Biefall
07-08-2010, 03:18 PM
(short story made today, please comment so every flaw can be polished!)
The summer was ending the very same way it started, with clouds covering the sky and a strange sensation of unexplainable cold that only he felt, or at least that was what he thought.
“Everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to”, those were his brother’s words all his lifetime and they never were more appropriate than in the very same moment he got out of the plane.
Elliot was just weeks away from delivering the finishing pages to his publisher and complete a contract. His very first novel and possible (according to many) hit in the local stores. But he needed one more thing before getting back into his writing, one last look into what made him what he was today, the woman who inspired, taught and gave him everything before she left to find better skies.
His book was a pretty regular was a love story, and very easy to write actually. It was filled with many of his memories, quotes from past lovers and dreamscapes he fantasized that matched perfectly into a twirl of love, hate, deception, victory and sadness with a possible sad ending. He could only write sad endings because those were the only ones he knew, his life was full of them and Ellen Everlong was the most important one.
After his arrival everything, his eyes noticed everything was the same. The same standing buildings almost too close to each other, the same patches of green grass dividing them… but his eyes looked the panorama through a scratched and twisted glass, nothing shinned now.
He remained in front of the door, lock, stock and armed with a bouquet of roses. He was ready to trample through doors and while lacking keys he would use cups of coffee to open locked chests. Then his mind dwelling before going further, remembering everything that was, “was” was the keyword.
Ellen Everlong was her name, her fake name to be honest. Child born in a broken marriage that lead to a single mother to raise two daughter through hardships and misadventures, events that changed the life of that small girl with long and light brown hair. A child with a lack of a father, a lack of love, a child who stopped believing in it even before she stopped believing in the man of the red suit that visits one time a year during winter.
Ellen Everlong was a true woman, or at least according to her own concept of what a true woman has to be. Fluent in many known languages, wise in many topics; she was the always aiming sky high, destined to be great as long as her eyes were focused on what she craved.
Ellen Everlong needed no one, as far as is known she can only needs stair steps. Desired by man because of her godly beauty and ancient like knowledge, envied by woman because of her looks and her achievements. She who fought daily wars against hatred born by jealousy, who got her heart broken by the first man she gave her heart.
Ellen Everlong had everything that was needed to succeed, if a stone cold heart and an unbreakable will was all needed to reached to top. Her strange ways kept her locked from the outside world, there was no need to it.
Ellen Everlong was still all that, if Elliot didn’t came in her scene.
Their story started unexpectedly with a French greeting, “Bonsoir”, it was the magic word that sparked the interest in her eyes for the man who brought back all the illusions into her world. The man in question was a romantic, one of those endangered species that still believe in true love and everlasting happiness, one who made the guitar cry and whispered stories into her ear, the only one that could unfreeze her heart for the second time.
He was the man who gave everything, he was all what a lonely heart could ever ask for.
Both making promises and plans, adjusting each life to the other like puzzle pieces from different horizons but that complemented perfectly like a poetic paradox. But his desires for a humble life filling with love, art and lyrics were a contrast for her dreams of wealth, work and loneliness, both ideologies created a tornado of principles that eventually led to the foreseen future.
Their story ended with the same way it started, unexpected. When she realized her dreams and goals were put aside in the pursue of love, a fake concept in her eyes and needed to be forgotten again. She said goodbye and remembered who she really was, how strong she was and the path she had chosen in both past and present.
Ellen Everlong again, how she was supposed to be from start.
The first step is always the hardest, like skydiving without parachute or a mattress, that’s how pressing the ringer with his index was. The small electric discharge already traveled and reached the top of the building, there was nothing left to do but wait. Then Elliot realized that after more than seven hundred night he wasn’t ready to face her and probably never will. But it was too late.
She came down finally and they both exchanged timid and skeptic, palpating the surrounds, like kids who are just starting to walk. Elliot was waiting for her eyes to change, to look at him the same way they did in the past, he searched deep down trying to solve the mystery in them, but the answer was nowhere to be found.
