I'm not sure how or why I wrote this - was it inspired by a class, or a prompt I saw on Tumblr? Knowing me, it was probably the latter. The stories I produced for creative writing classes almost always seemed to under-deliver. Anyway, on with the show!
Like the Winter Sunset
[Prompt: Write about the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen]
We met up for coffee at Rozlyn Square. The Bean Gourd was her favorite shop, and so there was no better choice than there. She ordered a peppermint latte, and I ordered an almond mocha.
“It tastes like a candy cane,” she said by way of explanation when I asked. She had an adorable giggle, like an icicle striking a silver bell capped off with a bite of her lower lip. It was worthy of an oil painting to be hung on the wall of a museum or a private collector somewhere in a glittering city. Trust me when I say that it makes more sense in context: I drew that comparison and it fits, because she works as an art dealer. And as I am a poet and part-time creative writing teacher at the local community college, it’s my job to play with words. I am her canvas and she is my muse if you will.
Today was a frosty day in the transition between seasons. Fall was turning to winter, and the days grew darker sooner. Yesterday had been a shivery one full of freezing rain and slushy sleet as if the weather couldn’t make up its mind whether or not to actually snow, but the end of November was still too early for that.
“So how’s the writing game?” she asked me, “Anything published yet?”
She knew the answer to that one. Neither of us was exactly a starving artist, but there was no question I made more money from my teaching than from my verses.
“No, but I’ve got a collection coming out on New Year’s,” I replied. It had taken three months and two-thousand dollars, a full semester’s worth of salary. It’s like they say – an engagement ring should be three months’ worth of pay, and from a certain point of view, a book of poetry, too.
“What’s it called?” she said, breathless with anticipation.
“Silver Hill,” I said, and mentally kicked myself. “No, that wasn’t it. It’s actually Like a Winter Sunset. Silver Hill is the name of the first poem in it.”
Her face fell a little bit, at that correction. This coffee date was a bad idea. It was starting to fall apart. Did she think that as well, or was I just overreacting? She looked like she was in the midst of the act of mentally undressing someone. And she was looking at me. Me. Alas, poor me. I may have the soul of a poet, but only the brain of a Yorick. She continued to study me, leaning in so that the top of her head was tilted towards me. Her smoke-grey beanie slid off her flaxen hair. I caught a whiff of petrichor – the smell of rain. From behind us came a sudden rattle, but it was only the sound of the wind in the trees, rustling the leaves. Talk about an awkward silence.
Then she smiled, and all my anxiety melted away. Her little chattering teeth bobbled like icebergs as she laughed. Her eyes shimmered like chips of jade. Her nose, the one she hated because she thought it was too big, that bounced up and down too. In all honesty, I adored her nose. She might think it was too big, like her jutting ears, but to me, it just meant she would turn out to be wealthy and powerful – or in a less avaricious sense, she would be blessed with a lot of good fortune. Her cheeks had the cutest dimples I’d ever seen. There was no way anyone could look at her face and not be happy. So I started laughing along with her. That was a bit of serendipity right there, too.
She downed the rest of her peppermint latte (that tasted like a candy cane) and put her hand on top of mine.
“You’re silly, but I like you anyway. I’ll buy ten copies when your book comes out – no twenty!”
It made have been cold, but the thought of that smile kept me warm all the way home.
Comments
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KarenRadd
Awe this is so cute! I could picture her smile & taste candy cane.🐼️☕🍭
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Thanks! I did a bit of exiting before I posted to fix mistakes and get rid of some pretentious word choice lol.
by Lordking Byron; ; Report
RIP
Omg I love this!!! It made me so happy! :-)
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I used to have a spark lol. I’m so pleased you said that! I’m not very good at short stories.
by Lordking Byron; ; Report
Short stories are hard. I've always found them harder than writing novels. Idk why.
by RIP; ; Report
They have to be just as dense and compelling but without as much space. Every creative writing teacher I’ve ever had was a pretentious ass.
by Lordking Byron; ; Report
ash lynx
"I am her canvas and she is my muse if you will." this was such a beautiful story!!
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Thanks! I'm hoping that posting my older stuff on here and getting fresh eyes on it will inspire me to start writing again - but these days I'm more interested in other creative formats.
by Lordking Byron; ; Report
well you have a way with words for sure! im excited to read more of your work and to follow along with whatever else you create next!
by ash lynx; ; Report
Thanks!!! I’m trying to bounce between fiction, non-fiction, essays, poetry and other creative works.
by Lordking Byron; ; Report