A Monday Drabble
A Drabble is a story in 100 words. Hadn't done one in some time. So here you go:
Waiting
The party swirls around her, the talk, engagement.
She passes through like a ghost, or an aberration – a distortion in normal line of vision.
She’s cloaked in a shyness her friends all hope she’ll grow out of; hence, the continued invites. She’s aware of their concern, but peripherally. She feels the concern, but just the edges. She’s content to be prickly.
See, there’s a boy she’s waiting for, someone she’s always pictured - readied herself for that moment.
And at this minute, that boy is looking out the window, gazing at the city lights, nervously plucking at his sleeves.
Waiting
The party swirls around her, the talk, engagement.
She passes through like a ghost, or an aberration – a distortion in normal line of vision.
She’s cloaked in a shyness her friends all hope she’ll grow out of; hence, the continued invites. She’s aware of their concern, but peripherally. She feels the concern, but just the edges. She’s content to be prickly.
See, there’s a boy she’s waiting for, someone she’s always pictured - readied herself for that moment.
And at this minute, that boy is looking out the window, gazing at the city lights, nervously plucking at his sleeves.
Comments
You are very good at this flash fiction stuff.
I can completely imagine the girl, the party, the crowd of faceless (to me) friends, and the boy; your writing reminds me of calligraphic paintings where sparse lines create whole worlds.
missalister