Short story
Mar. 25th, 2005 05:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hazelbiteJust wanted to post this real quick during Stargate commercial. I'm watching Moebius 2 right now, YAAAY! Ahem, anyway...
My creative writing assignment: "Write a scene in which two strangers encounter each other by chance" I really like how this turned out.
The air conditioning unit was humming surreptitiously somewhere above his head, the looped radio continually playing songs that the young man had heard many times before. The background talking and noises of the other shoppers did nothing to cover the sounds of metal clacking against metal, the plastic hangers looking weak an unsubstantial as the clothes hung limp and lifeless on them.
The garish spring colors were almost as bright as the fluorescent lighting; in fact, the lighting seemed to make the colors worse. The man suspected that the hideous orange and highlighter pink colors would be more welcoming in the dark.
The man shifted slightly in his seat, bored by the setting already. He had only been waiting outside of the fitting room for a few minutes while his wife tried on some outfits. The man sighed and leaned back, crossing my arms and hooking an ankle over a knee, trying to get comfortable. The deep maroon colored chair only looked comfortable, though it was possibly the most rigid chair he had ever had the misfortune to sit on.
Idly scanning his surroundings, the man noticed an older couple slowly making their way through the racks. The woman had a few garments hanging over one arm and the man was trailing along behind. The couple turned at the corner of the folded shirts and made their way toward the fitting room. “I’ll only be a minute,” the woman said, disappearing inside. The older man nodded as he took a seat across from the younger man, sighing in contentment as he sank slowly into the chair.
The young man started bouncing his foot up and down once again glancing around the store, wondering how long it could possibly take his wife to try on five articles of clothing. The old man noticed the fidgeting of the younger man and smiled.
“Always seems to take them forever even when they say it won’t,” the old man commented.
The young man tore his gaze away from a whiny kid accompanying his mother to look at the man across from him. “Yeah,” he replied, “and she didn’t even pick a lot of clothes to bring in anyway.”
The old man chuckled softly. “In the forty-three years I’ve been married, my wife still insists on me accompanying her while she shops.”
“Forty-three years? Aren’t you tired of it by now?” the young man asked.
“You’re newly married, aren’t you?”
The young man nodded. “Not even a year yet.”
“You’ll get used to it,” the old man replied. “Not matter what else may change, women will always take their time in dressing rooms. Just wait until she starts coming out of the room to ask for your opinion,” the old man chuckled again, “had to learn the hard way what was appropriate to say.”
The younger man smiled sympathetically. “Why do you suppose they have to take so long?” he asked.
The old man thought this over. “One time, my wife brought me along while she looked for a dress to wear to her cousin’s wedding. We had already been to two stores and I was starting to get tired and wanted to get the whole thing over with. Even though she took hours trying on what seemed like the entire store, I remember seeing her in the dress she finally picked and it didn’t matter how long it took, she looked beautiful in it,” the old man smiled in reminiscence, a blissful look on his face.
The fitting room bell chimed softly and both men looked up as their wives emerged at the same time, laughing over a shared sentiment. As the women bid each other goodbye, the older man stood up slowly. “It was nice meeting you,” he said, reaching his hand out to the younger man who had gotten to his feet as well.
“Same here,” the younger man replied, grasping the proffered hand.
“Maybe we’ll meet again in front of another fitting room,” the old man quipped, chuckling softly.
“Ready to go, dear?” the older woman asked her husband who nodded. The young man watched them walk toward the front of the building, her arm in his. The young woman kissed her husband’s cheek lightly. “Sorry I took so long, darling,” she said, fiddling with the strap of her purse.
“It wasn’t so bad,” the younger man replied contentedly.
Fin
Hope that one part didn't sound too cheesy...
My creative writing assignment: "Write a scene in which two strangers encounter each other by chance" I really like how this turned out.
The air conditioning unit was humming surreptitiously somewhere above his head, the looped radio continually playing songs that the young man had heard many times before. The background talking and noises of the other shoppers did nothing to cover the sounds of metal clacking against metal, the plastic hangers looking weak an unsubstantial as the clothes hung limp and lifeless on them.
The garish spring colors were almost as bright as the fluorescent lighting; in fact, the lighting seemed to make the colors worse. The man suspected that the hideous orange and highlighter pink colors would be more welcoming in the dark.
The man shifted slightly in his seat, bored by the setting already. He had only been waiting outside of the fitting room for a few minutes while his wife tried on some outfits. The man sighed and leaned back, crossing my arms and hooking an ankle over a knee, trying to get comfortable. The deep maroon colored chair only looked comfortable, though it was possibly the most rigid chair he had ever had the misfortune to sit on.
Idly scanning his surroundings, the man noticed an older couple slowly making their way through the racks. The woman had a few garments hanging over one arm and the man was trailing along behind. The couple turned at the corner of the folded shirts and made their way toward the fitting room. “I’ll only be a minute,” the woman said, disappearing inside. The older man nodded as he took a seat across from the younger man, sighing in contentment as he sank slowly into the chair.
The young man started bouncing his foot up and down once again glancing around the store, wondering how long it could possibly take his wife to try on five articles of clothing. The old man noticed the fidgeting of the younger man and smiled.
“Always seems to take them forever even when they say it won’t,” the old man commented.
The young man tore his gaze away from a whiny kid accompanying his mother to look at the man across from him. “Yeah,” he replied, “and she didn’t even pick a lot of clothes to bring in anyway.”
The old man chuckled softly. “In the forty-three years I’ve been married, my wife still insists on me accompanying her while she shops.”
“Forty-three years? Aren’t you tired of it by now?” the young man asked.
“You’re newly married, aren’t you?”
The young man nodded. “Not even a year yet.”
“You’ll get used to it,” the old man replied. “Not matter what else may change, women will always take their time in dressing rooms. Just wait until she starts coming out of the room to ask for your opinion,” the old man chuckled again, “had to learn the hard way what was appropriate to say.”
The younger man smiled sympathetically. “Why do you suppose they have to take so long?” he asked.
The old man thought this over. “One time, my wife brought me along while she looked for a dress to wear to her cousin’s wedding. We had already been to two stores and I was starting to get tired and wanted to get the whole thing over with. Even though she took hours trying on what seemed like the entire store, I remember seeing her in the dress she finally picked and it didn’t matter how long it took, she looked beautiful in it,” the old man smiled in reminiscence, a blissful look on his face.
The fitting room bell chimed softly and both men looked up as their wives emerged at the same time, laughing over a shared sentiment. As the women bid each other goodbye, the older man stood up slowly. “It was nice meeting you,” he said, reaching his hand out to the younger man who had gotten to his feet as well.
“Same here,” the younger man replied, grasping the proffered hand.
“Maybe we’ll meet again in front of another fitting room,” the old man quipped, chuckling softly.
“Ready to go, dear?” the older woman asked her husband who nodded. The young man watched them walk toward the front of the building, her arm in his. The young woman kissed her husband’s cheek lightly. “Sorry I took so long, darling,” she said, fiddling with the strap of her purse.
“It wasn’t so bad,” the younger man replied contentedly.
Fin
Hope that one part didn't sound too cheesy...
