Week Ten Writing

In the manner of Lorrie Moore, make a list of events that took place on a day in the past week. From this list determine which offer the greatest opportunity as scenes. If you like, make another list, but this time base it on a longstanding relationship (in other words, follow Moore's example even more closely). Once you have done so, select two or three scenes from either (or both) of the above and think about how you might link them up in ways that reveal the character relationships to best effect. Also think about where to begin and end each scene.

- One:

You’re shaking as you walk up behind her. You’ve quietly admired her for weeks, her celestial beauty outshining the stars themselves. She’s the kind of woman that walks into the room and commands all the attention on her with her electric glowing magic. Her vivacity. Her love for life. It’s infectious and addictive; being in her presence makes you feel like a moth to a flame. Watching her dance is like art in motion.

And now you have been paired with her. Have to touch her. For the very first time.

Gliding your hands up her torso, breathing her in as a shiver goes down your spine, your breath unsteady in your lungs. She’s bold, sexy and confident, everything you wish you were. This is more than admiration you realise; this is adoration.

You try to keep your mind on the task at hand without much success. Her perfume scatters your thoughts. After a few fumbles, she grasps your hands in hers, and you feel your heart cease to beat. She shows you the correct movement, smiling softly over her shoulder. Your returning smile is shakey, as a warm glow is sent over your whole body.

From that moment, the exercise feels as natural as breathing. It becomes difficult for you to define where you end and she begins; you both move as one. Your once ungainly actions take on her delicate elegance.

When they choreograph the final section, you feel your heart pound in your ears. They want you to what? She smiles at you once more, encouraging you to do as they have directed.

You crouch low behind her, wetting your lips as you attempt to remember to breathe. Your hands shake uncontrollably as you reach out to softly place your hands on her ankles. As you make contact with her soft skin, you feel sparks explode up your fingertips. You glare at your hands; they seem too rough and worn when compared to the perfect delicacy of her milky ankles.

Slowly, barely daring to breathe, you trace the gentle pathway up her calves, coiling your way up her thighs and over her hips, reaching your journey’s end at her sensuous waist.

Your eyes drift shut without your own volition, and for a second you feel as if there is no one else in the room other than you and her.

The instructor’s voice cuts through your illusion like a knife, and you drop your hands like lightning. She turns slowly to face you, a smile playing on her lips. Is it just your besotted imagination, or is there a new fire in her eyes? Perhaps it was clear that your caress was that of a lover, not of a dance partner. An unworthy worshiping at the likeness of the deity.

Her musical voice forms words that you don’t understand, and before you can respond, she drifts away like a wisp of air, leaving you feeling elated and emptied all at the same time.

- Two:

You’ve never cared for nightclubs. They don’t allow you to dance with the same freedom that you can in the studio. The rhythmic pulse of the repetitive songs doesn’t hold the same magic for you as Debussy or Tchaikovsky.

But you’re here because she’s here. If only for the pleasure of watching her glide through the raucous crowds, glowing as if she had her own personal follow spot. Most of the time, she doesn’t even notice you, but that’s alright. You’ll still be there at the end of the night to walk her home and know she’s safe. You would endure hell itself for the heavenly two minutes where she throws her arms around you and hugs you to her.

Tonight is different though; your hackles are up as you watch the predatory males circling her like prey. You eye each of them in turn, assessing that none of them are worthy enough to come within five steps of your precious queen.

Fighting your way anxiously through the crowds, you come up beside her and draw her closer to you. “I don’t like the way that guy’s staring at you.” You shout in her ear above the music, indicating the closest contender sauntering his way towards you.

She glances over to him swiftly and nods, allowing you to take her hand and drag her away through the pit of people.

When you’re safely ensconced in a far corner of the room where no one can see you, you let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding. She was safe now. Safe.

“What would I do without you?” She asks lightly, laughter in her voice.

You smile at her silently. She will never have to find out if you have any say in the matter.

“No, seriously.” She takes a step closer to you, glancing down at your lips. You see that self-same fire flicker in her eyes as was present at the end of your dance.

“Have you ever kissed a girl, Chloe?” Her voice has dropped in tone, making her sound like a seductress in the half-light.

