The exercise:
Write about: the rumour.
Spent the morning harvesting for tonight's market, which I did by myself and that went okay. It was actually pretty hectic at the start, but by 7:15 I was on full time clock watching duty. Throw in some winds that were strong enough to require the tent being pegged down - and my greeting cards being taped to the table so that they wouldn't fly away - and it was a pretty eventful evening.
Pretty sure I'm taking it easy tomorrow, as I'm feeling exhausted right now.
Mine:
It's not fair. That's what it comes down to, really. I know life isn't supposed to be fair, but this seems a little extreme. I can't even get a date with this nonsense going on, you know?
I mean, what's a guy supposed to do? What would you do, huh? You think you're so smart, you got everything figured out. Go ahead then. Tell me your way out of this mess.
Silence. Of course. Not so clever now, are you? Do you understand me a little better after that little exercise? Walked a mile in my shoes and all that crap?
Listen. Okay? Just listen for a minute or two. I think I can find the road out of here. But I'm going to need your help. Are you in? Please tell me you're in.
Okay. This disaster started with just one person. So why can't it end with just one person? That person is you. You're my way out. All you have to do is believe me.
And then tell others the truth. Not this vicious, gossipy trash that's going on around here. The real, actual, factual truth. That's all. Can you do that for me? Can you tell the rest of this town that I'm not some violent nutcase?
Or do I have to start removing your fingers, one by one, in order for you to do that for me?
3 comments:
Marnie swore she would never listen to Jackie again. Not since she accidentally caused Marnie’s divorce. But here she was again, sitting in a Starbucks. Listening to Jackie lay out the facts of some new perceived scandal:
“Lou didn’t go home last night.”
“Or the night before.”
“Sheila is beside herself.”
“She thinks it’s Bobby Sue.”
Marnie’s head hurts as she tries to block out the sound. She tries to focus on the couple sitting next to them. Blonde, blue eyed, probably Danish. They sip their lattes, the woman speaking, the man listening. It seems so easy. She hears some of their words, surprisingly accent free:
“Did you get the butter?”
“What about the corn?”
“My sister will be here at two.”
“When does your brother come?”
***
“I don’t believe it.”
Back to Jackie. The daydream of the happy Danes ended with Jackie’s need for an answer.
“What should I do?” She pleads.
Marnie was always good with advice, so she puts herself in Sheila’s shoes, and Lou’s, and even poor accused Bobby Sue. But it was Jackie who asked for her wisdom.
“Stop screwing Lou,” Marnie tells her.
What time does the market finish? It sounds like it might be nine from the way you describe it, which does sound like the last hour at least will be pretty quiet.
Hmm, I didn't twig that your narrator was talking to someone until the end, when the threats really started, so that's quite a nice piece of misdirection you have going on there!
Rumour
Robbie's telling secrets to his girlfriends
Underneath the covers late at night;
Martha's telling them to the girls at where she works,
Ornamenting them as she likes,
Until the mangled secrets finally emerge, like
Rumours dripping bile and keen to bite.
David - that's a well crafted little scene you've given us. The Danes are a nice touch and that ending is pretty much perfect.
Greg - it ran 5:30 to 8:30, though the last one I attended ended earlier due to it getting dark sooner.
Thank you!
Fantastic acrostic from you, again. You got on a roll with these! Love the rhythm and pacing of this one - it's a joy to read aloud.
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