I enjoy writing. It's why I wanted to start a blog, but I am my own harshest critic. What if no one likes what I write? How do I get these grand ideas in my head into a coherent story? The crazy nightmares I have would make Stephen King quake in his Nikes, but how do I get there?
I go on Reddit a lot, and one of the subreddits I follow is r/writingprompts. People will post a prompt for a short story. There's a lot of frequent fliers on there, so if you enjoy short stories and use Reddit, you should check it out. Anyway, there was one prompt that really caught my attention.
You and your partner bought a pair of rings that let you feel each heartbeat from anywhere in the world. Your partners dies and you bury them with the ring. Years go by and you haven't gotten over them. Out of nowhere they appear at your doorstep... still wearing the ring. But you feel no pulse.
Creepy, right? This is right in my wheelhouse, and it's easy enough to channel that energy into a story because I wonder what I would do if Jamie and I were in that situation. He's my best friend and the love of my life. What would I do if he was a no-longer-deceased person? I haven't figured out where I'm going to take the story just yet, so I don't want to use the word "zombie".
I've copied it below. So let me know what you think!
-A
Part One
Coming home from
the hospital the night my husband James died, I was in a trance. The home we
had built together felt like a strange, dark place without his bright energy.
He was my sun and moon, and my sky was forever darkened. 25 years of marriage,
over in the blink of an eye. The father of my children, the best friend I ever
had, my confidant, my life partner--gone.
Our children were
all grown, but my youngest daughter Anna came to stay with me in the aftermath.
I slept on the sofa. Our bed just wasn't the same without him beside me. His
pillow still smelled faintly of sweat and his shampoo. It would smell like that
for the next few weeks until Anna finally had enough and put it into a garbage
bag and hide it in the attic.
"Mother, you
need to sleep! You haven't slept since Dad died."
She was right, of
course. My nights were restless, and it wasn't just because of the sofa. When I
closed my eyes, I could still see my James's face. His blue eyes, usually full
of laughter and joy, were cold and empty. His flushed complexion gone sallow.
Even a month later, I couldn't get the last image of him out of my head. But I
needed to try. For Anna's sake, I needed to try.
"Happy 15th
anniversary, my love."
James kissed my
cheek and handed me a small square box. I carefully unwrapped the packaging and
inside were two nearly identical rings. I picked them both up and held them in
my palm.
"Baby, what
are these? What's wrong with the rings we have now?" I asked.
He picked up the
smaller and thinner of the two rings and slipped it on my ring finger above my
wedding band. He held my fingers in his and brought them to his lips.
"This way, we
will always be together."
I kissed him
deeply.
"We're always
going to be together anyway."
The world continued
to spin. Life went on. But for me, there was no living without James. The ring
on my finger felt like it was made of lead without the gentle pulse of his
heartbeat. But I couldn't take it off. I just couldn't. If I took it off, that
meant I would have to let him go. And I wasn't ready. Not yet.
One day, while
boiling the kettle for a cup of tea, there came a knock at the door. Through
the frosted glass I saw a figure. Tall, broad shoulders.
"Who is
it?"
"Gen,
I can't seem to find my keys. Can you let me in?"
I froze. No. No. It
couldn't be. After all these years. Was it possible?
"Gen, are you
in there? Hello? Honey, I can't find my keys or my phone."
I slowly opened the
door. There he was, standing before me. It seemed as though not a day had
passed since I last saw him alive. Tears flooded my eyes and I collapsed to the
floor in a severe anxiety attack.
"Honey?! Oh my
god, honey it's okay. Shhh, it's alright. Shhh. It's okay, baby. It's alright,
I'm here," he whispered as he stroked my hair and held me to his chest. It
was him! But something was...off...
"James?"
I said, wiping my eyes and trying to steady my breath. "How is this
possible? How are you here? What's going on?"
"I don't know.
I woke up in front of the church, no phone, no wallet, no keys. I don't know
what day it is or how I got there. What's wrong? What happened?"
He looked worried.
His blue eyes were no longer devoid of life. His chest rose and fell with each
hurried breath...but he wasn't breathing. The ring on my hand was silent.
"James...is
your ring still working?"
"Yeah, of
course. It's pulsing like crazy. You need to calm down. I think I just heard
the kettle. Let me make you a cup of tea and you can tell me what's bothering
you."
Comments
Post a Comment