Let’s finish the following story in a few sentences.
It had happened again. She now had to go to the park for a walk. Otherwise, the disappointment would drown her. She had failed again. She had failed the third time. Maybe, her dream job was not achievable after all. Perhaps, she had to let it go. Her failures could be signs that she should give up. She could look for another job, another dream.
She sat on the bench with these thoughts in mind. Her eyes were tearful, her lips shaking. While in this state, someone sat next to her. [Your continuation goes here]
To Write or not to Write and What to Write 
He was everything she had always hoped he would be. And then he was something more than she expected. She felt humbled to be in the presence of one so great.
He turned to her and with a knowing look, “Trying to succeed at something that was never meant for you is not the path of the righteous. I personally brought your robe of purity so that you might put behind the ways of old that never worked for you. Will you pick up my dream and help change the world around you?”
Her hands trembled as she accepted the pristine white robe made of the softest yet fluffiest material imaginable. As she wrapped it around her, suddenly all became clear. She was already who she was meant to be. The job wasn’t her dream, she WAS the dream. And as the first choice in her new role in life, she asked him to be the Best Man to her Perfect Life.
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Wow, this is a great ending to the story! I really love the lesson and the way it led up to it! Thank you so much!
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Great story!!
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Thank you! It is not complete, though! Do you want to complete it?
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That’d be an honor but this is something of your creation. It should be completed by the originator and that’s you 👌
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Well, I did not finish the story on purpose nor have I thought about the end. If you want, you can indeed go ahead:) but it is up to you, of course:)
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She was aware of the closeness of her neighbour. He wasn’t invading her space – she was certain that it was a he – but she felt the closeness strongly. Overweight or out of shape she thought; she could hear his laboured breathing quite distinctly. She tried to ignore this intrusion into her thoughts. What was she to do now? Try again, of course, but it seemed such a monumental struggle. She could feel the well of anxiety rising within her but was determined to swallow it. She wasn’t going to crumble and she certainly wasn’t going to fall apart in public. No, she just needed to think, to think clearly.
Unfortunately, clarity of thought was denied. She just couldn’t process it all. Not today. Her neighbour shuffled on the seat. She could see from the corner of her eye that he was rummaging around in the bag at his feet. An oversized bag that had seen better days. She detected a distinct smell that he senses had not registered earlier. Too pre-occupied to notice, she thought. Yes, he definitely smelt of tobacco and something else, something like a burnt piece of wood. She glanced at the man and caught the vibrancy in his eyes and the redness about his cheeks and nose. A heavy drinker maybe?
She needed alone time not this, not today. She rose to leave but her neighbour got up first, shaking his long coat into shape and laying his finger aside his nose as he did so. WTF she thought but immediately relaxed as it was clear the man wasn’t about to speak. He simply nodded and sprang away at a pace she wouldn’t have thought him capable of. He’d left something on the bench, she was about to cry after him when she noticed her name on the manila envelope in her hand. Her name written in beautiful copperplate script. The return address was Claus & Co; the firm who had interviewed her months ago.
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This is perfection! Lovely descriptions and the nice ending! Life is full of surprises at unexpected moments! Thank you for sharing your ending!
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A spirit of her own sat besides her. Talked to her in details about the previous distressful events which she strongly faced. Now is not different even way smaller than the events she has already overcome.
How is it?
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Short but sweet! I love it! She needs to see what she has already overcame!
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Yes. Agreed. 🙂
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Merry Christmas and a joyous new year Betul. Lots of love 🤗
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Same to you!:)
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Nice story, I wanna make another one myself in the coming days
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Please do! Thanks so much!
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Your welcome! Happy New Years to you
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Same to you!
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Stories are such a fascinating part of our life and storytelling makes our life much more meaningful. Each one of us has such lovely tale to tell, just that we hold us back from expressing our deep thoughts and making our voice count. There is so much joy in sharing our thoughts and caring for other’s stories. We learn from each other’s stories and art of storytelling is here to stay and we enjoy that lovely bit of engagement with the craft of telling and listening to such wonderful stories…your stories are making us listen.
Wishing you Betul a wonderful 2020 Happy New Year!!!
Signing Off 2019 from wondering “Makeup & Breakup.”
😀
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You expressed what stories mean to me so well! They indeed are us! They are our thoughts, feelings, disguised as characters!
Have a great 2020 and a great new decade!
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We can always discuss in length on these intriguing characters. Thank you so much Betul and have a lovely year ahead.
😀
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Ice blue eyes stared out from beneath an ancient bowler.
“Good heavens,” he addressed her, his voice filled with concern and caring, “what troubles you so, child?” She immediately felt as if he was father and grandfather and priest and best friend rolled into one.
Her story erupted from her in a flurry of words, streaming tears, hands flung in the air, her face dropped to her hands. As she sobbed, her benchmate remained quiet.
“I’m going salmon fishing.” he finally said, as her sniffling subsided. “My son took me salmon fishing for the first time when I was nearly sixty years old. I never really wanted to do it, but he did, and so that’s why I went along. Life was hard for me at the time, as I’d just buried my wife three weeks before receiving a terminal diagnosis.”
She was speechless. She felt as if she knew and loved this total stranger for no good reason, and now she was concerned after hearing his tale. She forgot her troubles for a moment, staring at this grandfather, knowing his time was finite.
“When I got to the Salmon River, it was crowded with people on both banks and at every bridge. It was not the quiet solitude of the kind of fishing I enjoy. There were so many people, so much competition for the same fish.” The old man sipped at a paper coffee cup. “Then I saw the salmon. Thousands of them. Big, beautiful, powerful fish. They raced up the river, raced toward their persecutors. They swam into each other, over each other, they crowded up to the roiling water at the bottom of the waterfall. People flailed their rods, the water was littered with baits, lines tangling, many fish pulled grudgingly from their watery world.”
She looked closer at the old man, looked for a script he was reading or a storybook. Who talks like this? And to a total stranger. Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t seem the least scary.
“Then the salmon charged up the falls. They’d make a run and leap four or five feet through the air. Up, up, face-first into the barrage of water. They would wash back down into the basin. They would nearly reach the crest of the fall and be knocked asunder by another. Then they would do it again. Over and over and over and over. The near-freezing water blasting away at them, crowds of people on every side trying to snare them. And you know what happened?”
She practically had to reawaken her senses in order to respond, so entranced was she by the lilting tones of his voice, the wonderment of where this story goes.
“Some of them made it.”
He stood and bowed toward her.
She remained frozen in wonder.
He leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of her head, and walked on.
Paz
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Wow, this is such a great continuation! I love the analogy and the way you expressed the relation between the two characters. I have nothing to say. It is just awesome!
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