A Short Beginning . . . 2 a.m.
Ok, after the public flogging I received for my recent wank-fic post, I have attempted this morning to redeem myself. I am exploring and experimenting so please be patient.
The following is the beginning of a short story or scene for my novel. I hope you like it. Let me know.
At 2 a.m., Harry opened the front door to his apartment in the suburbs of Detroit and was surprised to see his - soon to be ex-wife - tears and mascara lines steaming down her face. Her tears dripped onto her pink silk blouse leaving dark blotched circles. Her blonde hair was tussled as if she had been recently awoken.
“What’s wrong Patty?”
“I – I, it’s Cindy, Gary just called, she’s been k…k…killed … in a ….ca…ca…car accident.” She said in rapid staccato sobs.
She plunged into Harry’s arms and he enveloped her. They held each other tightly.
“I’m sorry, Patty, I heard it on the police radio.” He said as he patted her head and kissed her cheek.
“She was my best friend.”
“I know.” He cupped her face in his hands and turned it upward to look into her beautiful cobalt-blue eyes, “I am so sorry.”
She gazed into his eyes with loving affection and kissed him. It was a slow lingering kiss, which nearly buckled Harry’s knees. He pulled her inside and closed the door. He hadn't been with another woman since their seperation.
The divorce proceedings had been brutal and ongoing for two years. She had started going out with a guy from work named Dick Cabitt for the last two months. The relationship hurt Harry deeply but he tried not to show it. He and Patty had separated because of the hours he spent as a Detroit Homicide Detective and his inattentiveness towards her.
Patty had told him she needed to find herself. Yeah, find her self in the arms of another man, Harry thought. But tonight she was in his arms. He led her back to his bedroom and they slowly undressed.
The lovemaking was very good, as it had always been. It was sweet and tender; two lovers that knew each other's bodies well. The passion, however, was gone - at least from her. Harry told her, over and over that he loved her but she couldn’t or wouldn't say it back. When it was over, she wept into the pillow. Harry tried to hold her but she pushed him away. He still loved her but there was nothing he could do to bring her back.
“This was a mistake. I am sorry,” Harry said as he stood up naked and groped for his robe. He turned his head away from her so she could not see the tears welling in his eyes. This was salt in an already festering wound. “This was wrong. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, Harry. I needed you.”
“I love you Patty.” Harry said as he left her there in bed and walked out to the kitchenette. He opened a cabinet door and pulled out a large old-fashioned glass and a bottle of Glenlivet Scotch. He poured two fingers worth into the glass and drank it down. He was shaking.
Patty came out of the bedroom wearing his shirt and nothing else, “Harry?”
He didn’t speak. He poured another two fingers of Scotch.
“Harry? Talk to me.”
He threw the Scotch to the back of his throat and swallowed. He shivered and looked at her through pained eyes.
“Don’t you understand?”
“What?”
“That I love you. Still.”
“I can’t handle a romantic relationship with you right now.” She said as she took the glass from Harry’s hand and placed it into the sink.
“What was that?” He asked, as he swept his hand towards the bedroom.
“I was in pain. I thought you wanted it.”
“I did but now I wish we hadn’t”
They were silent for a few moments.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“Gary said that the police suspect foul play in Cindy’s death.”
“Foul play?”
“Yes.”
The following is the beginning of a short story or scene for my novel. I hope you like it. Let me know.
At 2 a.m., Harry opened the front door to his apartment in the suburbs of Detroit and was surprised to see his - soon to be ex-wife - tears and mascara lines steaming down her face. Her tears dripped onto her pink silk blouse leaving dark blotched circles. Her blonde hair was tussled as if she had been recently awoken.
“What’s wrong Patty?”
“I – I, it’s Cindy, Gary just called, she’s been k…k…killed … in a ….ca…ca…car accident.” She said in rapid staccato sobs.
She plunged into Harry’s arms and he enveloped her. They held each other tightly.
“I’m sorry, Patty, I heard it on the police radio.” He said as he patted her head and kissed her cheek.
“She was my best friend.”
“I know.” He cupped her face in his hands and turned it upward to look into her beautiful cobalt-blue eyes, “I am so sorry.”
She gazed into his eyes with loving affection and kissed him. It was a slow lingering kiss, which nearly buckled Harry’s knees. He pulled her inside and closed the door. He hadn't been with another woman since their seperation.
The divorce proceedings had been brutal and ongoing for two years. She had started going out with a guy from work named Dick Cabitt for the last two months. The relationship hurt Harry deeply but he tried not to show it. He and Patty had separated because of the hours he spent as a Detroit Homicide Detective and his inattentiveness towards her.
Patty had told him she needed to find herself. Yeah, find her self in the arms of another man, Harry thought. But tonight she was in his arms. He led her back to his bedroom and they slowly undressed.
The lovemaking was very good, as it had always been. It was sweet and tender; two lovers that knew each other's bodies well. The passion, however, was gone - at least from her. Harry told her, over and over that he loved her but she couldn’t or wouldn't say it back. When it was over, she wept into the pillow. Harry tried to hold her but she pushed him away. He still loved her but there was nothing he could do to bring her back.
“This was a mistake. I am sorry,” Harry said as he stood up naked and groped for his robe. He turned his head away from her so she could not see the tears welling in his eyes. This was salt in an already festering wound. “This was wrong. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, Harry. I needed you.”
“I love you Patty.” Harry said as he left her there in bed and walked out to the kitchenette. He opened a cabinet door and pulled out a large old-fashioned glass and a bottle of Glenlivet Scotch. He poured two fingers worth into the glass and drank it down. He was shaking.
Patty came out of the bedroom wearing his shirt and nothing else, “Harry?”
He didn’t speak. He poured another two fingers of Scotch.
“Harry? Talk to me.”
He threw the Scotch to the back of his throat and swallowed. He shivered and looked at her through pained eyes.
“Don’t you understand?”
“What?”
“That I love you. Still.”
“I can’t handle a romantic relationship with you right now.” She said as she took the glass from Harry’s hand and placed it into the sink.
“What was that?” He asked, as he swept his hand towards the bedroom.
“I was in pain. I thought you wanted it.”
“I did but now I wish we hadn’t”
They were silent for a few moments.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“Gary said that the police suspect foul play in Cindy’s death.”
“Foul play?”
“Yes.”
