25 January 2010

yes

"yes"
they stood on a dark grassy hill overlooking the town. he held her hand, their fingers intertwined. his other hand shoved deep in his coat pocket clutched the small velvet box. he'd carried it for weeks now. he traced the outline of the box, imagined the circular outline of the ring secured inside, pictured it sliding onto her left hand.
the air was crisp and chilly and she shivered slightly.
he clasped her hand tighter, then turned to her and smiled. she laughed, as she always did. his eyes twinkled bluer when he smiled. still holding her left hand, he turned back toward her and took a deep breath.
"now or never," he thought.
he tucked the ring box into the palm of his right hand. he dropped down onto his right knee while holding her hand and the box and looked up at her.
she gasped in recognition of his intent and then smiled again.
"will you. . .," he left the sentence dangle and then lifted the box from his pocket and opened his hand palm side up to her, opening the box with one hand.
". . .marry me? please?" his eyes held hers unsure of her reply.
her green eyes glistened as she held out her hand atop his hand.
"of course, of course, yes."


he smiled pulling himself out of his daydream. he glanced at her, the green grassy hill and grasped her hand, their fingers entwined. a gentle breeze blew over the trees while a distant church bell rang.
"it's now or never," he thought.

for sunday scribblings "yes"

23 January 2010

fait accompli

she signed her name, sealed the envelope and placed the stamp, not realising that mailing this one letter would impact her future so greatly.

red bus

everyday she took the same big red bus. she rarely sat on top. walking up the round stairway while the bus raced down the road frightened her. when the conductor came to take the fare, as he often did, she would pay the full fare. sometimes he missed her and she would thankfully pay one less fare zone, it was enough for a small tea in at the park kiosk. she loved walking in the park along the water's edge during her lunch break. sometimes the sun shone through, but more often it was hidden behind dark clouds.


*work in progress*

04 January 2010

unconscious mutterings

I say ... and you think ... ?

  1. 365 :: days a year, make a year
  2. Tombstone :: pizza, cowboy
  3. Dumb :: luck, blonde
  4. Intrusive :: idiot, world
  5. Fat :: lot of good, meat
  6. Axe :: handle
  7. Planned :: parenthood
  8. Spike :: lee, ground, hand
  9. Bleach :: dye, hair, wash
  10. Shopkeeper :: busy, england

for unconscious mutterings week #362