A Writer’s Staccato

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she had wished she could go back to the places

where she spent the night while dreaming.

.

she got up to drink lots of water and opened the curtains.

later she was sitting outdoors

.

writing, after she had read from her fourth book

that morning, that’s what she considers a lucky day.

.

enough peace and time to sip nectar

from the books lined up for her.

.

she was staring at her left thumb nail.

a bit uneven as always. wondering how

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and passing her middle finger back and forth on it.

lots of ideas to put down on paper.

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she sniffed the air and opened a bit her mouth

while curling up the tip of the nose

.

to trap the scents in.

she had learned that from cats.

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her friend was laying on his side

relaxing in the sun slightly breathing.

.

crises passed now. he really didn’t like her

gardening attempt and her watering all around.

.

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it looked as total relaxation. yet both had attentive

ears to the sounds around. nature yes

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and someone adding sounds of car doors

slammed back and forth and motors.

.

starting to pull them away. to their own homes

after they had bought some groceries nearby.

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she glanced at her nail once again. worried.

if she’d got up again she may lose concentration.

.

he could have gotten nervous by her restlessness

in spite of the beautiful day. humans.

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he may lose his patience. as if

reading her mind he got up

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to lay a bit further away to leave

her space. or to spy her better

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from under his lowered eyelids.

she was very good at making

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excuses to herself quite often.

her full potential scared her.

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so she used to heed to emotions.

to create pitfalls. that’s it.

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she started her first line. this time

inspiring the lemons’ scents in.

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lulled by the birds singing through the air.

no one needed to read it anyway.

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later she would go wash her car with her own

hands and file straight that nail.

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CSTL9402 copy

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This piece, originally published in 2013 under the name of “Ray’s Day”, was dedicated to Raymond Carver.

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4 responses »

  1. Raymond Carver, one my favourite short story writers. ‘she was staring at her left thumb nail.

    a bit uneven as always.’ Carver set new parameters for story telling, you have to pay attention.

    Like

    • So true Dermott, he slows you down, so you can “see” things, without the baggage of too many word! Happy you like his work. Thank you for your visit and comment. 🙂

      Like

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