In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence.
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http://writeworld.tumblr.com/post/89157157375/the-closest-i-will-ever-get-to-you-is-scrawling-your
The bandage itched and the area underneath
it felt sore and tender. He kept touching it; pressing against it as if to
remind himself that it was there.
He did it again; his eyes closed
in something close to ecstasy.
When he opened them she was
standing in front of him. “Hey.” His voice managed not to squeak.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Her solicitous look nearly
unnerved him.
“I’m... fine.”
She glanced at his hand where it
pressed over his heart. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Her head tilted. “Really? ‘Cause
you look like you are having a heart attack.”
A nervous laugh escaped him. “My
heart is fine,” he assured her. If by ‘fine’ you meant it started beating
faster whenever she was around. If by ‘fine’ you meant his heart belonged to
her. And she didn’t know. He had never told her.
It must have been the way he
looked at her that gave him away because suddenly she put her hands on him. She
lifted his shirt.
And his secret was exposed.
She stared at the tattoo under the
cling wrap cover.
“What is this?” she asked in a low
voice.
He couldn’t answer her.
She tried again, “That... that’s
my name.”
God... as if he didn’t know that.
He had it marked on his skin with a heart. He could only nod.
“My name,” she repeated. “But I
don’t think of you like that.”
“I know-”
She looked guilty.
“-and that’s okay,” he continued.
“The closest I will ever get to you is scrawling your name onto my skin.”
And the day he got it done... she
had touched him.
~~~~
© AM Gray 2014
Kid 2 tells me this is super
creepy…
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