The Sun - Original Writing

“Oh Keerin, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Maggie?” she replied. “I’ve been good, staying busy. How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Give it a rest.” The car rumbled forward, and Rosie turned right then hit the gas.

I sat up in the dining room chair staring at the battered fridge jammed into the corner of the kitchen. It wouldn’t last more than a few weeks in that condition. Another addition to the long list of things we needed repaired. As I played with the ear of my white mug of chamomile tea, I couldn’t help but wonder what my poor husband Willy was going through. While he didn’t realize it, I knew his work was driving him mad. It upset me to see the man I love in such an erratic state. I took a sip of tea and a deep breath. It was a stressful time; soon enough Willy would be laid off and we would have to find another way to earn money.

“Hi sweetie,” she said kissing me on the cheek, then stared at me with a concerned look. “You’re almost four hours late! Where were you?”

That evening Kollins returned home, like everyone else at six. She ran up to her room, and wrote down how perfect everything seemed today. After, she scurried down the stairs, to find a fresh batch of cookies lying on the windowsill to cool. She bounced a cookie around in her hand until she was able to handle the heat. She grabbed a glass of milk and plopped down on the chair, diagonal to where her mother sat. A sheer look of sadness covered her mother’s face. “Kollins, I need to tell you something very important.”

“And don’t worry, I made sure John knew to call one of our wives if he needed anything. Sounds just like a cold starting.”

She was perched in her chair, waiting for the arrival of the post. She glanced out at the deck, where the postman would be standing, just minutes to go. Shakingly, she poured herself a cup of hot tea, all while, glancing out the grubby window nervously. As she brought her cup to her lips, a sharp loud rapping came from the door. She froze, her heart skipping a beat. Hurriedly, she placed her tea-cup on to the place mat and jumped to the door. Ruffling her dress, out of habit, she pulled the door open reluctantly. She found a man standing rigidly, holding a telegram adressed to her. Her stomache dropped. So today was the day.

A sudden burst of worry coursed through the veins in her body at the thought of something happening to her Father. He’ll be fine, she reassured herself, and rested the tip of her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She felt a sensation of cold emitting from the window seep into her body, rippling down her spine as a shiver.

It was silent, so very silent. She could almost hear the swish of her dress against her calves as she walked the paved paths that led off to different places and different people all around her. It had been months since their first meeting; winter had turned to spring, spring to summer, summer to fall, and now it had circled around back to the harsh cold and the onslaught of rain that came around every January once more. Her blonde hair, curled and plastered to the side of her head as was the style in these days was protected from the rain dripping from the sky with a simple black umbrella. Her skin was ghostly pale, and her face cleared of the makeup that was naturally on it, as no classy woman ever left the house until she was all done up these days.

“Jo,” Elle’s eyes were unfocused on Jo. Her stare seemed to penetrate farther beyond the open window in the kitchen, where pastel lemon curtains drifted horizontally in the spring breeze.

“What is it, Bree,” Pairs asked me as she just finished bucking in her seatbelt.

A clear, blue canvas painted the skies, and the sun’s scorching rays were cushioned by white, velvety pillows. Yet he felt neither calmness or warmth, which could only be attained from ‘her’ presence. Cradling a cup of ebony, he stared pitifully at his reflection; his soul was confined by flesh, but his mind was lost in the clouds. “Hey! I’m Mallory. Lovely weather isn’t it?”. He stumbled for a reply, “Yes, yes it is. Would you care for a coffee also?”. She obliged. They conversed; while he asked her about her hobbies, she asked him about his car, occupation, and income. She seemed satisfied with his responses, and he was satisfied that she

Nick steps towards her, “The car won’t start, the engines ruined from the storm.” She looked back over to her neighbors as they approached.

"Well, that 's sweet and all. I 'm fine and thanks for worrying." I implied,

As the sweltering Florida sun scorched upon my pale white skin, I prepared to aim down sights at the tiny blue flagstick fluttering in the distance. My father, in the golf cart hidden under the cool dark shade, reapplied his sunscreen. Unfortunately, I didn 't even need the cart. My ball smacked into a palm tree, nearly taking down a coconut. The ball inched its way a few yards form where I was originally standing. That would 've been right next to the hole! Angered, I stormed after the ball. Focus on your next shot and stay calm. A man on a mission to get the little white ball into the hole, I ignored my dad’s attempt to give me the sunscreen. As a result I suffered through the rest of my vacation with skin peeling off my face and neck.