Running on empty
May 5th 2008 12:30
Write a blog entry that ends with the line:
"And then I ran out of words."
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Hi! My name is Toni and this is my blog on writing prompts. Sometimes inspiration strikes me anywhere, sometimes I badly need a jumpstart. This blog helps with those jumpstarts, when you need a little push. Hopefully the writing prompts open your mind further to new ideas and help encourage you into writing more. A little writing help never hurt!
Write a blog entry that ends with the line:
"And then I ran out of words."
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Comment by Mia
I'm not whether I was surprised, disappointed or relieved when the security guards appeared nonplussed about my attire. It was, after all, a pretty nice nightie. Fashionable enough, perhaps, to pass as a dress. Or maybe it was the old, hastily thrown-on cardi that threw them. In any case, I made it through.
As I made my approach, I was sure to hold my head high. I was coming good on my threat, for better or for worse. I'd delivered my ultimatum and he'd made his choice. I couldn't back down; not if I wanted to be taken seriously. Tough love. I had to deliver.
Inside, however, I was crying uncontrollably.
Anti-climax, unless you count my outrage. I couldn't recall having ever stepped outside my house in my bedclothes before, not since childhood, and yet here I was, quivering beneath the rayon in the most hostile of air conditioning. He barely batted an eyelid. He played another two rounds- not just another two hands, another two rounds. There were seven players. I stood behind him and watched. For about twenty minutes. In my nightie. Freezing. Shaking with fire and ice.
Once we'd left the building, I couldn't control my fury. I felt I had to say something. Had to yell it. Normally, I keep a tight lid on the volume of my voice. I try to be reasonable, to remain calm, to play psychological games to my advantage. But this time was different. I felt completely humiliated.
How could you? I spat. How could you let me stand there for so long? Have you no care? No consideration, no respect? I was expecting you hours ago. I've been waiting all night for you. We're supposed to go to my friend's house for lunch tomorrow. We have to get up in four and a half hours. What kind of way is this to treat your girlfriend?
I hated the sound of my voice, the anger, most of all the helplessness behind it. He, on the other hand, had nothing to say. If he felt any remorse, he didn't exhibit the usual signs. He seemed casual, somewhat embarrassed, somewhat exasperated. Bored even. I couldn't tell if it was because he really wanted out of this relationship (which he denied, as usual) or if it was a latent sense of shame and submission to the overriding gambling problem. Poker had taken over. The casino was his all-dominating mistress and she was ruining my life. Or so I thought, for a brief moment.
I looked at him in despair one last time before turning the key in the ignition. We bickered about my poor parking ability. And then I ran out of words.
Comment by Meeya
~~~
Talk to me. I said to her.
Whatever it is, you have to tell me. You can tell me. I promise I will not yell at you, or make faces. We’re really good friends, right? I will appear shocked if I have to. Do you want me to grovel? Do I have to grovel? How about I get you some ice cream? You know I can wait forever. Well, maybe just until Monday because I have a meeting with my boss and you know how he is when I make excuses not to report for work. Not that being with you is an excuse or anything. Ok, so I’ll meet him on Tuesday, no big deal. I’m sorry, I think the coffee was too strong. Or you’re just really being unbearably quiet. You know, you can tell me, whatever it is. Just please, tell me. Because if you don’t, I’m calling your mom and she’ll…
Shut up. She says. Bathroom. Now! Lord, I hate tacos.
And then I ran out of words.
Comment by tlcorbin
Raven