Why I don’t write fiction (unless assigned)

Saying good bye to a three and a half year relationship is not easy, thought Meagan as she prepared her speech. It was a break up speech. It would end of being their last conversation.

“Remember that time I spilled coffee on you and you wouldn’t talk to me for three days?” Meagan asked. “I am glad we made it through that. But there’s something I need to confess, I think this is going to be the end of the road for us. It’s not as though I haven’t loved every moment I have spent with you. Especially that time I was stuck in a ditch and you helped me get word to the police that I couldn’t get out.” She smiled a the memory of how he really had saved the day. The words were barely making out of her mouth. “It’s nothing you have done. I cannot really do anything about this. We just have to be apart.” Tears were swelling in her eyes as she pushed her thoughts forward.

Meagan had chosen a very public place to break the news. In a mall near a brightly colored kiosk, where neither of them could show too much emotion. But Meagan was showing emotion. He just sat there motionless, listening and never saying a word. Meagan knew this was because he was stunned. “I mean, we could still see each other, but there’s already someone new. No doubt I could try to keep you around forever and it might even go unnoticed. But you would be neglected, sitting on the side watching me as I pressed his buttons just the right way and spoke to him intimately like I have to you for the past three and a half years. But we made it further than most do. Just last week my sister ended her commitment after just nine months…”

Meagan knew that she was just forming unwanted excuses at this point “I cannot explain this any more. I feel like I have said too much.” She lifted her head up as a single tear was falling from her cheek. It splashed onto the Formica counter top she was standing in front of. Then she set him down, right next to his replacement. Carefully she picked up the new innocent and fragile love of her life. The young man on the other side of the counter who had witnessed the entire ordeal had a look far beyond puzzled on his face. “Um, are you gonna be okay ma’am?” he asked.
“Oh, I’ll make it.” Meagan said letting out out a heavy sigh. “But I have no idea how you can work in this business. Watching the relationships end must be so exhausting, how do you not get emotionally involved?”
The clerk was perplexed, “We manage.” he said dryly.
Meagan knew it was probably too tough for the clerk to talk about. She understood his pain. “Well thanks, I love my new phone, when you dispose of my old one can you make sure he’s face down? I’d hate for him to see your face as he goes down. You seem like such a nice guy.”

The fricken End

[note: I think I may submit this to my creative writing class this Wednesday, cause I have to bring something and hearing thirty people dissect it may be entertaining]

About kristiane

killing spiders with my laser eyes.
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4 Responses to Why I don’t write fiction (unless assigned)

  1. Billy says:

    oh that was great. What prose! I am very impressed with that. Can’t wait to read your novel.

    BTW, did you get the photoshop yet? I need to forward you an email about how to install it.

  2. kristiane says:

    No photoshop yet, but when I get it I am sure I will be bugging you non-stop until I get it installed. Sorry in advance:)

  3. tg says:

    Yay! for great details, great dialogue (or monologue, rather) and crisp, well written prose.

    Nay! for using the old “Tricking the reader by making them think protagonist is talking to/about a person, but they are actually talking to/about inanimate object.” It’s a little played out. Also Nay! for the falsely modest, defense mechanism title. You know you’re a good writer…stop acting coy.

    This is great. Are you using it for class?

  4. thanks for the GREAT post! Very useful…

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