Today’s writing prompt and my response.
Day four for this week. Use the prompt however you like, one at a time, or pen a short story over as many as you like.
A note on this one – I came across the image when I was planning the prompts and decided it would be my own inspiration for these three words, although how, I wasn’t sure at the time. A sweet, old-fashioned love story sounded about right.
Silky Interrupting Surprise: use these three words
‘Do you remember how we met?’ He leaned across the restaurant white-clothed table. The candle’s flame reflected in his specs as he clasped her hand in his both of his.
She stroked their ridged veins with her thumb, smiled. ‘We met when we were five years old. Of course I don’t remember.’ She batted her eyelids, coy as a teenager. ‘You mean, do I remember that day?’
He grinned, and when his new teeth gleamed, she caught a hint of the youth who had stolen up on her that summer day, interrupting her solitary, pensive stroll along the old railway line.
She was upset. Friends picnicking in the woods, and he – along with all the boys – had eyes only for the new girl. The pointy-chested, red-lipsticked girl with silky blonde hair, who charmed them with her wide blue eyes and pretty giggles.
The other girls huddled at the edge of the rugs, lounging in the shade, whispering their secrets. But she was in no mood for secrets, other than the one she had carried for months now. How she loved this boy with his slim hips, straw hair and amber eyes. And how he didn’t know she existed.
‘That day,’ she said, her welling eyes blurring the already softened edges of his loved face. ‘The day you sought me out. With your bunch of wildflowers, and your apologetic half-smile.’
He squeezed her hand between his tremulous fingers. ‘I don’t know which was more of a surprise. The knowing, when I watched you walk away from us, that I didn’t want you to leave, ever.’
‘Or,’ she said, laughing, enjoying this millionth retelling of the tale, ‘the look on my face when I turned to you–’
‘–with that careful smile, the one that said, welcome, but be careful – this heart is not for breaking.’
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