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Monday, March 23, 2009

Quiet Whispers

photo by Highlander

Suggested Prompt -

Why are they meeting tonight?
Use that creatively to inspire your writing today.



_____________________

They met on the internet months ago. They had already talked about everything under the sun, but tonight they will finally meet in person.

Her friends advised against a nice dinner and told her that they should only meet for coffee. But she knew him, she knew all about him. She felt safe with their plans, and she wanted this dinner more than anything.

They sat in the fine establishment ... beautiful artwork on the walls, amazing ambience, divine food ... but all they noticed was each other. Their conversation flowed freely, and he even reached across the table and held her hand. Her heart melted. The evening was better than she could have ever imagined.

The faint music in the background inspired him. He stood and took her hand. Standing there by their table, they danced their first dance. People all around stopped and admired them, these two people lost in each other, unaware of their surroundings.

Unaware that his wife was walking across the room towards them.

~
Faith

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9 comments:

Chercheur de bonheur said...

After so long could they still not know each other? Of course there was love and there had been mutual attempts to understand, perhaps not always with the same effort or at the same time. But at least they had tried.

Tonight, looking into her eyes, the image of the mountain lake where they had canoed came to mind. At one point the water had been so clear that they could see to the very depths. Then conditions changed and, although the water stayed calm, all that was reflected was the watcher’s own image.

So it was with them. Few waves or obvious dangers, just a slow drift. But he no longer saw her deepness, profundity and wisdom, only his own likeness. He caught sight of who he was as she saw him. He did not like the reflection.

Tonight this must change.

Dan Felstead said...

Did you take care of it?

It's done.

What about the body?

Miles away in t...

I don't want to know...the less I know...the better.

Remember, after tonight, no more contact. I'll wire the money and your plane ticket.

Finally, we can be together. I'll see you in Switzerland. I hear it is beautiful in the Spring.


Dan

Sarah said...

I hear a murmur. A gentle humming of the ocean as it rocks me across the Atlantic.

I have lost track of time. And though I am pretty sure the ocean I lie in now is the one I fell into days ago, I have no way of knowing for sure. This bothers me.

My legs are itchy, scratching and numb from the digging of my nails. My supplies are almost depleted and I have no one left to feed the hunger.

I hear a murmur. The soft gurgled plea of an empty hole crying to be full.

There is nothing left now. I have slept so long I am crisp and peeling. The itch is now raw pain, I cannot scratch any more.

I hear a murmur. Not quite whispers, not quite screams. They are coming to eat me now. The screeching, the flash of wings and beak.

I hear a murmur. My own lips calling to the waves for help. And then I hear nothing at all.


***I had to play on the quiet/quite typo, SORRY! <3***

Dani said...

We meet in a darkened room by candlelight and I wonder what it is that is so important as to bring me here. Is it the night? Will he purpose? He seems so nervous, edgy. What if I'm wrong...is there something wrong? Wrong doesn't fit this setting very well. If there was bad news to tell, why bring me somewhere so lovely? I guess the dark room could be thought of as gloomy. The idea sends a chill down my spine.

My thoughts trail away as I take my seat and the waiter brings us wine. Wine? What's the occasion? I rake him with my eyes hopefully. He's still looking down, avoiding eye contact. He shifts in his seat, elbows resting on the table.
I look down too. Not out of nerves, but it seems more comfortable. I decide to clear my mind, and so I focus on the cracks of the wooden table. I trace them with my fingernail, watching the light from the flickering candle dance in its harmonious way. For a moment I feel at ease. Comfortable.

"Judy."

I look up to see his tired, bloodshot eyes now fixed on me. They seem to shoot through me and my body goes into some state of shock. I'm frozen in position. Waiting.

"I'm....I'm married."

septembermom said...

Finally, the anniversary date...

Candlelight sees no wrinkles.
Soft piano evokes such memory.
Weary eyes smile away worry.
World shuts down around them.
Buried love can resurface anew.

Laura Jayne said...

***I had to play on the quiet/quite typo, SORRY! <3*** - Sarah

I have no idea what you are speaking about Sarah. (Okay... I admit it, I fixed it. LOL)

Sarah said...

It's okay, I still love you LJ! :)

Is it entirely obvious I had watched Cast Away the night before?

I.N.Kwell said...

At the begining of the night Ryan felt like a spy, slipping out the back door to follow her, his own mother. But there was no guilt. If his idea was wrong, then no harm done. If he was right, then all hell was about to break loose. But he wasn't about to jump to conclussions. In the bar he flashed his fake ID at the door. He used it more than his real one and had such a confindance about him when he had it, they didn't even look at the numbers. After half an hour of watching his mom checking her watch he told the waitress to just bring him a whole bottle of whisky -he'd help himself. Then Jack showed up. It was what Ryan was hoping wouldn't happen. Still he waited, sipping his drink. They never noticed him, just a few tables away in a shadowy coner.
Then Ryan sees Jack reach across the table to touch his mother's hand. That's it, he thinks, and stumbles over, already drunk at 9 o'clock. "Un-un-believeable!" He says to them, "Mom- he's my age! This gross its just dishgushting." His mother is too stunned to speak so Ryan launches in on his friend since grade school, "Jack! My mother! Of all the women in the whole world, -my- mom, you perv?" Jack just stares, and after a moment chuckles. "Dude, give me that bottle. You don't know how wrong you are." He promises. Ryan frowns. He hates to be wrong, but to be wrong about this..."Sweetheart," his mother says gently, "Jack and I are meeting to dicus your drinking problem."

Faith said...

They met on the internet months ago. They had already talked about everything under the sun, but tonight they will finally meet in person.

Her friends advised against a nice dinner and told her that they should only meet for coffee. But she knew him, she knew all about him. She felt safe with their plans, and she wanted this dinner more than anything.

They sat in the fine establishment ... beautiful artwork on the walls, amazing ambience, divine food ... but all they noticed was each other. Their conversation flowed freely, and he even reached across the table and held her hand. Her heart melted. The evening was better than she could have ever imagined.

The faint music in the background inspired him. He stood and took her hand. Standing there by their table, they danced their first dance. People all around stopped and admired them, these two people lost in each other, unaware of their surroundings.

Unaware that his wife was walking across the room towards them.