Charas-Project
Off-Topic => Creative arts => Topic started by: Weregnome on August 09, 2004, 09:39:01 AM
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Narrative Story
One Sweet Moment
Rain poured down onto the dark concrete world. Dull white sneakers weakly touched the cracked sidewalk, every step out of coordination. Slumped forward by forceful depression, the young man wandered through life like a ghost. Strangers around him ignored him but worse yet those who befriended him had dispersed away, never to return. Like the dark clouds above his emotions were covered by a solid brick wall. Today, the wall had suffered the weather’s force, seeping out his deep pain. A cold, wet hand rubbed an aching forehead, chocolate brown eyes peering through the gaps between fingers. He sighed miserably, turning to watch the raindrops bomb the ground. Larry cringed as drops touched his eyes, fusing with salty tears, which ran, down his short face. It was impossible to tell from a distance, but the sorrowful look upon his face did likewise. Inside, the wall was crashing down more so, the pain gushing out like a black wave. He feebly walked across the empty side street, the dark images of the past slowly killing him. Larry fell to his knees as the rain’s intensity increased drenching his black windsheater and navy blue jeans. His own self-pity and the darkness around him slowly pulverized him into a chaotic state of sorrow. All his life’s pain was kept hidden within. The emotions now imploded out of the human shell, shattering his heart’s barrier. He felt alone, truly alone.
The rain was now a trickle, the sun’s rays beginning to appear through the grey clouds up above. Huddled in the corner, the drenched form of a curled up young man drowned in his sadness. Larry hadn’t moved all night. Eyes dried up of tears, raw and stinging, legs aching from the tight spot in which he sat. A weak smile cracked the downcast expression upon his face as he tiredly got to his black and grey sneakers. The young man knew his life wasn’t as bad as he felt; life still had its positives. As usual, the rain had washed away the previous day’s problems, rebuilding the barrier inside. At this time he was still vulnerable to the negative karma of his environment. When he was younger, just after high school, his friends had all moved. The new careers of today’s society were beyond their hometown, far away in the huge skyscraper city of Tyda. Larry stayed, doing what he does best; writing. However, his book was still not complete, the second year coming around the corner. These were probably why he was depressed. Being an introvert and social inept, making friends had always been difficult. More so was the pressure of rent, which was increasing at a stressing rate. He sighed, a white cloud spurting from his mouth. The cold numbed his skin, teeth rhythmically chattering away. Like a robot he walked a little further down the street, passing Bernard Short’s hotdog stand. Bernard smiled at Larry and waved his hand. Larry gave a polite nod, continuing his way to his apartment.
Warm air engulfed his frozen body, a shocked gasp exhaling from the young man. Muscles slowly loosened as he stopped further into the apartment lobby. Larry yawned and rubbed his eye’s wondering upon the day’s hour. Above him his eyes noticed the large round clock over the receptionist’s desk; seven o’ clock a.m. The young man cursed in annoyance, in just four hours his boss expected him at work. Maybe if he was lucky he could plead the day off. That’s if he pleaded hard enough. A miserable sigh later and he found himself in front of two cold elevator doors, staring into the nothingness of his thoughts. With a quiet chime the elevator stopped, opening and releasing a gush of cold air. Inside a pair of beautiful sapphire eyes caught his own; for a split second his heart skipped a beat. Lushes lips formed a smile, white teeth revealing themselves.
“You going up as well?” the young woman asked a glint of amusement in her eyes.
“Yes. Yes I am,” Larry stuttered walking inside, the doors shutting.
She smiled again, the light reflecting from her red lip-gloss. It was a shock for the writer, he had never spoken with this attractive young woman; yet she has lived right below him for over three years. Larry found himself awed by her presence, as if she was a symbol of positive energy. The feeling was quite intimidating. Once again their eyes meet, another heartbeat skipped. Larry felt his face going warm, so he turned his eyes to face a pale blue elevator floor. The young woman emitted a rich giggle. Uncontrollably his eyes slowly maneuvered to look at this woman. He noticed the large yellow star earrings and the light freckles upon her face. Long brown hair drooped off her shoulders onto her blue hooded jacket. Mesmerizing sapphires turned to meet him again. This time he did not turn away, he only gently grinned. She smiled softly, playing with her jacket zip.
“Tara Bennington,” she exclaimed. “My name is Tara Bennington.”
“Well…. Hello Miss Bennington. My name’s Larry Gibson.”
“Call me Tara. I hate being called Miss. It’s too formal.”
Larry nodded agreement and lightly chuckled. He grinned wider and lent up against the cream wall. Tara sighed in annoyance, glancing up at the ceiling, then back to Larry.
“Why is the elevator so slow? The stairs would have been quicker,” she said in frustration.
“I suppose so.”
“Hmmm… do you always answer the last statement people make?”
“No I just don’t answer hypothetical questions,” he explained.
“How do you know it wasn’t directed at you?”
“Trust me, I know. I’m a writer.”
She laughed shaking her head and Tara flashed him a cheerful smirk as the elevator opened. The gorgeous woman stepped out and waved goodbye, just as the doors sealed them off from each other.
The moonlight shone through the window of his apartment. Larry was able to get the day off, but found that he had nothing to do anyway. He sighed, remembering upon the previous day’s event. It felt weird, knowing what had occurred to him. For the first time he had spoken to someone on an off work basis, as a ‘friend’. A smile touched his face, closing his eyes and picturing her beautiful face in his mind. His hand limply fell to his side, his fingers running across the quilt of his bed. Gently, her name was whispered. It felt right saying the name, rolling off the tongue. Again a peaceful grin etched upon his face, eyes staring into the thoughts of his mind. Back in his mind, a voice was telling him to go see her. He hesitated at first, but knew it would torture him if he did not. Gingerly he sat up on the bed, dragging out some clothing from within his drawer. He made his way to the bathroom, adventuring over the mess upon the floor. Larry entered the bathroom and turned on the shower, the cold water like daggers to his skin. Feeling the warmth slowly invade the cold water, he stepped into the shower. The young man sighed and lent up against the tiled wall. For the first time in along time, he felt good about himself, positive about life.
