Ten Words. Ten Tiny Words
I was trying to find a post on my old Xanga blog for a fanfic I want to work on and stumbled across this. I really liked it and thought I would share it here...
Ten words, Ten Tiny Words: A Writing Exercise
Ten words. Ten tiny words. She considers the page before her and reflects on the words written there. She need only add two more to make it complete and she will... She must. The time to change what must be has passed, if it ever existed at all. So she will do it. She will sign her name and resign. For a brief moment, she wonders if it will bring him pain, if he will have some sense of loss, but she angerly puts those thoughts away. Now is a time for her and she will give herself this gift of freedom. Twelve simple words on a crisp sheet of white will bring her peace.
... or so she hopes.
Ten words. Ten tiny words, but originally there were twelve. Somewhere in the last twenty years she has lost two words and so much more. The ring of gold taunts her as it sits on his note. Twenty years and all he could spare were two sentences and his name. His full name, as if they had not shared a name, a life, a bed for the last two decades, as if she would confuse him for another. She sits, staring at the note, at the ring, willing them to give her understanding, knowing they cannot.
Ten words. Ten tiny words and suddenly his whole world has changed. Her smile is the brightest in the world at that moment and he knows he has made the right decision. He does his best to keep his composure, but looses it entirely as she joins him on the floor where he is kneeling. He carefully places the ring on her finger, trying to make sure everything is perfect even as joyful tears run down his cheeks. In his head, he knows others have felt this absolute happiness before, but in his heart he believes they have never felt anything quite like this.
Ten words. Ten tiny words and the lid is closed. He walks to the front of the church, doing his final duty to his bride. As their sons help him, he remembers all the other times he carried her. Over a puddle, that first time, as she protested his every move until he stopped her words with a kiss. At the restaurant, swinging her around and around as he shouted to everyone within hearing that she had said yes. Over the threshold and to their marital bed. And then later, from that same bed to the bathroom, when she had been too weak to stand, to the hospital when she had been to weak to eat. He has carried her too many times to count and certainly too many times to remember throughout their long, blessed life together. As the coffin is lowered into the ground, he knows this last carry will be the one he will never forget.
Ten words, Ten Tiny Words: A Writing Exercise
Ten words. Ten tiny words. She considers the page before her and reflects on the words written there. She need only add two more to make it complete and she will... She must. The time to change what must be has passed, if it ever existed at all. So she will do it. She will sign her name and resign. For a brief moment, she wonders if it will bring him pain, if he will have some sense of loss, but she angerly puts those thoughts away. Now is a time for her and she will give herself this gift of freedom. Twelve simple words on a crisp sheet of white will bring her peace.
... or so she hopes.
Ten words. Ten tiny words, but originally there were twelve. Somewhere in the last twenty years she has lost two words and so much more. The ring of gold taunts her as it sits on his note. Twenty years and all he could spare were two sentences and his name. His full name, as if they had not shared a name, a life, a bed for the last two decades, as if she would confuse him for another. She sits, staring at the note, at the ring, willing them to give her understanding, knowing they cannot.
Ten words. Ten tiny words and suddenly his whole world has changed. Her smile is the brightest in the world at that moment and he knows he has made the right decision. He does his best to keep his composure, but looses it entirely as she joins him on the floor where he is kneeling. He carefully places the ring on her finger, trying to make sure everything is perfect even as joyful tears run down his cheeks. In his head, he knows others have felt this absolute happiness before, but in his heart he believes they have never felt anything quite like this.
Ten words. Ten tiny words and the lid is closed. He walks to the front of the church, doing his final duty to his bride. As their sons help him, he remembers all the other times he carried her. Over a puddle, that first time, as she protested his every move until he stopped her words with a kiss. At the restaurant, swinging her around and around as he shouted to everyone within hearing that she had said yes. Over the threshold and to their marital bed. And then later, from that same bed to the bathroom, when she had been too weak to stand, to the hospital when she had been to weak to eat. He has carried her too many times to count and certainly too many times to remember throughout their long, blessed life together. As the coffin is lowered into the ground, he knows this last carry will be the one he will never forget.
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