Thursday, August 16, 2012
Trifecta Writing Challenge: "For Shy"
Those fans of the three base hit at the Trifecta Writing Challenge have issued a challenge centering on the word "home", and a story from 33-333 words. This story is called "For Shy"
I'm not a crier. I have my moments. But I'm not a routine crier. Some women are- a sad story, a bad review at work, and boom- waterworks. But me? Even at my PMS flame throwing best, not a tear. So I was genuinely surprised, almost angry, when I felt the tears welling as I left the table.
"I'll be right back," I had managed to stammer as I pushed away from my penne alla arabiata, backing out and away, walking delicately in my peep toe pumps across the soft tan carpet of the restaurant.
I had asked him what I thought was an innocuous question. "If you could live anywhere, where would you want to go?"
"New York...LA....Dallas....I don't know," he had said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Wherever you are."
I pushed myself though the faux leather of the bathroom door and found an empty stall. My tiny clutch found the floor, and I slid out of the teetering heels. I turned and sat, staring at my bare feet. I grabbed some tissue and dabbed at my eyes.
I told myself all the time that I didn't need anybody. I made enough money, I had friends, I dated, I had fun, I had no one to worry about but me. It was my life.
But this one was different. He didn't push, he let me be me, but he was so easy to be around, so nice. I felt a security I hadn't felt since elementary school. I felt comfortable and at home. Erica teased me with the M word, and I denied it, of course, but more and more, I was starting to think she had a point.
I looked at the floor. A few items had fallen out, a couple of folded twenties, a lipstick, and a wrapped tampon that I was waiting to have a need for. I bent over and gathered the items. Not yet, I thought. Maybe someday, but not yet.