Eat, Drink & Be Merry
Hello readers and writers! I've been fighting a bad case of writer's block for the last month or so, but it seems like I have finally found the motivation once again. A few things have changed for me recently. First, I finished my bachelors degree! Second, my old laptop --with years of stories and creative gibberish -- stopped working. I am really trying not to think about the documents I presently do not have access to, because even if they are not worthy of an audience they are a reflection of my development as a writer...like I said trying not to think about it (plus they might be recoverable if I can get it to the repair shop).
Anyway, the bit I am including in this post is short. My inspiration came from a blend of two writing prompts I had pinned to my Pinterest board "Unwritten." Now that I am on the other side of a blocked month, I recommend reading prompts and just reading in general to find your old writing inspiration, or maybe you find new inspiration. But don't worry if even that doesn't help. It seems like those who are meant to write will never lose the desire to write forever, even if they want to escape it.
“No! No.
It’s too late now. You’ve already told her you’ll meet her!” Gary blocks the
door. Tristan pins him with his stare for a moment, before producing something
like a growl.
“Did
you…did you just growl at me?” Gary’s mouth is agape, but only for too short a time.
“You know what? You’re right. Just call it off. There’s clearly a reason you’ve
been single for an eternity.” He moves aside so that Tristan might pass.
Tristan stares at him. This time, his expression is blank. If it weren’t for
the slight twitch in his jaw muscles that show just beneath his dark strands,
one would have no hint that Gary’s words had affected Tristan at all. That is
until one saw Tristan’s gaze drop to the floor. Gary rubs the back of his neck
and looks to the ceiling.
“Look,
Mate…I’m sorry.”
“It’s
fine,” Tristan is quick to say.
“It’s
just…what I mean is…” Gary shoves his hands into his pockets and bends over so
as to catch Tristan’s gaze.
“If I
didn’t think she was the one, I wouldn’t be pushing you to meet her.” Tristan
looks up.
“Why?” he
asks. A smile begins to play on Gary’s face.
“She’s…well,
she’s…she’s actually rather hard to explain really. I guess timeless is a good
word. Yes, she’s timeless, you know that classic that never goes out of style.”
Gary gives a coy grin, to which Tristan rolls his golden eyes.
“She’s beautiful and elegant too. But
she collects dirt from all the places she visits, so not too elegant.” Tristan
begins to fidget slightly and Gary notices.
“Hey, she has her PhD in
Meteorology, huh! How’s that?” Gary says. Tristan’s eyes immediately narrow on
Gary.
“What does she do for a living?” he
asks.
“Journalism. Mostly war pieces.”
Gary’s smile broadens as Tristan’s eyes widen. He pulls the clock out of his
coat pocket and replaces it.
“It’s time I get going then. Good
night,” Tristan says. He pulls on his overcoat and walks out the door.
“I expect to hear all the juicy
details tomorrow, Mate,” Gary calls down the staircase of the apartment.
“Tomorrow maybe,” Tristan’s
falsetto voice rumbles back up the staircase to Gary, who leans against the
rail with a goofy grin.
“I guess it would be out character for
him to say thank you,” he mumbles to himself. “Well, eat, drink and be merry, that’s
all one can do,” he adds as he strolls back into the apartment and bolts the
door shut.
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