I grew tired of his feet. So I put on my boots and walked. (Miss Sinatra is not the only woman who can pull off knee-high black patent leather.) I grew tired of his feet-constantly tripping me with fits of silly nostalgia, or kicking me hard in the backside with pangs of long forgotten memories, when what I truly desired was to feel that youth was on the end of my string.
I was certain I had given him the slip too, despite the extra hours clocked by my imagination. Tricking me into believing that his face, his hands, might be lurking anywhere. Still, hours went by. Accumulating into days and weeks. Months and years. Until it seemed safe to assume that he, and his dated pranks, were history. I took off my boots and allowed myself to celebrate.
Then, the unthinkable happened. A crack of dissatisfaction fractured my bliss. Celebration turned sour, the novelty of age-defying eternity wearing thin. I missed the warming luxury of reminiscing, and my heart grew cold. Frosted over with regret for ever putting on those boots. So I gathered the few sticks of hope in my possession, and I kindled a little campfire next to my heart. Laid out a welcome of chocolate and marshmallows and graham crackers. And I wished and prayed desperately for the return of silly nostalgia. The return of long forgotten memories. The return of him.
Time.
A note about this piece-it was an experiment for me in trying a different style and voice-and it explores a “what if” question-what if you could feel young forever, but at the cost of never being able to look back on your life. I’m not sure about how this piece though. Part of me likes it, and part of me wants to take it to the railroad tracks and tie it down.
And as always, thank you for reading!
I’m combing challenges this week:
This week’s prompt over at Write on Edge was to use the song “These Boots Are Made for Walking” by Nancy Sinatra, and the following photo for inspiration. Right away, I noticed the watch…
And over at Trifecta, the prompt directed us to use the third definition of the word crack.
CRACK
1a : a loud roll or peal <a crack of thunder>
b : a sudden sharp noise <the crack of rifle fire>
2: a sharp witty remark : quip
3a : a narrow break : fissure <a crack in the ice>
b : a narrow opening <leave the door open a crack><cracks between floorboards> —used figuratively in phrases like fall through the cracks to describe one that has been improperly or inadvertently ignored or left out <a player who fell through the cracks in the college draft> <children slipping through the cracks of available youth services>
4a : a weakness or flaw caused by decay, age, or deficiency :unsoundness
b : a broken tone of the voice
c : crackpot
5: moment, instant <the crack of dawn> - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/07/trifecta-week-eighty-six.html#sthash.rIMSc6lL.dpuf
Oh Valerie I love reading your words you have the ability to make me stop and ponder what is the true meaning behind the story. I love that. A writer like no other. B
ReplyDeleteThank you so much B!! I worried that this story was a little too "out there" and that it would be hard to understand. Your comment has made me extremely happy! xx
ReplyDeleteVery intriguing! I like that you picked the watch.
ReplyDeleteThanks Lisa! I love watches-and even now that they are almost unnecessary, I still wear one:)
ReplyDeleteI am not grasping if he is dead or metaphorically dead which might be the mystery you intended. I loved reading every word and the significance of the boots...how it changed her to "let down her defenses" (?). Don't have to necessarily grasp it all to enjoy your writing.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your input Maggie! This was a difficult piece to write-and try to convey that the narrator is trying to run away from Time-personified as a man. I'm not sure what to do with this one. Edit some more, perhaps:) I appreciate your thoughts so much!!
ReplyDeleteI like the direction you took with the prompt! I could tell it was definitely a different writing style than I'm used to seeing from you, but I enjoyed it! Sometimes it's good to change things up a bit :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Tammy! You are such a sweetheart for that comment!
ReplyDeleteI applaud that you stepped out of your comfort zone and tried something new. I liked it a lot. And I got it. It was a nice twist. I admire your writing. Your pieces are always well-crafted. This week you made me laugh with the idea that you maybe wanted to tie this piece to a railroad track. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Steph! You don't know what that means to me. I just took a nice deep breath and relaxed a little. Thank you so much indeed!!
ReplyDeleteThis is an interesting "voice" you've found for this piece. I like it.
ReplyDeleteMixed feelings and emotions are well balanced in this piece. Don't 'take it to the railroad tracks and tie it down. '!
ReplyDeleteKudos for stretching. I like the extended metaphor but like Maggie, I wanted a tad more,I wanted something concrete, some image or event. I'm not sure is this is simply my personal preference or if the absence of the concrete does impact the read. Enjoyed.
ReplyDeleteVery good read.
ReplyDeleteIt was actually wonderful to read about a woman who regretted her actions, regretted leaving him. I particularly loved the few sticks of hope and the welcome in the form of s'mores.
ReplyDeleteYour writing always makes me sigh, contented and a little sad.
I thought this was very creative use of the prompts and well, just CREATIVE. It's hard to do in the word count and you did a great job of using the word "crack" to describe being caught between two places -- living for eternity without memories or having memories without eternity. Well done:~)
ReplyDeleteSuch nice killing write Valerie :)
ReplyDeleteI like the personification. I think many of us can fool ourselves into thinking we're fulfilled, but then realize that we've wasted time and it's already moved on.
ReplyDeleteI think you did a great job with this, and the tone is very different than your regular fiction. It can be hard to go outside of your comfort zone, but great job!
ReplyDeleteOn the first reading, I was so caught up in the imagery and the sheer delight that your writing evokes, that I didn't stop to think about the meaning. The second time round, I read for meaning, and I'm with Jo-Anne--I adored it. I love the fancifulness, the lyricism, the whimsy, the whole kit and caboodle.
ReplyDeleteI love love love this! There is so much imagery. Very vivid and emotional.
ReplyDeleteWhat a riot that you and Kir both had knee high boots!
ReplyDeleteI think if you tweak this a bit, you'll get what you want. The opening sentence keeps throwing me. You nail it with face and hands, though. And the end also throws me - why campfires? I know why - going backwards in time - but not how it fits in this text.
You go, girl!
I loved the style and the atmosphere you conjured - excellent piece.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you tried something different Valerie, because this is a great piece of writing! I love the storyteller feel and the metaphor. And the placement of face and hands was just excellent. Well done!
ReplyDeletethis was wonderful and left me with a pang of nostalgia of my own. it's funny that we always want what we can't have.
ReplyDeleteso glad you tried something new and different, you did an excellent job with it.
(LOVED YOUR BOOTS!)