Post by Sam on Sept 23, 2008 13:35:15 GMT -6
Advanced Fiction Writing
Thomas Averill
September 23, 2008
Sharon Bivens
Attraction
“Hey, I looked your number up in the phone book,” he said, “How are you doing?”
I felt my heart beating in my throat as I answered him, “Well, hey yourself. I am
surprised to hear from you.”
Thomas had stopped by my apartment with another friend of mine, Jerry, only days
before this surprise telephone call. I was attracted to him instantly and I do not know why.
He had friendly eyes and a soft voice. He seemed such a tortured soul, and for some reason
these people are drawn to me like flies and I guess I reciprocate at times.
He asked, “Hey, if you don’t have plans after work today, how about if I stop by your place?
I really need someone to talk too. I will buy a bottle of wine.”
“That would be great. I will meet you at my place about 6: P.M.”, I told him. I admit I was
jazzed about the call all day.
I rushed home, jumped in and out of the shower, changed my clothes three times, perfumed,
and lotioned myself, lightly of course, and was calmly seated when he arrived. He was right on
time and after opening the wine we sat down to visit. Looking back I realize he really just needed
someone to talk at, not too.
“I really messed up my marriage” he told me, “by getting drunk one night and waking up the
next morning in bed with one of my wife’s friends.” He went on to tell me the whole story about
hopping up and getting dressed and dashing home…..just in time to catch the end of the telephone
conversation between his wife and her friend. He didn’t remember what had happened between
them, but he said he just didn’t know what to say, and his wife was furious. Two years had passed
and his wife was still punishing him.
“Do you love your wife?” I asked hm.
“Well, I did. We have been together for twenty years. She has kept me in the dog house for
the last two of those years and honestly I do not know how I feel about her now,” he replied,
He talked on and I listened and I tried every once in a while to respond or offer advice, but
in all honesty I caught myself drinking his wine and letting my mind wonder after a while. He was
in a much better mood when he left and I hoped I had helped him, somehow. I caught myself
feeling sorry for his wife and feeling sorry for him, too.
My sister told me a long time ago, “Sharon, you do not need a man with more problems and
less money than you!” But, sometimes, I can be blind, or stubborn might be a better word.
Time passed. He came by quite frequently, always drinking, always full of talk. It started to get
old, and I caught myself resenting him coming in on me without even calling first anymore.
One day it hit me. He had never asked about me or my life. He had a way of talking over me,
like what I was saying wasn’t that interesting. I noticed my heart wasn’t pumping any more when I
saw him at my door. I finally told him he needed to call me before he showed up at my apartment.
I tried to be nice about it, but I was really getting an attitude by this time. I stopped answering his
calls and my door when I knew it was him. The last time I let him in he was staggering drunk. I
caught myself feeling repulsed by his behavior, and his appearance, and I asked him to leave.
It is funny to me, sometimes, how time changes our feelings, our dreams, our vision. I saw him
yesterday, briefly. He is living with his mother now and he is still looking for work. He was drinking,
and well on his way to his newfound place of happiness. He was telling me about his plans to start a
business, and buy a house, and get a truck and so on, and so on…..
Sam
Thomas Averill
September 23, 2008
Sharon Bivens
Attraction
“Hey, I looked your number up in the phone book,” he said, “How are you doing?”
I felt my heart beating in my throat as I answered him, “Well, hey yourself. I am
surprised to hear from you.”
Thomas had stopped by my apartment with another friend of mine, Jerry, only days
before this surprise telephone call. I was attracted to him instantly and I do not know why.
He had friendly eyes and a soft voice. He seemed such a tortured soul, and for some reason
these people are drawn to me like flies and I guess I reciprocate at times.
He asked, “Hey, if you don’t have plans after work today, how about if I stop by your place?
I really need someone to talk too. I will buy a bottle of wine.”
“That would be great. I will meet you at my place about 6: P.M.”, I told him. I admit I was
jazzed about the call all day.
I rushed home, jumped in and out of the shower, changed my clothes three times, perfumed,
and lotioned myself, lightly of course, and was calmly seated when he arrived. He was right on
time and after opening the wine we sat down to visit. Looking back I realize he really just needed
someone to talk at, not too.
“I really messed up my marriage” he told me, “by getting drunk one night and waking up the
next morning in bed with one of my wife’s friends.” He went on to tell me the whole story about
hopping up and getting dressed and dashing home…..just in time to catch the end of the telephone
conversation between his wife and her friend. He didn’t remember what had happened between
them, but he said he just didn’t know what to say, and his wife was furious. Two years had passed
and his wife was still punishing him.
“Do you love your wife?” I asked hm.
“Well, I did. We have been together for twenty years. She has kept me in the dog house for
the last two of those years and honestly I do not know how I feel about her now,” he replied,
He talked on and I listened and I tried every once in a while to respond or offer advice, but
in all honesty I caught myself drinking his wine and letting my mind wonder after a while. He was
in a much better mood when he left and I hoped I had helped him, somehow. I caught myself
feeling sorry for his wife and feeling sorry for him, too.
My sister told me a long time ago, “Sharon, you do not need a man with more problems and
less money than you!” But, sometimes, I can be blind, or stubborn might be a better word.
Time passed. He came by quite frequently, always drinking, always full of talk. It started to get
old, and I caught myself resenting him coming in on me without even calling first anymore.
One day it hit me. He had never asked about me or my life. He had a way of talking over me,
like what I was saying wasn’t that interesting. I noticed my heart wasn’t pumping any more when I
saw him at my door. I finally told him he needed to call me before he showed up at my apartment.
I tried to be nice about it, but I was really getting an attitude by this time. I stopped answering his
calls and my door when I knew it was him. The last time I let him in he was staggering drunk. I
caught myself feeling repulsed by his behavior, and his appearance, and I asked him to leave.
It is funny to me, sometimes, how time changes our feelings, our dreams, our vision. I saw him
yesterday, briefly. He is living with his mother now and he is still looking for work. He was drinking,
and well on his way to his newfound place of happiness. He was telling me about his plans to start a
business, and buy a house, and get a truck and so on, and so on…..
Sam
