The good-bye
This is my first experiment at writing a brief piece of fiction on the blog. Let me know what you think. It's probably not worth much, but I thought this would be fun.
He got up and walked across the room. He paced back and forth, shuffling his hands in and out of his pockets. In and out. In and out.
She sat there. She did not speak, but her brown eyes followed his as he walked. Finally he spoke.
"Why?"
"Because. I have to. We both know this is what is best."
He knew she was right. As much as he loved her, it would never work.
He would not look at her.
"Are you leaving now?"
"Yes."
"Is he waiting for you?"
"Yes."
Finally he looked up. In those eyes rested the only love he'd ever known. She was beautiful in that way a woman is -- full of life, full of intelligence, full of whatever it is a woman possesses that a man needs.
She held out her hand. He took it. They stood there a few moments.
"I will never love again."
"Yes, you will," she said. "You will."
He thought back to the night they talked. Dan sat in a corner and strummed his guitar, playing an old country tune that didn't fit the moment.
They had talked this way before, but it wasn't like this.
When the sun found its hiding place, his heart was hers forever. It surprised him and yet it didn't.
"This is best. You know it and so do I."
"I guess."
They embraced. After a moment, he sat down.
He held her hands and stared into her eyes. A few seconds passed. She saw a look she'd never know again.
"Good-bye."
He watched her as she walked across the room. Her sandy hair came to rest just past her shoulders. She was tall, with a dancer's legs, and an innocent smile that belied a lifetime of disappointment.
She gave him one last look.
"Good-bye, Jake."
She left.
He listened to the thud of her feet on the stairs. It faded.
Never again would he hear the laughter. Never again would his heart leap into his throat. Never again would she look at him, flash that brief, embarrassed smile, and look down at the floor.
She was gone.
He lay there awhile. At dusk, he rose and walked out into the night.
A soft rain began to fall.
2 Comments:
"...full of whatever it is a woman possesses that a man needs."
Too deep for the fast-paced www. The tone reminds me a bit of McMurtry.
I think you should continue... has a comparison to Sparks and the writings he has put out. A chapter cut from the middle of a life, a life you'd like to know more about. :) We should collaborate sometime.
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