Trifecta: Intentions

This could actually be a true story if I actually did this. I am going to this event. If you're in Chicago, you could go too. And for all you fiction writers out there, there’s still time to submit your story for the Nelson Algren Literary Award for short stories. Somebody has to win, right?

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It was like standing in the center of a souvenir snow globe of Michigan Avenue, as if someone turned the entire city of Chicago upside down and gently shook. The snow fell like tiny, soft, feathery flakes lightly blanketing everything it touched including her. It was a beautiful evening. 

She pulled up her hood.

As one of the remaining patrons still outside, she had the “good” kind of nerves. Maybe it was called “nervous with anticipation”. She wasn’t sure, didn't really care, but anyone watching closely would recognize her fidgeting.

She had just two tickets.

It was her intention to invite both to the event she so passionately wished to attend thinking each would love it as much as her. Plus, she didn’t want to go alone or with someone who’d simply “put up” with it on her account.

So she emailed an off-handed invitation, providing them plenty of notice. She worded it so casually. So nonchalant. No pressure. They both said they planned to try.

Hedging bets came naturally to her.

Why these two?

Because she was forever drawn to people with whom she “strongly suspected” she’d have a deep connection. These two melded with her on many levels. Reading, writing, intelligent and passionate conversation were alluring to all three. She knew that about them.

She told herself she’d be equally excited whoever walked down the street. Mentally preparing for one, more likely, due to proximity because the other, she thought, required much more effort and finesse.

And they couldn’t be more different.

One was a woman. One was a man.

She didn’t know either well. Okay. Not at all really. In fact, she had never met either in person. She just desired to.

Grasping at diminishing confidence, she thought, “What if they both came?”

Then, "Or neither?"

“Breathe.”

Gazing in the opposite direction, she heard a tentative, “Hello?”

Breaking into her widest smile,

“I’m so happy it’s you!”

“What do you mean “you”?

“I’m so happy to finally see you.”

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33-333 words for:

INTENTION (noun)

1: a determination to act in a certain way : resolve

2: import, significance

3a : what one intends to do or bring about

  b : the object for which a prayer, mass, or pious act is offered

BLUE and Missing You

33-333 words for:

BLUE: (adjective)

3. a: low in spirits: melancholy

    b: marked by low spirits: depressing<a blue funk> <things looked blue>

Something silly or stupid would happen almost every single day and I'd think of you. I'd pick up the phone to dial your number so I could laugh…with you… until our sides hurt like they always did. Knowing you would crack up, too, even while I struggled to get the words out because I was giggling so hard. Because you're silly just like me so you’d get it. 

I’d run into that certain acquaintance of ours, and quickly insert foot directly in mouth. So typical. You're the one I'd text because you always say, “That wasn’t so bad, really (slightly cringing inside). I’d give you a hug if I was with you.”

I’d see Like Crazy or Somewhere In Time or read a love story I knew we’d both like; and immediately, eyes still filled with tears, I’d think to shoot off an email and ask if you saw the same ones, read the same book. “What did you think? Did you love it, too? What are you reading now?” and know your reply would take no time at all.

I’d sit down to write you a letter like we used to love to do and do so often. Then check the mail basket the very next day in anticipation of your written reply even though it wouldn’t arrive for one week. The waiting would be excruciating but oh so, worth it. It would be the second best part after your words.

Sitting, something touching, whispering, anytime we were together.

I still want to do all these things, all the time. 

Then I’d remember. 

I can’t do any of these things because we don’t do any of them anymore. Sometimes I forget even why.

But I do know exactly why we don't do any of these things anymore and it breaks my heart all over again.

Today, when I wanted to tell you something, I remembered again that I couldn’t and all I felt was blue. I suppose I’m making some progress.

Trifecta Writing Challenge