Monday, November 16, 2015

Magic Hat 11.16.15


Recently I've been in a creative slump. Besides the prose piece I posted here a couple of weeks ago and the song I sang for the open mic, I haven't done anything. So I decided to use Magic Hat to make myself make something. Strapped for ideas I looked through some of my short meditations of death as a lover and stumbled across a pair of sentences I wrote and never used:

"The roaring of the tracks couldn't compare to the roaring in her head as she watched her lover run past. As the train pulled up to the station she wished she had jumped into his loving arms. A missed opportunity."

I thought I'd use them to sandwich a short narrative and this was the result.

- Christian


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The roaring of the tracks couldn't compare to the roaring in her head as she watched her lover run past.

Her thoughts ran through that night, the night he replaced her teddy bears, the ones she cherished so deeply. Everything started to move so fast from that moment, she hadn’t noticed her fuzzy companions slide off her bed and scatter onto the paper-littered floor, paper scrawled in blotchy pen marks of chemistry formulas because her mother wanted her to become a doctor. The bears, faced with problems far beyond their scope of knowledge, laid there motionless.

As he entered her, she moaned. Not out of pleasure, but out of pain. It was too much for her.

She backed away and he asked, “are you okay?” with the same tones he rang when she came to him about where they’d be in five years, or rather where she’d be in five years.

“I’m fine. It’s just. I don’t,” know.

“I get it,” he said as he fell beside her and held her tight.

She woke up the next morning with his arms still around her. She couldn’t move so she laid there motionless, staring at her fuzzy companions as they stared back at her, out of reach. She watched as they drowned.

When he woke up, they got dressed and he walked her to the train. She had school and he only had to head home. Thoughts of her teddy bears, the ones she slept with for the past two decades, roared through her mind. She hadn’t had the time to pick them up off the floor.

As the train pulled up to the station she wished she had jumped into his loving arms.

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