just a little messing around with a story scene...thought i'd try something other than poetry for this monday (yes, i'm posting on sunday b/c this monday i have to work).
Michael never knew what hit him. He walked out of the anteroom, looking for Anne’s green eyes to reflect his readiness to leave this place. Overstaying his welcome never appealed to him, as people responded well to his cavalier attitude when it came in small doses. Anne knew this, and kept herself ready for his quick departures, although he knew she often wanted to stay longer. From across the room, he saw her face light up as she saw him enter, although in an instant he detected a mischevious note in her face, not a good sign for an early departure.
Before he could think of the reason for her quirky look, James put his arm around his shoulder. Michael, always ready for a hug responded and then felt James tense and try to pull him to the ground. Wrestling! Immediately their bodies kicked in instinct, and the fight began in earnest. Michael never stopped to ask why James would bother to tackle him; why at this moment when things had been going smoothly he would try to conquer him and show his greater strength, no, he merely fought back, passionately, intensely, like everything else in life he put his whole heart into the frivilous spat.
Lost in the moment, he forgot his desire to leave, to be done with this evening and all the nuances. He gave himself up to the task, moving and grasping, trying to get a good hold on James’s wiry frame. James always relied on squirming around, hoping his quick moves would tire out the stronger opponent. Michael, knowing this, focused his strength as a bulldog, working each hold to full advantage and pressing James toward the floor.
Dimly, Michael heard Anne call out a warning as they neared the edge of the balcony, but even her eyes had been lost in the consuming focus of the match. The scream, which followed a sense of weightlessness stopped his heart for an instant. In that instant, he realized the edge of the balcony no longer supported his feet and he prayed. The arms that caught them felt like angels and they scrambled back up with thanks beating in tune to their hearts.
Very cool story. The terse style really brings the action to life, one can almost see the wrestling match going on.
ReplyDeleteInteresting. I like the style as you describe the action, though it's a little weird to be in a third-person omniscient view.
ReplyDeleteThe description of you saying he "never thought about why" is a little awkward. If he never thought about why, then we shouldn't have to bring that fact up, just don't bring up thoughts of him thinking why.
(I know this is a little critique, but I can't help it haha)