Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Fun With Fiction!

As part of Mrs. Chicken's Mother of All Memes, I am continuing on the fictional foray that began today at her blog. She started the story. I will add to it. When I am done with my contribution, I will tag someone else from a predetermined list of willing pawns (see below). If you would like to be added to the list, I suggest you ingratiate yourself over at Chicken and Cheese, because I've got nothing to do with organizing this thing. I just work here.

Now, without further ado. . .

I thought I saw him at the grocery store. It was raining that afternoon, and he had an umbrella. The red and white triangles that made up his portable shelter partly obscured his face, but I caught a glimpse of his eyes. Those eyes. Huge, blue and empty.

When he left me I remember searching their vast cerulean expanse for some sign, some flicker of love. It rained that day, too. Why does it rain when you lose someone you love? My tears left him unmoved. I don’t know why that surprised me.

The baby kicked in my cart and I let my gaze fall on her face. Her father’s eyes stared back at me. Green eyes, warm and full of life.“Mamma?” she said. “Mamma!”

The question-turned-exclamation jarred me out of my reverie. There was pressure in my temples and behind the hazel tint of my colored contact lenses. "Mamma's here," I cooed. My voice was a manufactured kind of soothing. I leaned in and brushed a kiss over Bethany's forehead, where a drop of rainwater hung like the tiniest Swarovski pendant. Its chain was made of fine blond locks.

"What do you think, baby girl?" I asked as I pulled her into my arms. "Is it time to go home?" Her searching legs and center of gravity found all the right contours as she settled atop the jut of my hip. I tugged at her coat until the hood framed her face, then I stepped into the rain. A small deluge of water streamed off the curve of the lowercase "o" on the Save-A-Lot sign and landed at the back of my neck. I could feel the tag from my shirt sticking sharp and soggy to my skin.

I sighed against Bethany's face and tried to avoid the bigger puddles on our way to my twenty year old Civic, which was miraculously close. One row over and three cars ahead, I saw a familiar red and white umbrella spanning the gap between an open door and the driver's seat of a rusty 4Runner that had to be as old as my own piece of junk. They guy I'd mistaken for Paul sat sideways and watched the rain as he talked into a cell phone.

I tag Creative Type Dad since a little male perspective just might do this story good.

Participants List:
Occidental Girl
Mrs. Maladjusted
Desitin's Child
Tater And Tot
Word Girl


Mrs. Chicken said...

Whoo Hoo! Off to a great start! You rock.

jen said...

i like this. i really like this.

if i wasn't so swamped with wedding plans, i'd beg to be tossed into the mix. this way, though, i get to watch it all unfold.

cry it out! said...

Nice mood. Although "small deluge" seems like an oxymoron. But don't we all? I like it!

Jenifer said...

You people make me so jealous! I would participate but alas, I am no writer, I would butcher the awesome start!!

T. said...

I'm loving it so far. Can't wait to see what Tony does next...

creative-type dad said...

Ahh, my turn---

Ninja's with glowing eyes should be appearing soon. Maybe.

I'll post later-

Lauren said...

A very merry unbirthday to you Binky. Nice post. :)

Jen said...

you way with words is amazing, I could read on and on forever.

Damselfly said...

How fun! Great addition to the story. My family used to do something similar, on paper, and we called it fictionary.

Tater and Tot said...

Well done! This is going to be so fun!