Look at me! I got my story done early today! Woohoo! 🙂
BTW, all of these stories have been fiction. While I may steal one bit from my own life, as writers tend to do, these have all been fictionalized accounts. Thank you as always for reading. If you want me to pop by and read a particular posting in your blog, please put the link in the comments and I’ll be there. Happy Thursday, y’all!
That Boy of Summer
There are rules to summers in a beach town:
Grocery shop at odd hours.
Enjoy your home on Saturdays.
Thrive in Septembers.
Ray wants me to break rule number two. My text laughs at him: Are you kidding?
The roads on Saturdays in the northern outer banks are parking lots. Going anywhere means sitting in your car for a stupid amount of time to go 10 miles, sometimes over an hour to make the 13-minute trip. Not the way I want to spend my Saturday. Not to mention the disruption to my lazy reading time.
“Please, Tish. It’s important.”
My heart skids. “Are you dying?”
“Christ, no. It’s your sister.”
“Is my sister dying?”
“Tish, just get your ass here.”
Worried, I decide to bike the 17 miles north. On the bike path I am literally speeding by the cars parked on Highway 12. No one except for Ray would have gotten me out today, not even my sister, who I hadn’t even begun to forgive.
When I get there, sweaty, thirsty, anxiety roiling in my stomach, both Ray and Kara step from their cottage, her hand on her belly, and I know instantly why they dragged me here.
The knife in my back turns, again.
end 4/12/2018
Sascha Darlington
I believed! 🙂 Glad it was fiction. But then, I tend to believe most is fiction unless someone says otherwise, hehe
Ha. We’re part of the same gullibility club. 🙂
LMAO probably so. Very little of what I write is connected to me, probably in some deep recessed part of my brain, but still I was pleased when one follower said, you must have had an incredibly loving stable family life, it’s obvious in your writing. Now THAT was a boon since it is diametrically opposed to the truth, roflmao so I guess that means I am a story teller? writer? woot
Yup! I’d say you’re a storyteller. (To think we used to get put in the corner for that.)
LMAO so true!
That last sentence really got me! Nice story.
Thanks, Emily. I don’t frequently let a story rest on one or two lines, but sometimes it’s fun to do just that. 🙂
It definitely worked!
🙂
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
Ha! This was great. I’m a fellow OBX’er myself. We stay on Ocracoke, but make it all the up to Currituck for lighthouse tours every other year or so. You’re right. Do not drive 12 on a Saturday. You’ll regret it. 😃😃
Ouch! That would have been rough. Excellent last line, Sascha.
L is for Lonely