Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Ten Minute Tuesday 4/10/13

It's ten minute Tuesday! Take a minute to read the following prompt, and then put your pen to paper, your fingers to keyboard, your hamster to wheel, and write, for ten minutes, the first thing that comes to mind. If you have a blog, you can write it there and link to it, otherwise, feel free to just put your story in the comments. Ready. . .here we go!

"But now it was here, right in front of me..."

Here are some of the responses from Facebook:

From Jacqui Parker:
Now here it is, right in front of me. I just put my youngest child on a bus bound for boot camp. I always thought I’d be doing this with the love of my life by my side. We’d wipe the tears from our eyes, drive home and dance naked in our empty house. Instead, I’m driving alone wishing the tears would come, but I’ve cried too many over the past nine months. Just nine months ago we found out he had cancer and only four months ago he was gone. Very few people like change, but I’ve always been one of the worst. Now, there’ve been too many changes in too little time. Keeping it together for the boys was the only thing I had. As I drive I realize that that too is gone. I know that he would want me to move on. I’m much too young to quit life now. I glance in the rearview mirror and take a moment to reflect on what’s passed and choose in my heart to look ahead and move forward. When I get home, I resolve to make a few phone calls. It’s finally time to focus on me. I’ve always known where I hoped to end up. Now there’s nothing stopping me.

From Suzann Smith:
I'd always read these books. Detective sits in car at midnight sipping coffee... Watching, waiting. Always imagined. But never dreamed.
Truthfully, for as much as I've always loved suspenseful stories, I've always known that deep down inside, I'm a wimp.
But it wasn't like I have much choice. Tonight I sit in a car, drinking coffee. Watching. Waiting. But what was I supposed to do? The police wouldn't listen. No one seemed inclined to believe. So... I sit.
Unconsciously I feel for my trusty revolver in its usual place on my thigh. I reach for the larger 9mm Ruger I had grabbed just before leaving, it was still secure in my waist band.
Still I watch. It is a dark night, the building dimly lit by a bare bulb hanging by its wire, swinging in the night's breeze.
I smell the fish.
The harbor, the fish market, the fisherman's wharf. I'd chosen none of it. I'd wanted to move to a farm in Kansas. But he'd chosen this place. Now I knew why.
As I watch, I play through mind my options. I still am not sure what I'm going to do. But I must know. For sure. I must see him. Here.
I've feared this moment. But here it is, right I front of me. I'm the wife of a mobster.

No comments:

Post a Comment