Wednesday, 17 April 2013

A Short and Sweet Story

Just stumbled across more of my creative writing for uni that I thought I would share. I think it is pretty evident that I live with my head in the clouds and certainly do read too much chick lit and watch too many chick flicks! I think I wrote this back in 2010! It’s pure cheese!

Sweet Nothings

Dear James

I don’t know where to start. I’m writing this letter because it’s easier to put down in words how I really feel. I know you say I can always tell you anything, but this way you’ll have to listen to me from beginning to end without interrupting me, sweet talking me and moving on to another subject without actually helping me with what my original problem was. I know you don’t mean to do that and you think everything is ok after we’ve talked, but most of the time it’s not.

I love you. Maybe I should have started the letter with that, but honestly I do love you and the past three and a half years have been good. Now, you’re probably thinking if they have been good, why on earth have I run away.

Please don’t be angry with me. I was just in our bedroom sorting out clothes for the wash. I saw you had a pile of worn clothes you hadn’t put away, so I went to check they were all clean. Most of the clothes stunk of smoke. I expect from Rich’s house, when will that man pack the cigarettes in! Anyway, I went to empty the pockets of your navy blue jacket, the one with the massive hole in the lining from when the dog decided to drag it off the radiator and, well, I found something.

It’s beautiful! I had no idea you were thinking of...! We’ve never really discussed it. I don’t know when you were thinking of, you know...but...I don’t think I can. Sorry. I love you, I do, I just never thought I would be in a relationship like ours.

We are good together, rarely argue, have a laugh, but you’re more like my best friend and not prince in shining armour. Do you understand? We enjoy each other’s company, yet there is no spark anymore. I really am so sorry.

I feel like I’m being too vague and I bet you are confused and hurt right now. I’ll try and explain properly. When I was a teenager, I always thought I would marry someone who was tall, dark and handsome. Yes, I know that’s a typical teenage view and you scored one out of three at least (handsome, with your powder blue eyes and that smile that gives you dimples to die for!). I suppose there is nothing wrong with being five foot eight, although I do feel silly when I wear heels, and I think the whole dark thing is neither here nor there. I mean you can’t help turning into a lobster after five minutes in the sun!

But seriously, I don’t think you show me much affection these days. I look at other couples and sigh, as he goes to wipe something off of her face, they walk down the street hand in hand or you hear him saying how beautiful she is. Maybe I watch too many chick flicks and read too much romantic fiction, but there are just so many little things I wish we shared.

It would be great to get a sweet text now and then, just to say “I love you”, instead of you’ll be home late from work, or to cuddle up at night instead of you complaining how hot you are and rolling over; to go for a stroll on the beach without needing to be anywhere other than with each other; to be surprised once in a while with flowers; to take the dog for a walk together; to have a song; to share a slow dance. Just to be that couple that other people look at and wish they were like us.

Am I being silly? I want you, but I want all of the little things too. Oh I’m so confused .

I’ll be at my Mum’s.

All my love

Tess x

The reader of the letter folded it in four, let out a deep sigh, ran their fingers through their thick blonde hair and flopped back in the sofa. It was fast approaching night fall and the wind whistled, howled and whined down the chimney on what was an unusually cold day in July. James Mansell was twenty-six years old and ran his own web designing business with his best friend from school, Richard Wise. Since it was just the two of them, he often worked late to meet deadlines and keep his clients happy. Today was no exception, and to avoid having to go in over the weekend, he hadn’t left the office until 8pm. When he got home he was looking forward to ordering a takeaway and settling down for an early night after a hectic week. So, when he arrived home to a blacked out house, Tess’s car not in the drive, the dog barking madly and an envelope stuck to the fridge door with his name on it, he was bewildered.
He read the letter over and over again, trying to comprehend every single word before giving up and admitting defeat. He never realised that they had relationship problems. Tess said [for] herself they were like best friends! And as for the ring, how on earth was he going to explain that it wasn’t for her. He sniggered to himself that it was a good job she wasn’t ready for marriage, as he wasn’t either, but his smile soon turned sour when he realised he might have lost her forever.
James’s stomach growled fiercely, which caused him to glance at the clock on the wall. It was just after midnight [already]. He had been lost in thought for hours, trying to figure out how to resolve this mess. He concluded that it was far too late to call Tess now, so grabbed a microwave meal before heading to bed. He couldn’t sleep well, tossing and turning and wishing that the empty space next to him was filled by his gorgeous, curvy, soft-skinned “Tessy Bear”.
The sunlight peeped through a gap in the curtain about 6am and James decided to get up and get dressed. He pulled out a crisp white shirt, a blue tie that matched his eyes, a blazer and smart trousers. He scarcely dressed this smartly even for work. After waking up it took him a while to shake off his tiredness, but once he had showered he picked up speed and raced to get out of the door.
The silver BMW of James Mansell screeched down the road heading at rapid speed towards the town. An hour or so later it was seen surging in the direction of Honeycone Beach. At approximately 8.30am Tess Thompson’s mobile began to ring.
‘Hello?’ she said in a sleepy tone.
‘Tessy, listen, I don’t want to get married either!’ came the voice of James in a rushed, happy tone.
‘James? But...’ said Tess.
‘Ssssh, I was looking after the ring for Rich, he didn’t want me to tell anyone he was going to propose to Wendy. Forget about that anyway, meet me by the flags at Honeycone Beach in 10 minutes.’
‘James...what’s going on? I don’t want that stroll now!’ Tess said in more of an alert, but confused tone.
‘Never mind that, just meet me.’ James hung up the phone laughing.

Tess was left holding the phone to her ear, feeling baffled and unsure . He had obviously received her letter, but why did she need to go to the beach so urgently and why did he sound so cheerful. She paused and then thought about the ring. She smacked her hand to her mouth in shock, as it registered that she wasn’t going to be proposed to. Feeling slightly angry, but still bewildered, she made her way to Honey Cone Beach to meet James.

James waited nervously, checking his watch constantly and shuffled from one foot to the other. The wind was still strong and the waves crashed against the sand violently. The flags of every colour of the rainbow also rattled vigorously above his head. Twenty-five minutes had passed since the phone call and there was still no sign of Tess. James rubbed his eyes wearily and thought he would give it five more minutes .
Just when James was about to call it a day, a distant figure emerged at the top of the steps leading down to the beach. The figure paused, scanning the scene, before proceeding to jog down the steps. James watched the figure growing bigger, clearer and more beautiful with every stride. A broad smile filled his face, as he began striding towards his lover. He swept her off of her feet and spun her around, as she squealed with delight and the wind made her long brown hair wisp all over her face. James delicately placed Tess on a blanket, presented her with a single red rose, popped open a bottle of champagne and whispered in her ear.
‘I love you, Miss Thompson’. Tess giggled like a child and before she could respond, James leaned forward and gave her a kiss that took the words right out of her mouth.

Word Count: 1517


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