Time to start writing stories. No science-fiction? I suppose I'll have to deal. What else to write about? A love story? I'll have to think about that one.
Chapter 1
She didn't love him any more, and he didn't think he loved her either. Yet on they went, day after day acting out roles learned from their parents long ago. Why keep up the charade? Why not separate and be happy? It seemed to be in their mutual interest, though neither would be able to admit to the other. There was no hate, only sadness. Resentment had been built up and dispersed again and again so many times there was no energy for that any more. He had dreams of travel and excitement. Exotic locales and attractive, interesting women. She had dreams of-- he didn't know what she dreamed of, and he supposed that was part of the problem.
She was getting up now, rustling through the pile of clothes on the floor, fumbling in the glow of the pre-sunrise sky. She sat on the bed and as the walls of their one-bedroom apartment closed in she took a deep breath, stood up abruptly and made for the door. He heard the harsh wooden slam and the clatter of jingling keys followed by the inconsolable shriek of the floor planks pinching up against one another as she walked down the hall and proceeded down the steps to the front door. It slammed with a muffled thud. Silence.
He rolled over, tucked the quilt between his legs; twisting like a pretzel he discarded his warm, stuffy pillows for her fresh and cool ones. The promise of the morning sun had given way to a bland white sky. Fowl cackled far above his head announcing their intentions to travel south where they would be received with loving sunlight and sustenance in abundance. He wished he could go with them.
Chapter 2
She dove her hands deep into her pockets and tucked her chin into her chest. Her breath steamed in two pillars cleft by her thin face, like smoke rising from the nostrils of a dragon. She traced her steps to the cold, iron bench by memory, not lifting her eyes once for guidance. The roar of the diesel engine rang from the distance as it meandered through the village streets along its preset path. When it arrived, the vehicle sighed loudly as it kneeled before her, inviting her in to its warm belly.
Chapter 1
She didn't love him any more, and he didn't think he loved her either. Yet on they went, day after day acting out roles learned from their parents long ago. Why keep up the charade? Why not separate and be happy? It seemed to be in their mutual interest, though neither would be able to admit to the other. There was no hate, only sadness. Resentment had been built up and dispersed again and again so many times there was no energy for that any more. He had dreams of travel and excitement. Exotic locales and attractive, interesting women. She had dreams of-- he didn't know what she dreamed of, and he supposed that was part of the problem.
She was getting up now, rustling through the pile of clothes on the floor, fumbling in the glow of the pre-sunrise sky. She sat on the bed and as the walls of their one-bedroom apartment closed in she took a deep breath, stood up abruptly and made for the door. He heard the harsh wooden slam and the clatter of jingling keys followed by the inconsolable shriek of the floor planks pinching up against one another as she walked down the hall and proceeded down the steps to the front door. It slammed with a muffled thud. Silence.
He rolled over, tucked the quilt between his legs; twisting like a pretzel he discarded his warm, stuffy pillows for her fresh and cool ones. The promise of the morning sun had given way to a bland white sky. Fowl cackled far above his head announcing their intentions to travel south where they would be received with loving sunlight and sustenance in abundance. He wished he could go with them.
Chapter 2
She dove her hands deep into her pockets and tucked her chin into her chest. Her breath steamed in two pillars cleft by her thin face, like smoke rising from the nostrils of a dragon. She traced her steps to the cold, iron bench by memory, not lifting her eyes once for guidance. The roar of the diesel engine rang from the distance as it meandered through the village streets along its preset path. When it arrived, the vehicle sighed loudly as it kneeled before her, inviting her in to its warm belly.
