a complete story. For the next three weeks, I will make myself complete three short stories. After I write I will document how I completed the process and various ways I motivated myself. Each story will include dialog, setting, and one conflict. I will work on the story for 30 minutes a day in addition to the time I write for the stunt.

#2 Create Restrictions: Removal, Consequences, Places, People, Research, Data, Change and Practice

-Removal: I will not have the T.V. on in the room I am working.
-Consequences: I will walk for 20 minutes if I do not write each day.
-Places: I will find a quiet place in the house.
-People: I will ask three people outside my family to read my story.
-Things:I will carry my writing notebook with me all the time.
-Research: I will make sure that my stories are based on real-life and facts.
-Data: I will post each story to my blog and link it to my Facebook page.
-Change: I will limit my ideas so that I can complete the story.
-Practice: I will write down all ideas as they come to me whenever it happens.
-Practice: I will keep my writing notebook with me at all times.
-Practice: I will not give up…


Keep accountable....