The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the inevitable.
Do you ever get a word stuck in your head and you end up using it over and over again, either in your thoughts or out loud, or both? Well I do, and inevitable was today's word.
I imagine making it a prompt isn't going to help any.
Heading back to the market in the morning, to sell plants and rhubarb and greeting cards. Fingers crossed the rain will leave us alone.
Mine:
The destination awaits our arrival. We may get there early, we may be late, but it knows we will reach its murky shores one way or another. There can be no other ending to our story.
But still we fight as though another option existed.
4 comments:
I can imagine that using 'inevitable' a lot in your everyday conversation would worry the people around you... I approve! Hope the market is a good one of the start of the season :)
That's a nice little, almost hopeful, four lines. I like that your protagonists never give up, even when they're not hopeful about the event outcome.
The inevitable
"According to Twitter," said the Green Lightbulb, poking idly at his smartphone, "the Inevitable is coming."
"Isn't it always?" asked Dr. Septopus, staring miserably as his laptop screen, where Ms. Project was alphabetising his to-do list for the year.
"At least it never actually arrives," said Sylvestra, sliding a copy of "Programming MS Office for power-users" into her handbag and sitting on it.
"I don't think you're taking this seriously," said the Green Lightbulb, looking up.
Marc, I had the phrase "I don't see anything saying it's illegal" stuck on my mind and coming out of my mouth as I gave driving directions to my boss on a business trip recently. It would have been so much better to say, "It's safe to turn."
The Inevitable
The sun rose today, even though it’s Monday and I am more than mildly hungover. During breakfast my son told me the funniest joke that he’d ever heard, even though I’d heard it when I was five myself, and he’s told it to me every morning for the last month. The mailman arrived punctually at 10:35 even though he only had junk mail and three overdue bills to give me.
And I missed you.
Well, how long has it been since I posted a comment on here? It's good to be back. Your prompt inspired me to write more than I expected...
A tangent in the conversation hinted he wasn’t telling me everything. In his own way he was concealing information to protect me. He calls it “not telling me everything” but I call it lying. He knew it was coming the moment I gestured “stop” with my hands. Me sitting here, in the car, in the passenger seat, and him with white knuckles clenching the steering wheel. Time slowed as he pulled off the main road and parked crooked next to a lamppost. Turning the car off he still hunched over the wheel as if ready to speed away if necessary.
I felt the tension in the car like the buzz of the engine, but I remained quiet. I knew the inevitable was coming. I had known for three weeks, so why break the silence now? So, I waited. The tension grew as his breathing quickened and finally, with a release of breath, words spilled out his mouth, shocking the silence and falling oddly in the open air.
“Three weeks ago, I met Katherine at a coffee shop, to catch up between old friends. And it felt like the eight years we hadn’t seen each other never existed. We talked and talked and coffee turned to lunch and lunch turned to dinner the next day. Then, she invited me to her place and this was where I should have been strong. I should have said no, but I didn’t. I didn’t…We had sex that night…then the next night, but each night I would leave her place and come back to you and I would realize what a fool I was. I had sex with her twice and that’s it. After the last night, I broke it off. This whole incident made me realize I don’t love Katherine and I will never love anybody but you.”
After the torrent of words, more silence pursued. A silence of my own doing, a silence in my control. He waited, looking at me, as I looked out the front window. I stared at nothing. What was I supposed to say to such a confession? Cry and curse him? What was the point? Throw my phone at his head and accuse? He had taken that power from me when he confessed so honestly.
So I sat quietly in an indecisive manner. Uncomfortable, but completely blank, null and void of any feeling. It wasn’t like I hadn’t suspected. The last three weeks, Jeff had grown distant. He touched me less, was reluctant in showing affection and it had occurred so abruptly. I knew. But I only had suspicions. Now I had the whole truth and what was I to do with this man? This situation? All I could do was leave him waiting for the inevitable, the way he left me waiting for three weeks, left me with this tension and insecurity.
Why let him hear an answer right away when he had left me for three weeks because of his cowardice, his guilt and shame? No, I would sit here until he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. He would plead, he would cry, he would shout, but here I would sit, adamant that he suffer the inevitable.
Greg - hah, fun little scene :)
Aholiab - haha, that's great. I could totally see myself doing something like that.
Very nicely executed. You set up that final line perfectly.
Brittany - it has been too long! Good to see you back :)
Powerful stuff here. Can really feel the tension and emotions. Very well done.
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