Listening to each other tell the stories that we weave is always a delight. We meet on the first Friday of the month from September through June. We usually assign, to each other, the same topic to write about and bring to the group. Following the incredible and very creative variety of readings (aloud), our host provides us with another exercise. Always timed and seldom the same topic, we are each caught by surprise and our muse has to hurry up and get our pens moving. This Friday, we drew slips of paper from a beautiful blue and white ceramic bowl containing slips of paper with the stem of a sentence or a sentence to write about. Groans went simultaneously through the room. My challenging sentence was: “You’ll wish you never asked me that.” There was nothing. I was blank. So, I just started my pen moving, the strategy for each of us. We were only given about two minutes before the timer said: ‘Go!’
Untitled Dialogue (unedited)
“You’ll wish you never asked me that.”
“Why.”
“Because I’ll have to say no. Not a tiny 'no', but a very large and emphatic ‘No.’”
“Why?”
“Because I said so and I’m your mom.”
“But you’re not the only boss of me. I’ll wait til Dad comes home.”
“You won’t be up that late, honey. You’ve got school tomorrow and Dad won’t be home until midnight. You’ll be asleep by then.”
Stamping my feet and slamming out the back door, I knew she was right. But I was really, really mad. I couldn’t see why I couldn’t go to the Game of Thrones movies. My mom thought they were too violent. I’ll show her violence. I kicked the basketball all across the yard and then punched the top of the trampoline. When I did that I just didn’t feel any better at all so I sat down and with my fist under my chin, I cried. Maybe I didn’t even want to go to those movies anyway. Dad would never give me enough money for a movie and popcorn and coke and candy. So there really wasn’t much point. Just then my old dog came over to me and licked my face all over, making me laugh. We lay down on the grass together and watched shooting stars and a crescent moon. Maybe mom would make me some popcorn.”
“Start writing, no matter what. The water
does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”
~ Louis L'Amour
p.s. A pretty lame ending but time was running out. An old dog and a nighttime sky just appeared out of nowhere.
Author's note: Edited April 5, 2024
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