Drifting Away

Got another Writing Prompt today from the fabulous Nina Pelletier on G+.  So here's the first flash fiction piece of the year based on this prompt:

#1 - 1st person POV
#2 - 400 word count maximum
#3 - Your character has an unusual superpower.  Very Very unusual.  Have him/her tell us about it.

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"Hey," he smiled at me. I loved his smiles.

“Hi,” my voice was tentative.

I hated meeting new people, especially new guys. It was my fault that I was such a loner. One of my girlfriends told me a long time ago that I should get over it. But we’re not friends anymore. Call it self-fulfilling, but I saw Gina and Thomas, my ex, run off together long before they did.

“I’m Jack.” He held out his hand and leaned over the counter.

I tried to act the dumb blonde bit and refused to shake his hand. Instead, I continued with my customer spiel. “Our special today is Midnight Moon Chocolate – it’s really good.”

He eyed me; deep blue, grey steady on mine. He withdrew his hand. For the past month, I was able to gawk at him. He was gorgeous. But I didn’t want to touch him. It would ruin everything.

“Tell you what, Kylie. How about you and I go out on a date. Tonight? This place closes at nine, right?” It wasn’t really a question.

I looked down at my nametag. He made my voice sound like music. “Fine,” I grumbled. It was going to be tonight or never. “Ten.” At least I could go home and get the smell of spoiled milk out of my hair.

We met later at the only theatre in town. We had coffee beforehand, we talked, and we watched the only movie playing at 11pm. I treated him like he was on fire, staying far away from his hands as possible. Touching would ruin everything.

He leaned against his car at the end of the night. “I have to ask, is there going to be another date?”

“Maybe,” I said. Here goes nothing. I planted a kiss right on his lips. It took him by surprise. But what I saw surprised me more. The first time I touch someone, I see the last moment I will ever see them. I feel my heartbreak. That’s how I knew about Thomas and Gina before it happened.

Jack was the first person who wasn’t going to leave me. He cried silently over a hospital bed, my hospital bed, and I felt myself drifting away.

When I pulled back from our first kiss, I had a tear on my cheek.

“That was different,” he said bemused.

“You have no idea.” I wiped the tear away.

Oh the internet...

She told her story.  Everything about herself unfolded through words, interweaving and designed together to make anyone passionate about how she felt.  She felt powerful, after reading those words, her words, staring back at her from the back lit LCD.  There was something about it that she couldn’t explain, except the desire.  That was thicker than ever.  She was hungry for it, hungry to divulge all of her secrets in the form of stories.  And she was delighted when people ate them up.

When she met Kevin for the first time, he really seemed to get her.  “Heather, you are so sensitive… but I love that sassy side.”  Her mouth skewed for a moment before she realized it was a compliment.  But it was strange to hear after just one cup of coffee.

Three years later, Kevin watched as Heather walked down the aisle, dressed in a gorgeous draping gown that flowed behind her.  She felt like a princess, everyone’s eyes on her, noticing her for the first time as a beautiful creature, instead of a beautiful writer.  Kevin whispered sweetly into her ear.

A year later, Kevin put down the morning paper and winced at her over his cup of coffee.  “Love, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Her eyes narrowed.  They hadn’t had the perfect relationship, but nothing had gone seriously awry.  She was waiting for that moment, always on edge that it was just inches away.  That everything was too good to be true.

“Remember that guy that always commented on your stuff online – scryer?”  Kevin swirled the stirrer in his coffee.  “Well, that was me.”

She thought about this for a moment.  Kevin had been following her for years… Probably ever since she had started the blog.

“It was no accident when we ran into each other in that coffee shop.  I fell in love with you before you even knew I existed.  I loved you so much, and I still love you, and I really hope that doesn’t creep you out, because, gosh, Heather, I really do love you.”

She had no reason to be frightened, or scared, because Kevin was her husband.  She knew him through and through, he was a good man.  Albeit probably a little desperate for my attention, she thought, but that was something that I loved about him.  She smiled sweetly and kissed him on the forehead.  “I only wish you would have introduced yourself sooner.”

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So I started this with the complete intention of making it into a horror, but I just couldn't.  Kevin was too nice of a character (darn him for making my brain turn to mush).  Anyway, I figure there are enough "woes of the internet" online and maybe, for once, we should have something sweet come out of a semi-stalker, because really, how often does that happen in real life?  Anyone have stories of a stalker that turned out to be good?  Or a little bit too obsessive internet follower?  Just curious :)

Under Our Feet

She ran through the train.  Her frame was so thin that she had a way of sneaking between people, ducking and dodging and laughing.  She heard his voice, begging him to slow down, but he couldn’t help but laugh too.  Hers was infectious, she had the squeal that bordered on annoying, but really was just pure joy that reminded most people of their childhood – of sillier times, simpler times.  Her red, long curly locks tossed behind her.  They were bright red, the color most people dyed their hair in attempts to imitate, but hers was completely natural.  Everything was natural – from her perfect, flawless skin that captured the sunlight in crystals and released them with a flash of her pearly whites.  It seemed that she sucked up all the life around her, releasing it back with more ecstasy than the rest of the world could ever know what to do with.

She raced back through the dessert cart.  Laughed and twirled herself around to make sure his beige eyes were still running after her.  She almost sideswiped a man drinking at the bar, but was able to roll around him.  She murmured a laughing apology before hitting the last cart.  She was almost at the end of the train.  

The door flew open underneath her feathery grip and she jumped out onto the end of the train with her arms open wide.  She watched the world float by underneath her feet, turned around just in time to allow those beige eyes to catch a glimpse of perfection.  Her eyes danced with mischievous determination, her mouth in a joyful smirk, her hair falling on all sides of her shoulders, but still framing her peach colored face.  She grinned, “Told you I’d win.”

He walked up to her and tucked an unruly piece of hair behind her ear.  With the world passing beneath them, he cusped her head in his hands and kissed her.  They embraced for a few moments before he pulled away.  He had a funny look on his face, a twisted side-smile that she couldn’t quite place.  She was about to ask what was wrong, but hesitated a moment too long and he knelt down on one knee.  He opened a small, red box.

Words cannot describe how she felt in that moment, but the crystals forming in her eyes were enough.  They danced on their way down her cheek, then got swept off her face and sent onto the world rushing out from under their feet.

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Inspired by my time in Napa Valley with my love - he proposed to me on the Wine Train, in the dessert cart, while the world passed under our feet.