Your palms begin to sweat as she moves even closer, reaching out softly and placing a hand around your waist. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

A few particles of air are all that stands between you now as you shake your head, swallowing hard. Slowly, she wets her lips with her tongue, and tilts her head ever so slightly that her lips almost brush your own, slipping her right-hand softly into the curls of your hair as she does so.

Her gaze dips between your lips and your eyes, and without thinking you reach your hands up around her neck, toying with her amazingly soft hair like you’ve been dying to for weeks.

“Would you like to?” She breathes, and suddenly conscious thought is impossible. After weeks of admiring her from afar, believing that you would have to forever keep your desires a secret, and knowing that you may never get another opportunity like this again, you close the gap and press your lips to hers as the loud music reverberates around you.

Your mind overloads with thoughts for a second.

And then you stop thinking.

The feeling is paradisical. Her lips are sweet, eager. No amount of time will ever be enough to savour this moment.

Everything other than her melts away around you. You are the only two people in the whole world. You feel overwhelmed by the feelings you’ve been attempting to quash for weeks; they threaten to drown you from within. Surely she feels it too?

Her hands slowly begin to shift, and reluctantly you release her, letting the world around slip back into awareness. As your faces meet, there is an intensity in her eyes that you haven’t seen before.

You can’t decide how you feel. She’s laughing, whilst your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest. You smile, beam even. This is too much joy.

Nothing verbal passes between you, but in that instant it’s like you’ve said everything there is to say. You wonder why you never saw it; that look in her eyes that is screaming how much she wants you. You thought you were the only one. You thought so many things…

Abruptly, her hand on your waist jerks you back into her kiss. She tastes amazing. You can’t stop laughing to yourself as you kiss her; over and over again, never wanting it to end. Not because it’s funny but because you are filled with such incredible happiness. Her scent overwhelms and envelops you like a warm blanket. Her hands on you are soft and tender, better than any imaginings could have conjured.

- Three:

You sit beside her in the crowded booth with all your friends. She’s changed her perfume since the last time you saw her. And the pixie cut; you’d heard she’d donated her long brown locks to the “Little Princess Trust” a couple of months before, but the reality suits her more than you had imagined it would.

You wait for the fluttering of your heart, or the feeling of pulling towards her. But no, it’s not there anymore. Is it possible that only a few months ago your soul was consumed by this person? For that is all she is. No longer a symbol of perfection to be worshipped.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

Was she ever even yours?

You glance across the table at her new girl; so very different from you. Her auburn hair falls around her face like ravaging flames and her face is soft with smiles. It seems that this girl has never known a single insecurity. Not like you. She’s a happy, beautiful girl. She’s never felt worthless. Never had her heart truly broken. Never had her soul crushed beneath someone’s feet.

But then again, Alex is nothing like she was. His kisses are full of soul, his hands more reverent than hers were. With him, you don’t feel as if you’re unworthy. You feel treasured.

He helped you repair that gaping hole in your heart and fill it with something better.

You’re grateful to him; he’s shown you what love should be. A partner who loves you for who you are. A partner who won’t hurt you. He’s gentle on your heart.

She told you once that love could burn. Maybe that was her way of warning you away.

The brightest stars burn the briefest after all.

In seminar, we were given a 7-minute writing exercise which was supposed to follow the structure: summary, scene, summary, scene. Our prompt was “the letter had clearly been opened”

(I didn’t have enough time to take this where I would have liked, and I didn’t quite adhere to the structure; I just kept writing. I may go back through it at some stage and pick whatever bits might be useful.)

“What’s the meaning of this?” Edward strode into the room, holding the letter scrunched up in his fist.

“What’s the meaning of what?” Daisy asked, refusing to look up from her breakfast else her satisfied smile would betray her.

Edward appeared at the side of her chair, took her arm roughly and pulled her to her feet in his usual manner. “Why did you open my letter?” he growled at her through gritted teeth.

Her face as cold as stone, Daisy didn’t react to his vice-like grip nor his vicious expression.

“Why do you presume I did?”

“Answer the damn question.” Edward’s grip tightened around her upper arm, and Daisy had to bite down to avoid making any noise that would indicate he had put her in pain. “It’s addressed to me.”

