(no subject)
Jun. 4th, 2009 10:06 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
candyispretty.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
writers_loftHi, I'm new! I hope I don't mess anything up. This is a short story/vignette I wrote a while back. Any and all feedback would be appreciated.
"Only You (And You Alone)" by the Platters is playing on his headphones. It's very apparent that he has not walked his dog in quite a while, judging by the way she tugs so enthusiastically at the leash, pulling it taut and turning his knuckles white. The dog, a small Yorkshire terrier, adorns a bright red ribbon at the top of her head, and a pale pink collar around her neck. Dangling from the collar is a delicate and golden heart-shaped medallion, engraved with her name, "Emily." Outside for the first time in nearly a month, Emily finds the fresh air exhilarating; she darts left and right, sniffing wildflowers and the traces of other animals that have passed through. The moon is only a crescent sliver in the sky, resembling a polished toenail clipping that one might find at the bottom of a beautiful woman's trash bin.
He clears his throat, as if to speak, though no one is around. He silently observes the darkness around him, and stretches his bare toes. The sound of a bicycle is off in the distance, among the streetlights and parked cars, and it is coming toward him. He wonders if he appears strange, with his plaid shorts and big glasses. His legs hairy and bare, his shoes not on his feet but dangling from his fingers.
"Who's walking whom?"
Speaking to himself, he steps once, twice, forward.
"Who's walking whom?"
The leash is tense, as Emily pulls harder. The once distant sound of bicycle wheels sounds much closer. He looks up to see.
Out of the velvet darkness, she emerges. Sporting a baggy shirt emblazoned with a band logo, Nike polyester shorts and Adidas sneakers. Dressed all in faded black, on a red bike. Emily, the dog, bares her teeth. She barely comes up to his knees, a domesticated lap dog who's never liked strangers. She growls and barks, trying to scare away the woman on the bicycle.
"Hi," she says, stopping and shifting her weight onto the ground. Her hair is bright blonde, pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail. He feels suddenly self-conscious, incredibly aware of his sweatiness, and also embarrassed over the rude behavior of his dog. She smiles, though, herself equally sweaty.
"Hello, Mrs. Singer," he mutters. The streetlight above them abruptly dims, then slowly buzzes off. Without the light, all he can make out is the glisten of her smiling teeth, and her golden wedding band.
Tiring of Emily's hostile barking, he tugs the leash and continues to walk in the dark. Mrs. Singer herself begins to move, and after taking a few steps, she mounts her bicycle and rides away.
"Good night," he hears over his shoulder.
END
Also, I've just recently started a blog, where I am publishing a novel-in-progress via short slice-of-life type blog posts. Please do check it out, if you're interested. Thanks very much!
"Only You (And You Alone)" by the Platters is playing on his headphones. It's very apparent that he has not walked his dog in quite a while, judging by the way she tugs so enthusiastically at the leash, pulling it taut and turning his knuckles white. The dog, a small Yorkshire terrier, adorns a bright red ribbon at the top of her head, and a pale pink collar around her neck. Dangling from the collar is a delicate and golden heart-shaped medallion, engraved with her name, "Emily." Outside for the first time in nearly a month, Emily finds the fresh air exhilarating; she darts left and right, sniffing wildflowers and the traces of other animals that have passed through. The moon is only a crescent sliver in the sky, resembling a polished toenail clipping that one might find at the bottom of a beautiful woman's trash bin.
He clears his throat, as if to speak, though no one is around. He silently observes the darkness around him, and stretches his bare toes. The sound of a bicycle is off in the distance, among the streetlights and parked cars, and it is coming toward him. He wonders if he appears strange, with his plaid shorts and big glasses. His legs hairy and bare, his shoes not on his feet but dangling from his fingers.
"Who's walking whom?"
Speaking to himself, he steps once, twice, forward.
"Who's walking whom?"
The leash is tense, as Emily pulls harder. The once distant sound of bicycle wheels sounds much closer. He looks up to see.
Out of the velvet darkness, she emerges. Sporting a baggy shirt emblazoned with a band logo, Nike polyester shorts and Adidas sneakers. Dressed all in faded black, on a red bike. Emily, the dog, bares her teeth. She barely comes up to his knees, a domesticated lap dog who's never liked strangers. She growls and barks, trying to scare away the woman on the bicycle.
"Hi," she says, stopping and shifting her weight onto the ground. Her hair is bright blonde, pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail. He feels suddenly self-conscious, incredibly aware of his sweatiness, and also embarrassed over the rude behavior of his dog. She smiles, though, herself equally sweaty.
"Hello, Mrs. Singer," he mutters. The streetlight above them abruptly dims, then slowly buzzes off. Without the light, all he can make out is the glisten of her smiling teeth, and her golden wedding band.
Tiring of Emily's hostile barking, he tugs the leash and continues to walk in the dark. Mrs. Singer herself begins to move, and after taking a few steps, she mounts her bicycle and rides away.
"Good night," he hears over his shoulder.
END
Also, I've just recently started a blog, where I am publishing a novel-in-progress via short slice-of-life type blog posts. Please do check it out, if you're interested. Thanks very much!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}