She could hear him breathing.
She could turn the knob, and he—Sam—would be hers. Sam who drank coffee. Sam who ate cake.
But that would be the end of Ralph. The end of Ralph and her.
But what. What if it was the end?
But Ralph...
Ralph drank coffee. Not the coffee, but coffee.
But no cake...
Ralph with his mouth running on and on and on and
Why not end it? Why not turn the knob and be with Sam. Sam who drank coffee, Sam who ate cake. Who was breathing on the other side, she could hear him breathing, she could hear Sam, she could hear him on the other side.
If she turned the knob, Sam would be breathing into her ear. Breathing onto her neck. Kissing her neck. Running his tongue along her mouth, along her neck, along her ear. Parting her mouth with his...
But what if Ralph could—Ralph—what if, what if he drank the coffee...if he ate the cake?
He wouldn't...
It was hers to turn, the knob. Turn it. No. Turn the knob and—No. Be with Sam. Be with Sam and be. And be and be and
Hey there, FRESH MEATers!
How ya been?
What’s new?
What’dya know?
So this ⬆??? Yeah, this ⬆ is one of those 200-word jobbies1 where you have to make an exactly 200-word story using exactly 50 unique words (of your choice).
I do this “Saunders” exercise2 when I hit a rut in my writing. Something about being limited by the rules of the word count forces me to just write (versus thinking too hard about the story and trying to manipulate it).
You see, lately, I find that when I try to manipulate/steer a story too much, it comes out lacking the things I love most: Rising action. Tension. Conflict. Stakes. Urgency. Intimacy. (You get the picture.)
So, yeah. That's what I’m up to. I’m on a tension-building kick. Diving deep into the ingredients. Searching for that something you can’t quite put your finger on, that tip of the tongue feeling that feels so good.
One of the books I’ve delved into is Thrill Me by Benjamin Percy, and I think he really hits the nail on the head with this:
“…desire is the most thrilling and pleasurable and terrifying condition. Anticipation satisfies us in a way acquisition does not.”
So that’s what I’m trying to make. What I’m practicing. I don’t think the above story is it, per se, but I think I’m on the right track.
Thanks for being here while I keep working at it. Let’s hope I break on through (to the Other Side).
Until we MEAT again,
🥩Maegan
50 unique words: along, and, ate, be, breathing, but, cake, coffee, could, drank, ear, end, he, hear, her, hers, him, his, if, into, it, kissing, knob, mouth, neck, no, not, of, on, onto, other, parting, Ralph, running, Sam, she, side, that, the, to, tongue, turn, turned, was, what, who, why, with, would, wouldn't
This is an excellent thought. Anticipating something is nearly always better than receiving or experiencing the thing. Reverse anxiety. It ties to dopamine, the chemical of motivation.
I love that, despite the strict story criteria, that you've managed to make something so lyrical. Excellent rhythm and escalating tension. If this is what you produce when you're stuck, I can't wait to see what you write when you're not in a rut!