DavidO
03-22-2012, 02:05 PM
This is a short story in response to a random writing prompt that I caught on NPR. The story has to be 600 words or less and begin with the phrase, "She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door."
I'm a novice writer, just writing for practice so I welcome any feedback I can get. Thanks.
Capsule
She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door. The ceiling fan and her frazzled mind were the only objects that spun in the foyer as she passed—but when she stepped out into the night, only one star softened the dark, for she had no twinkle in her soul to match. What lingered in her was cold, like the frost that choked the air, but she chose not to embrace in her shuffle down the sidewalk. Instead she bundled under the warmth of her sweater, and with her fingers she pulled the seams of her pockets tight against her thighs, as though her pants might fall down if she released her grip.
At midnight she entered the back-lot of a Kroger building she’d worked in three years prior. Five minutes later she was rumbling down the interstate in the back seat of a van that smelled of mangos. She was accompanied by two boys in sweaty Kroger uniforms who sat up front, thrashing and gyrating amid the hideous bass sounds that sprung from the stereo and tortured her eardrums. Not until they reached the exit was the volume mercifully turned down.
They pulled into an apartment complex where the boy in the passenger’s seat dismounted. She grabbed his backpack up from beside her feet and passed it forward, along with his spare Kroger shirt and dress shoes. He smiled wryly at her as he reached back to collect them.
“Good seeing you, Caps,” he said. “Catch you later.”
She nodded. He closed the door and the van began to reverse towards the exit.
When they were back on the highway, gliding silently in the dark, the boy in the driver’s seat cocked his head back and caught her eye through the rearview mirror.
“So,” he said. “Caps. How’s college life treating you?”
She stared down glumly at her knees. “Not bad.”
“Glad you finally decided to stop by the store after three years,” he said. “What took so long?”
“This is my first time back home.”
“But your campus is only half an hour away.”
She said nothing.
“So did you just hang out with your old man when you got home?” he said.
“Not really.”
“What did you do then?”
She shrugged. “I sat in the guest room and read a book all day, then I left.”
“Was he not around?”
“He was. He was in the living room watching television.”
“And you didn’t say anything to him?”
“I said ‘hello’.”
The boy whistled in amazement. “Wow,” he said. “Nice to see you haven’t changed.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Still as open as a capsule.”
The suburbs faded and the city drew near. Skyscrapers and remorse gathered on the horizon. The boy glanced back at her reflection intermittently, continuing to chuckle to himself each time he did so, but the two of them shared nothing more for the remainder of the journey.
When they arrived at her dorm she thanked him for the ride and hopped out of the van. The night breathed colder against her as she scurried to her room. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and then she stood frozen, with her eyes shut and her fingers wriggling to stave off the numbness. It was nearly 1 a.m. and for five minutes she planted herself there, in the stillness of her enclosure, drinking the lonely air as if she might collapse the moment she failed to get her fill.
I'm a novice writer, just writing for practice so I welcome any feedback I can get. Thanks.
Capsule
She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door. The ceiling fan and her frazzled mind were the only objects that spun in the foyer as she passed—but when she stepped out into the night, only one star softened the dark, for she had no twinkle in her soul to match. What lingered in her was cold, like the frost that choked the air, but she chose not to embrace in her shuffle down the sidewalk. Instead she bundled under the warmth of her sweater, and with her fingers she pulled the seams of her pockets tight against her thighs, as though her pants might fall down if she released her grip.
At midnight she entered the back-lot of a Kroger building she’d worked in three years prior. Five minutes later she was rumbling down the interstate in the back seat of a van that smelled of mangos. She was accompanied by two boys in sweaty Kroger uniforms who sat up front, thrashing and gyrating amid the hideous bass sounds that sprung from the stereo and tortured her eardrums. Not until they reached the exit was the volume mercifully turned down.
They pulled into an apartment complex where the boy in the passenger’s seat dismounted. She grabbed his backpack up from beside her feet and passed it forward, along with his spare Kroger shirt and dress shoes. He smiled wryly at her as he reached back to collect them.
“Good seeing you, Caps,” he said. “Catch you later.”
She nodded. He closed the door and the van began to reverse towards the exit.
When they were back on the highway, gliding silently in the dark, the boy in the driver’s seat cocked his head back and caught her eye through the rearview mirror.
“So,” he said. “Caps. How’s college life treating you?”
She stared down glumly at her knees. “Not bad.”
“Glad you finally decided to stop by the store after three years,” he said. “What took so long?”
“This is my first time back home.”
“But your campus is only half an hour away.”
She said nothing.
“So did you just hang out with your old man when you got home?” he said.
“Not really.”
“What did you do then?”
She shrugged. “I sat in the guest room and read a book all day, then I left.”
“Was he not around?”
“He was. He was in the living room watching television.”
“And you didn’t say anything to him?”
“I said ‘hello’.”
The boy whistled in amazement. “Wow,” he said. “Nice to see you haven’t changed.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Still as open as a capsule.”
The suburbs faded and the city drew near. Skyscrapers and remorse gathered on the horizon. The boy glanced back at her reflection intermittently, continuing to chuckle to himself each time he did so, but the two of them shared nothing more for the remainder of the journey.
When they arrived at her dorm she thanked him for the ride and hopped out of the van. The night breathed colder against her as she scurried to her room. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and then she stood frozen, with her eyes shut and her fingers wriggling to stave off the numbness. It was nearly 1 a.m. and for five minutes she planted herself there, in the stillness of her enclosure, drinking the lonely air as if she might collapse the moment she failed to get her fill.