Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Part 4

On the way into work that morning she indulged and splurged for a white chocolate peppermint mocha. As soon as she delicately received it in through her car window from the drive through attendant's hands the car filled instantly with a calming aroma that soothed her nerves and excitement before she had to occupy her normal parking space at work. Once her car assumed its normal position among the others, she turned the key out of the ignition, gathered her purse that her sister gave her on her 21st birthday and cupped her hand just above the steam rising from the strategically cut hole on the plastic top that fit snug on the rim of her mocha and waved the sweet scent of peppermint into her lungs like it was her final breath. About to get out of the car she paused and before placing her left hand on delicate silver handle to open the car door she raised it to eye level and gazed wonderstruck by the ring’s exquisiteness and its reality.

Slow-motion like she shuts the door to the car and she imagines the red carpet leading her to the front of the building with all of her friends and office girls shoving microphones in her face asking questions with poofs and burst of light flash.

1 comment:

  1. OK - what Survivor-induced reality trip are you on my friend? This story sounds utterly made up. But then, if that is your intention, maybe I have missed the point of your blog.....

    Please tell me I pray thee just this once...are we the faithful readers of your blog doomed to the consolation, no matter how bitter, that the final recompense of our eyes will only be disappointment, in the leasteth manner? Or shall we awaken on the new dawn to find that this poor soul hath not drunk her peppermint mocha latte grande double espresso in vain, but rather that she have not loved and lost, but rather she hath loved her truest Romeo? Please, kind sir, end the suspense, or I shallest be forced to exile this blogfest of your hand to the binary scrap heap. And quite honestly, it's a bit racy at that. (P.S. If Julie is writing this story and not Craig - ignore all my previous comments and answer 1 question - are we getting somewhere with this story????)

    another Shakespeare dropout

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