Sunday, August 14, 2005

Flash Fiction #3 - The Glamorous Life

"You thought I forgot, didn't you? You thought I blew off all of our dreams, our hopes, our plans. I know I made promises, and I intended to keep them. I really did. I wanted more for us. I wanted everything. We were going to travel and see the world. Discover new cultures and meet exciting people. Speak French in Parisian cafes and drink Chianti in Italy. Wear designer clothes and drive Porsches to our high powered jobs. We were going to live the Sheila E. Glamorous Life.

And then when we tired of all that jetsetting, we'd settle down and have a family. Live on a farm....near the beach....with horses and dogs. There would be a studio in the loft for us to do our artwork. We'd shop at the general store and walk our kids to school. We'd sell our art and have the love that was always promised to us in storybooks......

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant for things to turn out like this."

She felt tears rise and a sob choke in her throat. All those dreams...gone...she stared at the picture and wiped a tear from her eye before it dropped onto the beautiful smiling face in the image.

She heard the door bang shut. He was standing behind her. She could smell the whiskey on his breath and the cigarette smoke on his clothes.

"Where'd that picture come from? I never seen that one." He was drunk again. She could tell. He lost his grammar when he was drunk.

"Art school. We went to the beach to take photos," she replied.

He stared intently over her shoulder at the photo. "I forgot you even went to art school," he slurred, "Damn, girl. You were one hot little chick back then. Girl in that picture doesn't even look like you," he laughed and smacked her ass. He thought he was being funny.

"I know," she said quietly, "I was just thinking the same thing. I don't resemble her at all anymore." He didn't hear her. He had already turned on the television.

She slipped the photo of her young happy self back into its hiding place and went to the kitchen to start dinner.

36 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's never too late.
Or so they tell me.


Tatyana

yournamehere said...

You could eat the despair with a spoon.

Anonymous said...
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Brookelina said...

Tatyanna - this is fiction! Maybe she'll realize it's not too late...ya never know...maybe I'll write more about her in the next Flash Fiction entry.

YNH - just the look I was going for.

Anonymous asshole - I delete all spam immediately. Fuck you and your ceiling fans, and all your little friends too.

Carly said...

heartbreaking... very good

Neil said...

Terrific! I especially like the part where he smacked her ass.

As much as I liked it, it was probably your most depressing tale.

By the way, I see you are a Virgo, which means it's your birthday soon. Do you want us all to chip in and buy you a ceiling fan so that spammer will leave you alone already.

sunshine said...

Ooooh that was bad. As in, good. Wowsa. Food for thought. Write on!

MoDigli said...

Great story, Brooke! It's sad to think that some people are actually living that kind of dispair.

Do you think sad situations like that are more common that happy endings?

Just curious.
It seems so hard to find a happy ending anymore.

BamaGirl said...

Very good writing Brooke! It's interesting how in this story, married life is equated with regret. It doesn't have to be that way (thank goodness!) I always promised myself I would never settle for a boring life. I have a feeling you are the same way! We'll never end up like the protagonist of this fiction! This story reminds me to always be going in the direction of my dreams--no stagnation!

emajames said...

i enjoyed that story a lot. you have an excellent writing pace (if thats what you call it) i can't wait for the sequel :)

im here somewhere said...
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Loz said...

you spoil us brooke.
very, very well done.

JJ said...

Good work, SMG. That's what happens when you give up on your dreams. Nice imagery.

Kris said...

Will you come to my site and take on the spammers too? You are a badass and I love it!

I love your writing. Both your formal and more informal writing carries a unique style. Thanks for sharing it with us!

Übermilf said...

Brooke, no fair making me cry. I'm going to make coffee now.

P.S. Cool blog!

Check out my site at designerwidgets.blogspot.com. It's full of useless crap you don't need!

Anonymous said...
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gone said...

They have infected all of us.

Oof. That story hit me hard and stole my breath. Very sad.

Now get used to work so you can be as prolific over here as you used to be.

Neil said...

I agree with 'cannot be trusted.' Since when is a job as important as blogging? Where are your priorites?

You must have time for at least posting one letter a day. And I mean one letter. Like "H" "E" "L" "L" "O". That could be your 5 day weekly posts. Is that so hard?

Just a few more days of nothing at this site and I'm just quitting blogging altogether and becoming a Tibetan monk.

gone said...

Om.

WhiteBoyBob said...

Great writing as usual there Booke. You must write a short story. I think the one about your old house would be great!

WBB

PS New post by WBB from beyond the grave at driverchris if you're interested.

Marel Lecone said...

I enjoyed this. You know, sometimes, even in a good marriage to a great guy with great kids, one can look back and wonder if all was done that could have been done. It seems as life moves on and gets busier, how will I ever accomplish all that I would have loved to do? Ah, to find contentment in the here and now . . . Talk to you another time.

Ruben said...

Beautifully depressing.I read this post and inhaled a half gallon of ice cream or at least that was the excuse I used to inhale the half gallon of ice cream.

Kid Sis said...

Love the "lost the grammar when he was drunk" detail.

Cactus Prick said...

It's great. It sounds in reality, which is what makes it so sad.
Nice work amiga.

Spirit Of Owl said...

Things do just slip quietly away don't they? You've beautifully captured that sense of realisation that comes to many people once they've fallen so far and they look back to their days of dreaming. Even if it's not as serious as this, I think there's a poignancy in this story that many people above a certain... level of experience can relate to. Thanks for an excellent read.

Anonymous said...
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Anonymous said...
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The real me said...

Nice story, Brooke.
I like how she was talking to her younger self.

Ever read ONE by Richard Bach?

Mauricem said...

Very poignant story and gives a lot to think about.

Girl With An Alibi said...

That was fantastic Brooke. You are seriously my idol right now. To write something that powerful and brief. I have trouble with brevity. It's one of my "improvement opportunity" areas. I'd explain that in more detail but then I'd blow my opportunity. :D

Brookelina said...

Thanks all of you! Such kind words for such a depressing story. I'd write a comment to each of you but I can barely keep my eyes open. It's a school night after all!

Harley Quinn said...

Marel said it all for me :).

I see you're being attacked...Good GAWD I cant stand anonymous posters.

Be sure to get some fantastical sleep :).

gone said...

Wow, that made my heart ache. It's really sad to know that there are many many people out there in this very position...good job on the story, brooke. Well done.

Warped Bryce said...

I'm drunk right now. I can relate.

Brian said...

Brooke,
Great story! Good thing I didn't read it after a glass or two of wine! I wouldn't have been able to recover

God said...

I didn't understand a _ _ _ damn word of that story. I was out too late partying last night. Just wanted to let you know I still keep a careful watch on you Brooke.