Edith went to the trunk posted at the foot of her bed. She pulled out a piece of fabric that was actually a drab gray plaid blanket that she took from the ship. She laid it out on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles. She was 23 years old back then. Now she was 40 dealing with a similar issue in a different time and place. She wanted to make better use of the blanket so she made a dress.
Edith turned the lackluster fabric into a masterpiece almost like Cinderella going to the ball. She cut and sewed each piece by hand using no pattern, only a memory of the types of dresses she made at the factory. The top of the dress was fitted with long-sleeves, a column of buttons down the front, and a flared skirt with pleats at the bottom. She used an old pillowcase to make the white Peter Pan collar and matching cuffs . She had sewn hundreds of these dresses, but this one was different. It would be special, for a special purpose.
The day arrived for Edith to wear her dress. She was proud and determined to accomplish the task at hand – to march Continue reading ->
Abby woke up with a terrible taste in her mouth, awful smell in her nose, and a headache that could have been deemed an eight on the Richter scale. She still hadn’t opened her eyes. And with what was going on with her other senses, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. But she had to take a peek – at least find out what that retched smell was.
Abby couldn’t believe her eyes. She was lying on a hard bench in a jail cell with five other women she did not know. She could have sworn she was in her apartment. She tried to reach into her hurting head to determine what was real and what had to be a dream. She was hoping her present situation was the latter, but unfortunately it wasn’t.
“Ahhh. Sleeping Beauty finally woke up.”
Abby looked over to see that the person addressing her was a tall, heavy-set woman who seemed mad at the world. Instead of responding Abby turned away.
“What?! You too good to speak?”
Abby still said nothing. Finally the woman walked over to her, and stood in the line of her vision. Abby tried to stare at the wall beside her out of fear and hope that the woman would go away.
“Abby Marlowe!” Abby jumped up from the bench and hurried to the front of the cell. “Let’s go! You’re being released.”
Abby was so thankful for the timing. She didn’t know what was about to happen, and with her luck thus far, it wouldn’t have been good.
After grabbing her belongings and heading towards the precinct exit, she caught sight of a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a wedding gown sitting in the waiting area. It was Agustin and his bride.
“Oh my goodness! What are you doing here?”
“Someone from the bar left a voicemail that you were being taken to jail. We thought we’d help since you were in trouble.”
“I don’t need your help.”
In the most southern of accents, “Well hun, seemed like you did.” Then with an attempt to soften the exchange, “Excuse Agustin’s manners, I’m his new wife, Madelyn. Why don’t we leave and discuss the matter elsewhere.”
“Good idea! I’ll leave, and you two can go elsewhere.” Abby moved swiftly past them and out the door.
Agustin followed with Madelyn closely behind. “C’mon, Abby! I, uh, we just want to make sure you get home safe.” Madelyn shot Agustin a barbed look, but said nothing. Finally he jogged to catch up with Abby, leaving his new wife behind out of earshot. “Abby, please. I still care about you. I couldn’t let you sit in there.”
“You could have sent someone else. Instead, I’m greeted with a man and woman that look like they belong on the top of a cake. I knew it was over Agustin, but I didn’t need the visuals. Besides, how did you convince her to come?”
“It wasn’t easy. And you’re right. I should have sent someone else. But Abby when I heard that message, old feelings kicked in. I knew you needed me and any other reasoning left my brain. It’s wrong, I know.” Agustin paused, looking up at the sky, then back at Abby. “I love my wife and I know I hurt her on the most important day of her life. Madelyn was willing to support me even when she wasn’t happy about it. Can’t you tell?”
“Actually, she seems like she’s trying out for a pageant. Too poised and polite. If the tables were turned, she would have had to just sit in jail. And if you chose to come anyway, we’d be heading to divorce court. Madelyn hasn’t really done anything.”
“I’m not surprised. She’s a patient woman. But I don’t want to put her in a position like this again.”
“You won’t.” Abby started walking back towards Madelyn with Agustin following suit. “Madelyn, thank you for coming to bail me out. I’m so sorry I ruined your special day. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Abby gave a heartfelt smile as she began to walk off.
Madelyn nodded. Agustin took her hand and led her towards the car, “I’m sorry.”
The married couple sat in silence with the only sound coming from the clang of the cans tied to the car bumper hitting against the street. “Just Married” painted on the back glass. Agustin hoped that in the years to come that this moment would be one of those things they could look back and laugh about.
Have you ever had an idea or story that you felt was so unique that nobody else in the world could ever come up with the same thing? And then you see your idea on a store shelf or used as a storyline in a TV show or movie only to feel like somebody had to be looking inside your head. What a bummer?
I keep a notebook for invention ideas and use other tools for story ideas, but I swear someone is peeking sometimes. Sometimes it feels like a “doh!” moment, and other times a near crashing blow. Regardless, I’m pressing on. Eventually something will pan out. 🙂
Has this ever happened to you? How did you feel about it?
Truer words have never been spoken, Millie. Many writers, and I do this as well sometimes, attempt to control the character because we have a set agenda on where the story should go. But like reality, situations and lives can move in directions that we never expect.
This post is very timely for me. Not long ago, I was summarizing the plot of one of my stories to my husband over a plate of lasagne and veggies. In between chewing and swallowing, I laid out the plot while my husband’s eyes and interest grew. Then later that night, I sat down in front of my computer to lay out the synopsis and drew a complete blank. And when I did type something, it sounded bland. A complete contrast from the hype earlier in the evening. So to give my work justice, the tips in this post will be very helpful.
You’ve probably heard of the land of I Can’t. It’s near IwishIhadadone and on the other side of Wouldacouldashoulda. The citizens of I Can’t are known to be frowned up, looking down on the inhabitants of the City of Dreams. They often tell them what they can and can not do, should or should not accomplish. There’s a lot of opinion in I Can’t – and most of it is on the negative side.
I love to watch movies and television. And sometimes I watch something and then find out later that it began as a book. There have been occasions where the story was so good that it prompted me to go out and get the book. One such storyline comes from the television show Resurrection. It is based on the book The Returned by Jason Mott.
I won’t go into much detail to keep from spoiling the show or the book for others. But I will say that the show’s storyline kept me wondering about all the bits and pieces that the book may have went into more detail. What I found out was that the first few episodes of the show pretty much followed the book. Where they differ is that the book gave more insight to a lot more characters and locations whereas the show focused on one area and a set of main characters that are interconnected in one way or another. If I had to choose who did it best, I’d have to go for the show.
Another movie that I have seen and have yet to read the book is Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. As the story unfolded, I felt a range of emotions like anticipation, sympathy, disgust, but the biggest was anger towards the main female character. Because of how the movie drew me in and held my attention, like the paragraph before, it makes me want to read the book. Once I do that, we’ll see who did it best – book or movie.