Creating… Miranda

Be creative EVERY DAY • A Challenge

Creating… a short story II

I started a short story based on the flash of an image in my head, imagination is a crazy thing.

Yesterday I added a bit more to it (in the darker text), but I’m going to tell you a little about my process – it’s slow. Word choice is painful, and the WIP you see below will be rearranged and revamped many time before it is whole and finished (plus I still have to write the rest of the story!)

Small talk became more animated as the wine had a chance to loosen tongues and ties. He stood behind me and slightly off to the side, adding a few sporadic comments to the conversation but mostly observing those around him.

My glass was never empty, basking in the persistent attention of multiple conversationalists. The men grew more aggressive despite the quiet man at my side. I reveled in the challenge of juggling them all, and fending off the more zealous of the lot.

And then I felt it, his hand against the small of my back. I understood his action. He was unsure of his place, but that did not make it acceptable.

With a smile, I handed my glass to the current suitor and turned to give him my full attention, his hand falling away with my movement. As the conversation around us ebbed, I said simply one word to him, “Down.”

His eyes widened as his lips parted on a protest, quelled by the simple lift of my brow. I held his gaze, mine hard with the ice they liked to talk about when I wasn’t around, those oh-so-attentive flirts staring rapt behind me.

In that moment he recognized his place and embraced “us” as he sank gracefully to the floor, cheeks blazing and posture perfectly bowed on his knees at my feet. His hands clasped tight behind his back, the skin around his knuckles molted white in perfect harmony with the echoing gasp of polite society rippling throughout the crowd.

The tips of my shoes filled his vision as I silently observed his display of submission, seconds ticking by as nervous laughter and forced coughs revived the party with a buzz of small talk. Ignoring the sting of uneducated suppositions, I turned to survey the remainder of my entourage.


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This entry was posted on October 13, 2012 by in writing and tagged , , .
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