“Tonight we’ll be something different,” Larry muttered, swirling the shampoo through his hair.
As he put the conditioner in he closed his eyes and concentrated on tonight’s ‘epic’ journey. No longer did he want to live a life amongst his dark thoughts. He wished to be free, to meet others and have a different approach to everything. This night, he would make the first step.
Once again the cold elevator doors stood to face him. This time they felt like an impregnable wall, standing against his starting act of bravery. Butterflies flew around in his stomach and a twitch irritated his fingers. He shook his head, trying to drive the sensation out. A cool breeze gushed from the opening wall, his heart beating faster, hoping she would be there. Yet, to his dismay no one was to be seen. With an agitated sigh he stepped into the chamber of the elevator. The doors closed, his finger selecting the floor below. The slow decent began, leaving Larry to the world of his thoughts. Desperately he wished to conjure a pleasant memory or thought, to drive some of the madness the mind showed. He closed his eyes tightly and hastily did he try to think of something else. Luckily an old memory crept into his mind’s view. It was long ago, when he was a young teenager, hanging out with his friends, Darryl and Matthew. All three of them were huge Japanese Animation freaks, and they would watch them over and over. This one day they were heading to a fancy dress birthday party. Darryl had come up with the idea for them to go as characters from their favourite anime, Gundam Wing. Matthew dressed up as Duo, Darryl as Wei Fu and Larry took the place of Heiro. That night was one of the best nights he ever had, and ever will. A grim smile crossed his face as the elevator doors opened. His heart skipped a beat. Tara stood in front of him with a surprised look on her face.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she grinned stepping into the elevator.
“Yeah, fancy that,” He replied, slipping his hands into his jean pockets.
The doors closed behind her and they stood faced to face. Inwardly he sighed in relief. He figured now it would be easier to ask.
“So… what are you doing tonight?” Larry asked leaning up against the wall.
“Nothing much, actually, I’m not doing anything,” she stated, her sapphire eyes glancing suspiciously at him.
“Well…. Um… would you like to go for a coffee?”
The elevator chimed as the doors opened onto the lobby floor. Once again she glanced at him, questioning his proposal.
“Okay let’s go Mr. Gibson.”
They both laughed at the response and made there way to the apartment entrance.
Around them the soothing sound of the saxophone played, followed by a soft drum beat. Larry and Tara sat at a small table in a place called Donovan’s. Every night it was opened to two o’ clock in the morning. Live bands, from a mixture of rock to jazz, played on the last days of the week. He loved coming here, more so he loved spending the night with someone. Tara’s slender fingers slowly stirred her teaspoon inside the dark cup of coffee. He smiled and looked past her at the band, The Minstrel of Five, as they played their favoured song, ‘One Sweet Moment’. Brown eyes wandered back at a beautiful face, sapphires taking his gaze. A glistening smile returned his way.
“Thank you,” she said. “Tonight has been great.”
“Hey, no problem. Anytime.” He replied.
She turned her head to look at the playing band. Her lips moved to the words of the song as it finished. Everyone applauded the Minstrels. Slowly, the person on piano began to play, Tara turning back to face the young man.
“They’re really good,” Tara exclaimed, playing with the left sleeve of her maroon skive.
“I agree. I think I’ve listened to their songs so many times I could recite all of them,” Larry explained.
“Who do you usually come here with?”
“I, that’s about all, even sometimes I’m not with me,” he chuckled looking at his warm coffee.
“Where are your friends?” she asked.
“All of them moved to the capital. You know how it is these days with majority of university coursed jobs being away from here.”
“Ah, I see…”
Both of them fell in silence, the sweet music emanating around them. He felt awkward and slightly embarrassed. Inside Larry expected her to politely leave, never to speak to him again. Inside he grieved his perceived future. Instead, he heard a gently laughter so he glanced up at the young woman. She smiled at him, and placed her head on one hand.
“Hey, don’t frown,” she ordered, “There is nothing wrong with coming here alone.”
How about the fact that all my best friends have gone away?” he miserably retorted.
“So? All of my best friends live elsewhere.”
Larry shook his head. Now he felt like a fool.
“So, let’s have a toast,” stated Tara.
“Huh? What exactly are we toasting for?”
“To the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Larry laughed as they hit their cups of coffee together. Their conversation drifted into the night, the jazz music softly playing behind. For the first time, since years, a feeling was placed back into his life. That feeling, was friendship.
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Wow. That's amazing. *Insert applaud smiley*
You are a very talented writer. Keep it up.
EDIT: Oh, that reminds me. First law of writing (According to WD):
There is no such thing as writer's block, sissy.
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@_@ omg man. you. write. exquisitely.
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:o
wow.
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thank u guys!
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Holy Crap! You write better than me, and I'm in like 5 diffrent creative writing classes. But...my stories usually end up with everyone dying and the only moral being "there is no good or happiness in the world."
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lol. yeh writing something like that is cool to do.
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I like your style and your writing. You have talent! And I say that sincerely. Have you tried to get your stuff published?
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Wow! That was great! I agree with danilynnarthur, you seem good enough to publish that!
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It makes me go happy smile
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lol thank u guys! your makin me blush :blush:
seriously i haven't considered getting it published. maybe one day when i right a whole book, or alot of short stories.