Perfect Happiness

She rubbed a thumb over her chapped knuckle, her manicured hands thawing from the cold.  The woman who sat across the aisle from her smiled warmly and nodded, before returning to her crossword. Ellie stared at her, noting the wisps of hair straggling from her bun, the scuff marks on her boots, the frayed cotton bag tucked beside her full of knitting needles and yarn. Her stomach twisted with an envy she could barely contain. How could this disheveled woman be so content, so at peace, when Ellie had worked so hard to be perfect and was so miserable?

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This week's flash fiction challenge to write about two things that don't go together can be found here at Carrot Ranch Communications. As always, thanks to Charli Mills for hosting, and to the other Rough Writers for playing along.  

My Boyfriend

I've only been dating flash fiction for about eight months. So far, it's working out well. I like it, and I think it likes me, but you can never be sure, right? New relationships are tough. But flash makes me laugh and forces me to get to the point a hell of a lot quicker than I usually do. So, I think I'm going to stay in this relationship for awhile and see what it has to offer. So far, I really like its friends and that goes a long way. This week's 99 word prompt was to write a serious scene interrupted by something absurd. Head on over to Carrot Ranch Communications and see what the other Rough Writers have whipped up. 
***

He hunched over on the cold bench, head sagging and elbows heavy on his thighs. “I love you, I do. I just feel like we’re so disconnected.”

Wrapping her arms around her waist, she shivered, feeling the wind bite at the skin of her cheeks, raw with tears.

A shadow fell over them, blocking the sun, and she looked up to see a man dressed in tight black clothes, his face white, beret askew. Eyes wide, the man pantomimed climbing a ladder and being trapped in a prison.

“Fuck off, mime,” they said in unison and smiled, hands reaching.

Sick Muse*

Yep. Another week, another round of 99 words with Charli Mills. This week's prompt is a story inspired by a muse (yours? mine? ours?). Head over to Carrot Ranch Communications to see the many awesome contributions by the Congress of Rough Writers. 

***

Each morning she vowed that it was the last time. Swearing to herself and whatever deity she decided might be listening that day, she created elaborate rules and rituals to keep thoughts of him away. To keep the memories of his hands and his eyes and his warm, rich voice out of her head, away from her heart. And each night, her chest heavy with defeat, she succumbed. Picking up the pen, she hunched over her notebook, fingers smeared blue with ink and face smeared wet with tears. It was the only damn way she knew to fall asleep.  

*thanks to Metric for the title. Great song. Great album. 

Expectations

Here is my latest entry in the Carrot Ranch Communications flash fiction challenge. It's been awhile since I joined in the fun and I'm glad I found some time today to play with my 99 words. Thanks to Sarah Brentyn for her gentle encouragement to keep writing and to Charli Mills for hosting this great weekly series. Check out more entries from other awesome writers over at the ranch. 

****

She waited. She was always waiting for him in some way. Her fingers trailed through the puddle of spilled coffee. She tried not to look at the door as she shuffled through his words in her mind, words that she repeated back to herself, sometimes for reassurance, sometimes as penance. Pushing her phone away she focused on the street, not wanting to watch the minutes pass, or to acknowledge what became clearer each day. Her father had been right about that. Sometimes the only thing you got to walk away with was your disappointment and sometimes, that was lucky.

Why I Write

This post is part of the series "Why I Write".

Thank you to the wonderful Sarah Brentyn for selecting me to participate in this blog hop. 

Check out Sarah's post here. 

When Sarah asked if she could tag me in her "Why I Write" post, I agreed readily, because I was sure this would be a no-brainer. I have always loved writing. And reading. And so, what could be easier than writing about writing, right? Wrong. Very wrong. 

Turns out, writing about writing is like writing about love. The harder I try to tell you about it, the more it sounds superficial and cloying. No matter how genuine I feel, my words all have this "been there, heard that" quality about them that doesn't get at what I really want to say. So, in the spirit of acceptance (I'm working hard on acceptance these days), I'm going to forgive myself for saying what has been said a million times and a million different ways by much better writers before me. I'm going to take a deep breath and just tell you why I write. 

I write because I love stories. I write because I'm fascinated by relationships and the myriad of ways that people can make each other crazy. I write because nothing interests me more than understanding and exploring human behaviour and digging deep into the dark psyche of need and greed. I write because my heart aches when people fall in love. I write because it turns out that creating stories is just as exciting as reading them. I write because when I'm struggling to figure out what I want, the words make shapes in my brain that help my thoughts become more concrete. I write because I like twisting my daydreams into story lines that I don't recognize and my experiences into pictures that I have never seen. I write because I like the mystery and uncertainty of writing stories that can end in any way I choose. I write because I like creating characters who can make choices I never have. I write because when I write, I am someone that I'm usually not. 

My favourite part of this blog hop is that I now get to tell you about two  other writers who will tell you about why they write, too. Stay tuned! 

August at All in One Basket: Smart, compassionate, vulnerable, wise. If you know anyone struggling with infertility (or parenting after infertility) this is the blog to send them to. Augusta has a knack for making people feel like they're not alone. 

Cate More at The Art of Authenticity: Cate is a smart, funny, meditative blogger whose tweets and posts make me smile. She writes about her experiences without "watering it down or shining it up…just beautiful, messy life."