My J.K. Rowling like writing
“You can’t love me.” He paused a moment and looked at her standing there, his fur-lined cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “No, you won’t let yourself love me. And I can’t do this anymore; it’s not enough for me.”
With one last look, he turned and made his way across the mud-filled courtyard, the cold, autumn rain running down his hair and his back.
She stood there silently, her fingers tightly holding the insides of his cloak closed. The rain ran down her face, mixing with the warm, salty tears. He hadn’t given her a chance to talk, to explain. He’d been silent the entire ride home, and with the storm falling around them, she hadn’t tried to talk. Instead, she’d sat behind him on the horse, her arms wrapped around his waist, her face pressed tightly into his back. And when they’d gotten back to the manor, had ridden into the courtyard, he’d silently helped her from the horse and just stared into her eyes for a moment. Than he’d spoken his heart and left her standing there alone, watching his retreating back.
“Richard” she cried out, shaking herself out of the stupor. Pulling the cloak tighter, she hurried across the yard. “Wait, please wait.”
He paused a moment, his head bowing a moment before he turned and looked at her. She stopped in front of him, her breath catching as she looked up at him. “Please Richard, just wait.”
“Stop Teagan, just stop. I can’t do this anymore. It’s not enough loving you when you won’t let yourself love anyone. I’m sorry but I won’t play this game with you anymore.”
Turning his back to her, he walked into the great hall of the manor and closed the door, his heart sinking to his stomach.
She watched the heavy door close and her breath hitched in her throat as her knees gave out and she sank to the ground.
My Stephen King like writing
His fingers ran over the soft, pink blanket he had pulled from the white box. Looking up he caught her eye and saw a mix of hurt, pain and love cross over her features before being replaced with a small, tight smile.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I made it when I heard it was going to be a girl.”
He looked down again at the varying mix of pinks.
“You didn’t have to.”
“Yes I did.”
“She’s not yours.”
“I know.”
“She’s suppose to be.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you and always will.”
“So will I.”
“I know.”
My Dan Brown like writing
It had come in the mail.
Just a small package no bigger then five inches by five inches and a centimeter thick.
No postal mark or return address to give a clue as to where the package had come from.
Opening it carefully, she lifted an eyebrow as a CD fell from the envelope.
Picking it up, she placed it in the CD player and listened as music began. Song after song played, finally causing tears to come to her eyes as the final track began to play.
Sorry I had to leave. Remember me when you listen. Love you.
and the second piece:
Lightening lit the black sky, striking out to all points visible in the horizon. Thunder rumbled as waves crashed against the shore.
She stumbled forward, her fingertips brushing against the grain.
Rain pounded to the earth, eroding lose ground and stinging the flesh.
She stumbled again, losing her balance on the unsteady surface. Knees landed against sand as she fell forward. Her forehead landed against the wet sand and she stayed there for a moment drawing in much needed air.
‘In and out, in and out’ she repeated in her head while she sucked in as much air as was humanly possible.
As the wind whipped strands of crushed garnet hair against doll like skin, she threw her head back. Rain beat against flesh, plastering strands of hair to her face and washed away signs of the tears that pooled from her chocolate fudge eyes.
Lightning flashed again, illuminating the angst. Her body shook as she chocked back sobs, as muffled sound emitted from her lips; as pain wretched through her soul.
She watched as lightening rippled from here to there, as electricity crackled through the air.
Her lips parted as a scream ripped from her lungs, the angst and pain as plain as the primitive emotions. It caught in the wind and chased away the time as the tears fell freshly opened wounds.
Slowly she lifted her hands, the sand she had been clutching fell.
“Why?” she screamed, the rawness of her feelings present?
The metal glistened with the next flash of lightening and than it was gone, plunged into her breast as though guided by imaginary hands.
Her scream ripped through the air; tears streamed down her face as she pulled the knife from muscle and flesh. It moved slowly, her hands guiding it back until it rested against bloody palms.
Muscles trembling she lifted those open palms and the pain slowly spread.
Her eyes closed as she felt the soft caress of his mouth against hers; as crimson blood trickled between parted lips.
The knife fell to the ground, landing silently in the sand as final breath choked itself from her body.
She fell forward, her face falling to the side. Soulless eyes as cold as ice watched the rain fall. Watched as it slowly washed away the clotting blood down the sandy shore and into the ocean. Watched as her life was carried away by the ragging water – - alone.
My James Fenimore Cooper like writing
You close your eyes because it’s the only thing left to do. It wasn’t suppose to come to this. You were going to live the life in your dreams. Find that perfect job, marry the main of your dreams, and have two point six kids; that was the dream. You were going to grow old together and watch your grand-kids play in the front yard.
But like so much, your dream hasn’t come true. For so long you thought you failed. You watched as everyone else moved on and lived your dream. The job you wanted turned out to be wrong. It broke your heart to realize you weren’t meant to do the one thing you thought you were meant to do. Then you realized the only thing you need to do is live. Be alive and make new dreams every day.
You’re stilling waiting for the main of your dreams. He’s out there. You know it. You even think you’ve met him. He just needs to realize you’re the girl of his dreams. And the only thing that needs to come from life is happiness. Not every second; every moment; but the overall outcome of life is joy. With a smile, you just need to take a deep breath, and close your eyes.
And leap.
Wednesday I am planning on visiting the State Archives. They’re only open Wednesday, Thursday and Friday’s plus Saturdays for Microfilm research. My notebook should be back by then so I can get the information I need from my family tree to know what I want to look for. As long as it’s back this this weekend, I can put together what I want to find since I don’t want to take my computer there. Let’s see, I also have to go through my books and decide what I want to keep and what I don’t want to keep plus try and get the rest of my stuff unpacked. Other then that – it’s time to relax and forget about work.
