Why I Write
When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful.
Please read my stories! If you would like to offer me feedback on my work, please click here and sign up for a free membership: https://heftynicki.Writing.com
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Blog, Blog, Blog #668986 added September 23, 2009 at 10:22pm Restrictions: None
So long, and thanks for all the fish
(Yesterday was) officially the last day of summer. How are your 'goodbye' scenes? Do they manage to evoke an emotional response from your reader? They won't if they don't evoke one from you!
Write
Pour your heart and soul into a goodbye scene of some sort (friendship, lovers, death, school, pet, etc., etc.)
(4:20 pm - 4:50 pm)
I hugged my sister again. This time we were in the driveway, standing next to the Hummer idling under the hot Georgia sun. My sister hated that car. She'd wanted to buy a Prius but her aristocratic husband had scoffed. "Please," he'd said, "a Prius would look like something my Escalade shit out." I hugged my sister harder, trying to push her husband's face out of my mind. He was the reason she was leaving. He was the only one who wanted them to move to Florida, and since he was the only one that mattered...His actual voice cut into my thoughts.
"Come on, Dean, we've got a long drive ahead."
Nadine pulled away from me, and I felt cool, aware of the sudden absense of her body heat. I swiped a tear before it hit my cheek and looked up into my sister's face. Her eyes were swimming too.
"I'll miss you, Aunt Nicole," my neice said, running around the back of the Hummer and wrapping her arms around my waist. I rocked her back and forth as we hugged, and pictures flit across my mind's eye. Chelsea in front of the Christmas tree holding up the ballerina doll we gave her. Chelsea, with sun kissed skin that made her cerulean eyes dance, and her bright red cast earned after a handstand on the trampoline went terribly wrong. Chelsea, giving me the necklace for my birthday that she'd strung herself, with beads hand selected with me in mind. Chelsea... I kissed her on the top of her head and she was gone, scrambling into the backseat.
"Hey!" I shouted, looking around. "Where's Damon?"
My sister pointed at the same time Damon said, "Here I am." He slammed into me with typical eight-year old grace, though his hug was soft like a fleece blanket. He tried to escape too quickly but I caught him by the shoulders. He smiled at me, exposing three gaps where teeth must have conspired and fell out at the same time. When would I see him? In a couple months, next year? I wondered if the next time I saw him his smile would be gap-free. He'd almost lost his baby face completely. The tween in him would certainly make his appearance soon. I told him I loved him, kissed him on the forehead, and released him. He stumble-climbed into the car.
Nadine and I hugged again. I couldn't stop the tears this time. We sobbed quietly into each other's hair as her husband reminded us, again, that it was past time to go.
"We'll come visit," I said.
"And we'll play Scrabble all night long," she said in an unsteady voice.
"And make chocolate chip cookies," I added, closing her car door for her.
Her window lowered and she reached for me. I grasped her hand as the Hummer started to back up. "I love you!" I cried.
"Me too!" Nadine said as her hand slipped from mine.
I waved frantically as the Hummer headed down the road, arms extended from all but one window. "Fuck you, Adam," I said under my breath, waving in a wide arc now that they were farther away.
Their car turned the corner and disappeared from my view. I covered my eyes, shoulders shaking in silent sobs.
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