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writers_loft2009-07-18 12:58 am
oyayi.livejournal.com) wrote in writers_loft2009-07-18 12:58 am
Alexandra
Title: Alexandra
Genre: Fiction+Romance (not mushy I promise)
Length: One-shot
A/N:Feedback would be very nice and if ever you need clarifications I would be more than happy to enlighten you. Thanks.
Today I woke up and felt that my heart has run out of you. I rolled back and forth restlessly in cold sheets and made a mental note to check the store soon and buy some. You are a memory and for that I'm not so sure how much it will cost me. Last year I bought a bag of words which lasted for 3 months or so and it cost me enough to have me starving for days. But I remember them well and that keeps me alive. For now, your memory is a luxury. I must cross you out from the list but I don't want to. I still haven't found you. Yesterday I washed some dreams and a couple of tear-stained sheets and worry that I might lose you. I had to hang them closely to where the breeze might pass and slip in a few of your words. That day the clothespin shook way too much. I don't know if that's good. Slowly I got up, wrote down your name and stuffed it in a pocket with a couple of dollars. I hear my stomach grumbling away loudly but my head turns to worrying more of purchases.
It was raining that day and I remembered you particularly. You reminded me of something or someone I long and ache for in every possible way but I can't remember. I did remember you but not when, or how or why. Maybe once when I was young and restless, we both loved and got scars or maybe I have never known you all along, never by touch or voice, smell or taste, but I felt something in you that's beautiful to keep. How can I forget such things? With a couple more steps I reached the store so I put those thoughts to rest. Inside an old guy was rummaging with boxes sprawled on the floor, taking out what looked like red hair bundled in the middle by a ribbon, some rainmakers and a doll. The bell rang when I came in and he turned to face me slowly as he settled the things he was holding into a shelf. He shot me a piercing look, the deep lines forming in his face. For some strange reason he smiled and then finally asked me I what wanted. I brought out a couple of dollars and handed it over to him, his eyes quickly turning cold and distant. "It's not enough.", he told me so I nodded and told him that I'll come back later although I honestly did not know what to give. I stood there for a while thinking but he spoke again. " I'm not telling you to hope. That thing's looking pretty bad already. I've seen them before. They won't last." I gave him another hesitant nod and left. Outside it was still raining but I fail to I remember anything from it.
The next day I went to buy myself some food, a slice of Gouda and then some bread. Then I met a strange old man.
"She loved you.", he shouted from across the street but I did not understand why he would tell me such things.
"She loved you.", he shouted again and again.
Genre: Fiction+Romance (not mushy I promise)
Length: One-shot
A/N:Feedback would be very nice and if ever you need clarifications I would be more than happy to enlighten you. Thanks.
Today I woke up and felt that my heart has run out of you. I rolled back and forth restlessly in cold sheets and made a mental note to check the store soon and buy some. You are a memory and for that I'm not so sure how much it will cost me. Last year I bought a bag of words which lasted for 3 months or so and it cost me enough to have me starving for days. But I remember them well and that keeps me alive. For now, your memory is a luxury. I must cross you out from the list but I don't want to. I still haven't found you. Yesterday I washed some dreams and a couple of tear-stained sheets and worry that I might lose you. I had to hang them closely to where the breeze might pass and slip in a few of your words. That day the clothespin shook way too much. I don't know if that's good. Slowly I got up, wrote down your name and stuffed it in a pocket with a couple of dollars. I hear my stomach grumbling away loudly but my head turns to worrying more of purchases.
It was raining that day and I remembered you particularly. You reminded me of something or someone I long and ache for in every possible way but I can't remember. I did remember you but not when, or how or why. Maybe once when I was young and restless, we both loved and got scars or maybe I have never known you all along, never by touch or voice, smell or taste, but I felt something in you that's beautiful to keep. How can I forget such things? With a couple more steps I reached the store so I put those thoughts to rest. Inside an old guy was rummaging with boxes sprawled on the floor, taking out what looked like red hair bundled in the middle by a ribbon, some rainmakers and a doll. The bell rang when I came in and he turned to face me slowly as he settled the things he was holding into a shelf. He shot me a piercing look, the deep lines forming in his face. For some strange reason he smiled and then finally asked me I what wanted. I brought out a couple of dollars and handed it over to him, his eyes quickly turning cold and distant. "It's not enough.", he told me so I nodded and told him that I'll come back later although I honestly did not know what to give. I stood there for a while thinking but he spoke again. " I'm not telling you to hope. That thing's looking pretty bad already. I've seen them before. They won't last." I gave him another hesitant nod and left. Outside it was still raining but I fail to I remember anything from it.
The next day I went to buy myself some food, a slice of Gouda and then some bread. Then I met a strange old man.
"She loved you.", he shouted from across the street but I did not understand why he would tell me such things.
"She loved you.", he shouted again and again.