Just a Violet Eden thing

15-Minutes Writing Practice (1)

Started on an amazing exercise (thewritepractice.com) to flex my creative-writing muscles! LOL, they have been a bit under the weather. 

Aim: Write about something random, unprompted.

Deadline: 15 minutes

Result: Non-stop Nonsense. (As follows)

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"...he is so good to me, Amy, so good. I am sure I love him, I really am sure. I know it. He was giving me the look during our date! Can you imagine that? On our first date! Obviously, I was over the moon when I realized he loves me too..."

Believe me, I really tried not to yawn. I even pressed my lips together but the loud yawn was so stubborn that it got out. I couldn't help it!

"Seriously Amy, don't fall asleep on me! You haven't heard the best part yet!"

For the love of Bird. I cannot handle this love-talk in the middle of the night!

Before Shamaila could begin cooing the second round, I interrupted her after another unstoppable yawn. "Shammi, dear, there's always tomorrow. You know, it's 2 a.m. and some of us are usually asleep at this time so..." Grappling for some sweetness to make up for my rude behavior,  I suggested. "How about grabbing some brunch tomorrow? Meet you at Holly's? 12?"

Offended at my attitude, Shamaila begrudgingly agreed to it but not prior to gushing about how her new conquest was a thorough gentleman. "He opened doors for me and let me in first at the restaurant!"

"Cool!" I exclaimed a bit loudly, jumping in with an abrupt "Goodnight!".

I almost hung up with a sleepy hells-yeah when I heard Shamaila screaming from her end. Argh!

"What? What is it?" I could hardly keep my eyes open! They found the clock above the television stand.

2.30 a.m.

Shamaila had a death wish.

"Have you ever been loved?"

The next morning, on waking up, I surveyed the remnants of my smartphone which had crashed into a hundred pieces on my bedroom floor. Last night's conversation came flooding back. How I fell asleep hugging my husband's framed-photograph to my chest on a tear-soaked pillow.

Some questions cannot be answered, can they? 

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©AmaliaAbbar07092018