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Jun 4, 2007

Stories and Dreams

Hi All!!!

I have decided to make up a story: a short one: so I don't intend to intrude on Melissa's territory: anyway she is much better than I at making up stories!!


Sandra sits, wrapped in a world awash with colours. Her blue eyes appear empty and lonely: although she is not. She is a contradiction this silent girl. She wants what she cannot have, but wants to push away at the same time. So she just sits, in this world not of her own making. SIlence suits this girl, who rarely finds anything to say. Why question a world so mixed up?

But her parents know nothing of this. They think she is shy. "Oh well she get better soon" they say to one another shaking their heads in solemn disapproval, as they have been doing for the past 10 years. Sandra knows that they are talking about her. They always whisper around her: like she is sick, like she is a ghost they must fear. She doesn't mind this. After all, maybe she is sick. Maybe she is a ghost. She doesn't know, so she doesn't question. So she just sits, in this silent world.

That night in her bed, she shivers a little with the cold. She falls asleep. Well: until she hears the knock at the door, anyway. So she goes to open it. There stands Anthony: a friend, she thinks mechanically. She greets him cooly, but least she does that she thinks. He starts to stumble eagerly over words: coming now in rapid succession. She stops him short: reaches for her coat and leads him to the door: ready to be taken wherever he wants to take her. But he lies a hand on her: saying: "Stop Sandra, there is a question I must ask". Her mind goes blank. Of course she says yes, she thinks she ready to be a willing wife. But he stops her once again. He demands she tell him why she likes her quiet world so much. Why she will not respond to him beyond simple answers. She shakes her head sadly. "I cannot" she whispers. "I keep a secret in my soul and if I speak I am afraid it will fly away". She expects him to get angry and go away as everyone else has. But he doesn't: he cups her in his arms, reassuring and safe. She tenses, waiting for the questions that should come. But instead he sighs, and says "If that is your reason, than I will be happy with what I have: you". She is amazed and over come so stays in that safe, warm world from where she never wants to leave.

That is my story. It is Queer But I Like It

Jo

4 comments:

Mrs. Lachlan's Chris said...

Hello Daniel,

Perusing your composition has definitely put a change into the otherwise monotonous tone of my uneventful period, I mean day. I do have hope that your health is ideal, not tarnished and wish the same about your shoes.

Mrs. Lachlan's Mum.

And now:

Hi Jo,

I are like your story, I find it to be a combination of story and poem. I think that you should expand it, coz I think it has a lot of room for more. :->

Chris.

Finbarpurpleton said...

I like your story Jo. Its very poetic and dreamy in a way. Don't worry about expanding on anyones territory. Writers territory is a vast plane of words and people of many, which you're welcome to join at anytime.

Melissa.

Tohou Lidia said...

That's really beautiful Jo! You have a really distinctive writing style! You should write more!

luv Amy

Finbarpurpleton said...

Hey Jo,

Just thought of this. But have you considered joining fictionpress.com? You can post your stories there and have people review them.

Melissa

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