The roses were delivered with nothing more than a greeting and a compliment before both walked with a small chat toward the restaurant. The warm coffee laid in their hands while their restless eyes were shuffling from one place to another.
He wanted to confess anything, to shout out the same things he did in the solitude of his bedroom during the night, all his achievements, all his goals, everything accomplished in her absence, all what he had become, how much of a better man he now was. But he knew looking at her eyes that nothing he could say could ever touch her again, her ears and heart were separated by an infinite breach. So rapt in another planes, in another thoughts, that even if she listened to the wonders of his life and actions, with just an outline of her smile and a condescending gesture she would minimize everything, like taking the shine out with mold.
By saying good bye in French , “Bonne nuit”, he hoped something inside of her could be touched before leaving, it did nothing.
Elliot stole one last kiss with the excuse it would be the one.
With the most slowness in the world he walked out of the place, letting the time go ahead of his race, faking his eyes were watching the sky and hoping something would happen. Elliot had promised in the past he would look back more than twice, he had taught himself to obey his own laws no matter what, so he looked over his shoulder to see if the door opened but nothing happened.
First chance
He started walking toward the bust stop still pretending nothing was happening inside of him, pretending everything well as planned, pretending he didn’t expect anything rather than a “hello”. He stopped next to the sign, close to the bushes with is eyes still fixed In the clouds, hoping. He looked once again to find nothing behind him. He burned his last chance has quick as a cigarette. Elliot felt the urge for one even if haven’t smoked in his entire life, not even the greatest **** nor the fanciest delicacy ever provoked that on him.
The bus came and so did the rain. In the back of his mind he remembered a song from his dad’s time, one he used to sing all the time, mostly the chorus “ Have you ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day?…” that’s exactly how his soul felt.
Elliot stole one last kiss with the excuse it would be the last one, it truly was.
Before taking the plane back home again he chose not to finish his story, the world would read it and the world would cry, the seas would over flow with tears and nothing at all would even reach her and wet her hear. So distant, so dry.
Ellen Everlong, the woman that was and is, that gave and took, that healed and hurt. The one who inspired a man to change the world and made him lose his hopes.
The summer was ending the very same way it started, with clouds covering the sky and a strange sensation of unexplainable cold that only he felt, or at least that was what he thought.
“Everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to”, those were his brother’s words all his lifetime and they never were more appropriate than in the very same moment he got out of the plane.
Elliot was just weeks away from delivering the finishing pages to his publisher and complete a contract. His very first novel and possible (according to many) hit in the local stores. But he needed one more thing before getting back into his writing, one last look into what made him what he was today, the woman who inspired, taught and gave him everything before she left to find better skies.
His book was a pretty regular was a love story, and very easy to write actually. It was filled with many of his memories, quotes from past lovers and dreamscapes he fantasized that matched perfectly into a twirl of love, hate, deception, victory and sadness with a possible sad ending. He could only write sad endings because those were the only ones he knew, his life was full of them and Ellen Everlong was the most important one.
After his arrival everything, his eyes noticed everything was the same. The same standing buildings almost too close to each other, the same patches of green grass dividing them… but his eyes looked the panorama through a scratched and twisted glass, nothing shinned now.
He remained in front of the door, lock, stock and armed with a bouquet of roses. He was ready to trample through doors and while lacking keys he would use cups of coffee to open locked chests. Then his mind dwelling before going further, remembering everything that was, “was” was the keyword.
Ellen Everlong was her name, her fake name to be honest. Child born in a broken marriage that lead to a single mother to raise two daughter through hardships and misadventures, events that changed the life of that small girl with long and light brown hair. A child with a lack of a father, a lack of love, a child who stopped believing in it even before she stopped believing in the man of the red suit that visits one time a year during winter.
Ellen Everlong was a true woman, or at least according to her own concept of what a true woman has to be. Fluent in many known languages, wise in many topics; she was the always aiming sky high, destined to be great as long as her eyes were focused on what she craved.
Ellen Everlong needed no one, as far as is known she can only needs stair steps. Desired by man because of her godly beauty and ancient like knowledge, envied by woman because of her looks and her achievements. She who fought daily wars against hatred born by jealousy, who got her heart broken by the first man she gave her heart.
