MY FRIENDS
My friends are always having adventures, romances, intrigues. Lucky for me, they don’t dislike me writing about them. Actually, I don’t think they care, although I’m not completely sure. They don’t talk to me much. Perhaps it’s my style?
In the time between adventures I sit behind my locked doors, waiting with pen in hand. Sometimes I put it down and take up the latest rejection letter.
Rejection shouldn’t be a problem for me. I can always write more. The friends who live in my head are always having adventures. Sometimes they let me join in.
sweet like my coffee..
I really like it. Short as it is it drew me in and I felt I started to know this character just a little.
I like it :-) I also wrote a fast Fiction piece thinking that I would enter it into the competition only to discover that it was for last year! Oh well.
"A scent of Inspiration" – on the theme of lonely writers
The coffee house: a hub of activity filled with the aromatic fusion of coffee and caramel. Catching the eye of the barista I give a small nod and walk casually over to my overstuffed armchair in the back corner. The regulars nod and smile in my direction; they are my friends even though I don’t know their names.
‘Here you go Kate, the usual. Can I get you anything else?’
‘No thank you James’ I reply, smiling up at him.
Wrapping my hands around the oversized mug I close my eyes, breathing in the sweetness of the latte as I take a small but satisfying sip.
Settling in, I catch up with familiar friends. Today the business man, who I call Tom, is taking an extra-long lunch break; he sits furtively in the back, eager eye on the door. Smiling, he stands as a brunette enters and walks in his direction. They greet each other, eyes and hands lingering expectantly.
At the table on the opposite side of the room, the Wednesday morning mothers group is in full swing with conversations full of gossip and scandal. Sophie is sat quietly drinking and nodding, she is distracted as she spots the brunette. Carefully averting her eyes to offer the couple the anonymity that they desire, her thoughts drift to those of loyalty and friendship.
I close my notebook, wedge my pen between the spine and the spirals that hold the pages together, and place it carefully in my handbag. I cannot wait for tomorrow, to catch up with my friends and to discover their fate.
‘See you tomorrow then Kate?’ James asks as he hands me my change.
I smile and nod ‘Tomorrow’ I confirm as I head for the door and the long walk back to my lonely apartment.
It's my first attempt at this kind of fiction - more difficult than I thought it would be.