Something Different

So You Think You Can Write - Week 1

Here is my short story for the first week .

Theme - St. Patrick's Day

Sub-Theme - Romance

Last Date - 22/03/2013

Date Of Writing - 22/03/2013

Number of Pages - 3

Title - Hope

The wispy aroma of the pancakes being baked and cakes being iced flowed through the air and skirted past my nose, leaving behind a obligatory hunger in my mouth.  Pedestrians with dogs and young married couple with children flowed past me like a river, while I sat in between them like a humongous boulder, neither participating in the present world nor living in my own. The buzz of humming bee’s and the fall of reddish-brown dried leaves signified the beginning of March.

'But the public activity seemed a bit extra today', I mused.

Sitting in front of the ‘Hot and Cold Cafe’ I was always able to observe my best friend Catty serving the customers as well as flirting with any handsome boys. But today, even she seemed a bit hectic in her work.

What was the day?, I pondered again.

 A second glance at the park told me that it was more full than usual; the swings had a huge waiting list as well as the Merry-go-rounds. From the florist shop just outside the exit, people where purchasing dozens of bouquets of nearly every flower and variety.

Suddenly, a loud commotion nearby grabbed my attention. A boy, very near my age was trying to control his huge German shepherd. The dog, so not wanting to be in control tried pulling free of him. It pushed and pulled all the way around, causing the boy to stagger in his footsteps. After one mighty push, the boy fell down into the muddy ditch and the dog ran away, seeming to know its place of destination.

Turning back, I saw the boy trying to get up from the ditch. People, who were passing by, stood laughing and smiling watching the event but none were ready to help him. Feeling sorry, I went out to near him to give him my hand. The poor boy blushed red though it was not visible in the dark brown muddy layer covering his face, causing the first grin in ages to come over my face.

Wanting to remove his embarrassment, I gave him my hands saying ‘Had enough fun?’  He gave a shaky laugh and took my hands.

‘Nope’ he muttered, ‘I’ll have most fun when I do this!’ and pushed me head first into the ditch. I came up, spluttering for air only to see him rolling on the floor laughing, very very literally.

The positions were reversed this time, for I was the one needing a hand. Instead of giving me his hands, he pulled him out of the ditch by my waist, causing me to soil his already dirty designer shirts. Once we both were fully out, I blurted out a quick ‘Thanks’ and moved back to my usual position outside the café, sitting down on the lemon green grass.

The smell of sweet honeysuckle filled me, causing my mind to go back in time.

My mom has been an especially good cook. Her pancakes were always tasty and her waffles crispy. Everyday, I had come home to find something special made only for my sake. Be it the raspberry jam or her special chocolate cookies, they never failed to raise my appetite. In fact for quite some time, I had been known as the ‘Crunchy Munchy’ of my family. The key word being ‘had been’. The reason was because my mom was diagnosed by malignant lung cancer three years back.

 A light tap at my back brought me to the present. I turned around to see the same boy, grinned widely at me. He put out his hands for a shake. I looked up at him with my wide brown eyes, saying ‘Isn’t it a bit too late for introductions?’ but gave him my hands anyway.