PJ Creative Writing 102

votegirl

OK...here's a story/narrative starter, each poster picks up where the last left off...

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Fear gripped Elanor's young mind as she walked quickly down the street. She held her mother's hand as if, when the wind blew, she too, would blow away with the rustling leaves.

Elanor vowed to never forget the day he left. How could anyone forget that type of pain?




..........GO!

Spomenka

she was watching the wind raising the leaves that left from the braches so suddenly just the way he left..
she couldn't think about it no more. she tried to pick her head up and smile. but the wounds were still so fresh
....

casper leblanc

While hardly noticing her mothers silly, conventional rant about the dishwasher still being broken, even though she had the plumber come over to fix it not twice, but three times already in the last week, Eleanor tried to go back in her mind to find a decent clue, any clue, about why he had left her that mysterious, yet intoxicating note, one demolishing day before he suddenly vanished from her existance. An existance that was so void before he came along and made it bloom.

It seemed as if he had dissapeared from the sheer face of the earth, with only that twisted piece of scrambled writing on a crumpled piece of paper as the mere proof of his once so overwhelming presence, with she could still feel burning inside of her. This is what it said...



(sorry if I fucked up, English isn't my native tongue...)

Spomenka

I have to go somewhere, but i cannot tell you more about it. please understand me. it's not your fault. we may never see eachother again... i can't say i'm sorry for leaving you like this, because i'm not. we had some good times together and i want to remember that... that's why i didn't come to say goodbye, i couldn't stand to carry that picture of you in my mind... crying.
we may never see eachother again....
she stopped reading. she was forced to do so, the letter just slipped out of her hands, taken away by the wind that was blowing violently. she looke at it in a shock. not trying to catch it or anything. suddenly, a hand touch her shoulder, and she...

casper leblanc

was abruptly drawn back into reality by her bourgeois mother...

'So Eleanor? What do you think?' Her mother asked in her usual high pitched voice.

'About what?' Eleanor stumbled, feeling quite numb and wishing to be anywhere but here.

'About your father and I moving to France', her mother repeated somewhat irritated. 'Are you sure you'll be alright, here on your own in London? You seem so distracted lately...'

Squirrel

'I...' desperately searching for words Eleanor just stared at her mother's seemingly unaffected face.

How could she just stand there, like a rock, in the howling storm, while she herself felt like the faintest leaf.

How could she just blow a sentence like this at her in a moment, when even a breeze would have been sufficient to make her wear away...

Spomenka

Well?! her mother cried angrily. Now what? What is wrong with you?......
as her mother was having one of her outbursts, she just looked at her vaguely, not hearing her, not seeing her, just floating back in another dimension. Right now, her mother was just a shadow, and her words just the howling of the wind. she sighed heavily, and her mother stopped talking...

casper leblanc

'I'll be fine, don't worry,' Eleanor said after a few minutes, not really knowing who she was kidding more, her mother or herself.

On the one hand she was but too happy that her ignorant and conceited parents were leaving the country, but on the other hand she knew it was just another sad demonstration that she, indeed, was all alone in this world and this grey city that is London. Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe she should go and visit Muriel, her long time friend, who she had relentlessly neglected ever since he came into her life. How would she be? Eleanor took new courage from that thought and decided to pay her best friend a visit. Who knows, maybe Muriel would have any insights on what to do about him...

sultryevening

The silence tugged at her heart like greyhound at a ferret.
Vacantly she slipped out the front door, past the dying ponderosa on the veranda and into the mist covered field.
The fog was so heavy it clung around her feet making her believe , almost foolishy, that she was not of this world.
As she wandered she harboured illusions of belonging in some great novel, a spirit ; love-lorn; destined to wander the earth till reunited with her lover.
When she reached the gate the led out onto the bridge where Sam had died all those years before, she stopped and listened...

votegirl

.....nothing. Another day gone by, another glimmer of hope absorbed by the dense fog that sheltered the earth surrounding her home and her heart.

Eleanor removed the CD player from her only coat, the coat she was wearing the last time she saw Sam alive. Pressing the button on the CD player, the music filled her empty ears. The music, a respite from the nagging voice of her mother, a respite from her own thoughts.
"....How much difference does it make..."

Amaterasu

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