Ellen Everlong had everything that was needed to succeed, if a stone cold heart and an unbreakable will was all needed to reached to top. Her strange ways kept her locked from the outside world, there was no need to it.
Ellen Everlong was still all that, if Elliot didn’t came in her scene.
Their story started unexpectedly with a French greeting, “Bonsoir”, it was the magic word that sparked the interest in her eyes for the man who brought back all the illusions into her world. The man in question was a romantic, one of those endangered species that still believe in true love and everlasting happiness, one who made the guitar cry and whispered stories into her ear, the only one that could unfreeze her heart for the second time.
He was the man who gave everything, he was all what a lonely heart could ever ask for.
Both making promises and plans, adjusting each life to the other like puzzle pieces from different horizons but that complemented perfectly like a poetic paradox. But his desires for a humble life filling with love, art and lyrics were a contrast for her dreams of wealth, work and loneliness, both ideologies created a tornado of principles that eventually led to the foreseen future.
Their story ended with the same way it started, unexpected. When she realized her dreams and goals were put aside in the pursue of love, a fake concept in her eyes and needed to be forgotten again. She said goodbye and remembered who she really was, how strong she was and the path she had chosen in both past and present.
Ellen Everlong again, how she was supposed to be from start.
The first step is always the hardest, like skydiving without parachute or a mattress, that’s how pressing the ringer with his index was. The small electric discharge already traveled and reached the top of the building, there was nothing left to do but wait. Then Elliot realized that after more than seven hundred night he wasn’t ready to face her and probably never will. But it was too late.
She came down finally and they both exchanged timid and skeptic, palpating the surrounds, like kids who are just starting to walk. Elliot was waiting for her eyes to change, to look at him the same way they did in the past, he searched deep down trying to solve the mystery in them, but the answer was nowhere to be found.
The roses were delivered with nothing more than a greeting and a compliment before both walked with a small chat toward the restaurant. The warm coffee laid in their hands while their restless eyes were shuffling from one place to another.
He wanted to confess anything, to shout out the same things he did in the solitude of his bedroom during the night, all his achievements, all his goals, everything accomplished in her absence, all what he had become, how much of a better man he now was. But he knew looking at her eyes that nothing he could say could ever touch her again, her ears and heart were separated by an infinite breach. So rapt in another planes, in another thoughts, that even if she listened to the wonders of his life and actions, with just an outline of her smile and a condescending gesture she would minimize everything, like taking the shine out with mold.
By saying good bye in French , “Bonne nuit”, he hoped something inside of her could be touched before leaving, it did nothing.
Elliot stole one last kiss with the excuse it would be the one.
With the most slowness in the world he walked out of the place, letting the time go ahead of his race, faking his eyes were watching the sky and hoping something would happen. Elliot had promised in the past he would look back more than twice, he had taught himself to obey his own laws no matter what, so he looked over his shoulder to see if the door opened but nothing happened.
First chance
He started walking toward the bust stop still pretending nothing was happening inside of him, pretending everything well as planned, pretending he didn’t expect anything rather than a “hello”. He stopped next to the sign, close to the bushes with is eyes still fixed In the clouds, hoping. He looked once again to find nothing behind him. He burned his last chance has quick as a cigarette. Elliot felt the urge for one even if haven’t smoked in his entire life, not even the greatest **** nor the fanciest delicacy ever provoked that on him.
The bus came and so did the rain. In the back of his mind he remembered a song from his dad’s time, one he used to sing all the time, mostly the chorus “ Have you ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day?…” that’s exactly how his soul felt.
Elliot stole one last kiss with the excuse it would be the last one, it truly was.
Before taking the plane back home again he chose not to finish his story, the world would read it and the world would cry, the seas would over flow with tears and nothing at all would even reach her and wet her hear. So distant, so dry.
Ellen Everlong, the woman that was and is, that gave and took, that healed and hurt. The one who inspired a man to change the world and made him lose his hopes.