Last week, I felt inspired to write a vague bit of fiction for the first time in AGES. This week, I thought I’d try it again. I had another little idea and thought I’d see how it panned out when I put finger to key, as it were. I think I’m going to call these scenes Unfinished fiction as I like their vagueness and the fact they’re just a snippet of what could be a more developed story. And, because they’re left open, it lets the reader continue the story in their imagination (if they want to, that is).
Think about it. For last week’s guy, what happened to him? Did the phone ever ring again? Did he wait forever? Was he really in the dark all alone or was it in his mind? Did someone maybe drug him between phone calls? What was he really doing for the voice on the phone? Was he a surgeon, a hit man, a vet, a butcher, hell, even a tailor? The “so-still bodies” could have been mannequins, I suppose.
Let’s see what I can come up with this time.
She runs in the park every morning, without fail. Rain, hail or shine is such a cliché but there she is, hooded, if necessary. She’s quick. You can see her muscles flexing and releasing beneath the shiny spandex. She dodges dogs and children alike, anything in her path at that time of morning becomes an obstacle to surmount. Her energy seems boundless as she speeds through the green.
Up close, there’s a sheen on her upper lip and her breath is ragged. She runs toward the faint reach of the sun, yet she’s already on her way home by the time it’s gotten a hold on the day. She only ever lets the sun see her back as she streaks through the trees, legs burning, breath coming in gasps as she pushes herself that little bit faster each time.
She never runs with music. She likes the sound of the early morning silence, broken only by the sound of her sneakers on the pavement, her breath and heartbeat in her ears. There’s the occasional early bird in search of its fated worm and the breathless ‘morning’ of a fellow runner.
The music would also distract her from the pain and she likes to feel it. The sharp aches in her feet, ankles and knees. The burn in her legs and chest. The sting of sweat in her eyes. The ever rising heat of her body that tells her it’s working. Her greatest pleasure is getting somewhere from going nowhere – the exact same route – each day.
At least this one’s not as dark but what does it make me think? Well, I immediately wonder what she does next. Does she go home and eat a tub of ice cream or a super-healthy breakfast shake because her boyfriend broke up with her and exercise is how she deals with it? Does she grab brunch with her friends? I kind of like to think that she’s supernatural, a vampire pushing the boundaries of how much sunshine she can take. Or a modern day Little Mermaid training her legs and feet to be strong after giving up her fish’s tail. Or – wait for it – a vampire mermaid! Yes, that’s what I’m going with.
Image credit: Saying Images