Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Writer's Digest Prompt 1

It was only a little past noon but I was beginning to wonder if he was coming or not. Would my phone ring soon with some reason he wasn't coming? I have to be the only girl sitting in this forsaken pub. Why a pub?  I look down at my watch. 12:07 PM, maybe I should leave.

Right as I looked up he walks through a little door in the corner dressed in a tuxedo nonetheless. Was I supposed to dress up? I look now at my blouse, skirt, and converses. Too late now. He was still searching the bar. I guess I could have set at the bar, but this opposite corner against the wall seemed more appropriate. I could see everyone else and they couldn't see me. He should know this is where I preferred to sit. He turns his head quickly as if reading my mind. He smirks, he must be thinking he should have known too.

I smile at him. I'm not sure why. He smiles back though.  "Hey!" I greet him as though we talk every day. "Hey!" He greets back in the same manner. After this I sit silently. He does the same. He breaks the silence with a more depressed, "hey."  I chimed at him, "hey, I seem to be underdressed. You didn't tell me to dress for a wedding."  He frowned. I was lost. Then it hit me.

"Why are you dressed for a wedding?"  I asked.  He sighs,"i'm supposed to be getting married today, but…" he trails off.  "But… Oh my, I am so sorry, why did you agree to meet me?" Here I was again, messing his life. "Because you wanted to see me."  He looked at me hopeful. He knew I wouldn't object though. I would rush him back. We both sat there in silence.

"What do you want from me?" I snapped.   "Nothing," he lied. I laughed sarcastically. "You should know. Did I ever object to anyone else?" He wasn't the first guy who wanted to hear those words, just the first one to meet me on the day of his wedding. "No," he replied.  "So," I started, "shut up the second," he interrupted. I was too startled to keep going.

"Anyone else," continued, "went through with it, I'm not."  I stared at him for a minute. More hurt for him than anything else. "You have to," I whispered, "I'm just ruining your life again." He looked at me hard, keeping my attention, "you are my life," he corrected. I said nothing. I could feel the tears building up in my eyes.

He sighed as he got out of his booth and scooted into mine. The tears slid down as he put his arms around me. Why he always held me when I cried, I had no idea.  I never gave him one reason to. He sat silently and let me finish crying.  I looked up at him. "You are so beautiful," he said. His cell phone rang. He threw it in my water and we listened until it faded away. We would both eventually have to get up. Just not now.

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