Daisy’s green eyes grew hot enough to singe as she glared at him. “I opened it because I recognised the handwriting.”

Caught off guard by this declaration, Edward hesitated, dropping her arm as if it had given him a shock. He moved across the room swiftly to stare out of the window whilst Daisy sat down once more. If she hadn’t known him as well as she did, Daisy would have said the look upon his face was almost remorseful.

“How long?”

Edward looked up. “Ever since Nathaniel passed.”

Daisy had to take calming breaths to stop herself from striding across the room and striking him across the face, her red-headed temper boiling to the surface. It would do no good, and he would undoubtedly strike her twice as hard in return. “Do you love her?” She forced herself to ask.

Turning to glance at her over his shoulder, Edward smiled softly. “You know I do. I’ve always loved Katherine.” He looked out of the window dreamily. She is a freshly cut diamond amongst a pile of charcoal.”

Trying to pretend that his remarks didn’t hurt her deep inside, Daisy straightened her back and drew her mouth into a firm line. “I stayed for you when she married Nathaniel.” She spoke acidly. “I was there to pick up the pieces.”

“You say that as if you care one iota about me. I know you’ve never loved me; you only stayed because you knew you had no better options.”

“Do not pretend to know my feelings.” Daisy retorted sharply, biting back the hot tears which threatened to fall. After all these years, she had realised it proved nothing for her to lose her composure around her husband.

Silence reigned between the two for a few moments. Daisy’s thoughts raced violently; if

Katherine had decided she would steal Edward away from her once more, Daisy knew far well there was precious little she could do about it.

Putting her teacup down into the saucer with a definitive clink, Daisy spoke softly. “I’m leaving you.”

Edward scoffed, not even turning his head. “No you’re not.”

“I won’t be second to her. Not again.” Daisy rose from her chair and walked towards the door.

Seizing her wrist harshly as she passed him by and pulling her to him, Edward smiled darkly as Daisy gasped. It could be shock or pain; he didn’t mind. “You’re mine.”

Daisy glared, shaking off his grip. When she spoke, her voice was sickly sweet with sarcasm. “I should think it would be rather above you to have two women, even if one is a harlot.”

Her head snapping to the side swiftly as his palm made sharp contact with her cheek, Daisy smiled grimly. “Don’t you ever call her that.” He snarled.

“And what if I do?” Daisy challenged him, meeting his eyes with fierce determination.

For a moment, Daisy wondered if she would receive another strike, but suddenly the look in his eyes changed. He kissed her then, aggressive and possessive as always. And yet Daisy found herself submitting to it, even moaning into his mouth as he grasped at her flesh with his rough hands.

Throwing her up onto the table, he spread her knees and stepped between them. Pulling the pins out of her hair so that the strawberry tresses fell down her back, he curled his fingers into a section close to her scalp and used it to tug her to the edge of the tabletop. Daisy cried out, but she knew that only ever encouraged him.

Gentle was not in his nature, she thought dimly as her mind gave way to passion. Katherine might think she could handle him, but truthfully, no woman could take what he gave like Daisy could, and she knew it.

It was much later that her thoughts began to haunt her once more.

Edward rose in the middle of the night, donned his robe and left silently. Daisy never asked where he went; her mother had always told her it was best not to ask questions of her husband. Over the years, Daisy had learned that lesson the hard way and had a few scars to remind her should she ever forget.

The words of the letter burned through her mind. “My love”, “come to me, and we shall be together forever”, “your sweet angel”.

Daisy pulled the bedsheets up over her head, hoping that the darkness would drown them out and allow her some sleep. The thing which hurt the most was that she loved him. Had loved him for all her life. Had desired nothing more than that he love her in return.

But that golden goddess had always held his eye. From the second she had floated into their lives, Edward had been captivated by her. And even though Daisy had become his wife, that by no means meant that she had won his affections.

Rising from the bed, Daisy walked over to the window and glanced out into the moonlit night. It would have been easier had they been able to have children, she thought to herself as she had often thought before. No matter how much they had tried, they had not been blessed.

Daisy sighed as she watched the mist drift across the dark sky; now he was drifting away from her again, and no matter how tightly she tried to hold onto him, he would slip through her fingers like the mist.