The song spoke to me as it reminded me of how of I don't feel like I fit into any given lifestyle, or group, and feel like I sit out on the edge. And this is how it translated into a story. it also spoke to many others, and the MWBB had one of it's largest turnouts with 12 entries, thus I didn't make it into the top 3 this week, but here's my story anyway.
The prompt song this week was:
Suzanne Vega
- Left of Center
“Come out with me tonight.” He whispered in her ear.
“You don’t need me to.”
“Need, no, but want, yes.” Greg tugged at her arm, bringing
it across his torso as they lay there on their backs staring at the ceiling.
He’d come by earlier in the day, catching her on one of her
rare days in town and taken full advantage of her. It was something they did.
It was something they couldn’t resist doing.
“I’ve got stuff to do.”
He scoffed. “You’ve always got stuff to do. Please. Come.”
She peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. He was
staring back earnestly. She sighed. He smiled and kissed her hand.
That evening Kate tugged at the little chiffon dress she’d
put on as she stared at herself in the full length mirror. It didn’t feel
right. She fiddled with her hair for the second time. It didn’t sit right. But
she knew it wasn’t her clothes or her hair.
When she reached the bar she braced herself before entering,
ready for the melee within, fixing a smile on her face. He spotted her right
away. He’d been watching the door, waiting for her and she knew it.
The usual crowd was with him, a mixture of couples and
singles. She behaved herself and showed interest and for a moment enjoyed being
there, being with him, a part of something, sharing time and space, but then
someone cracked a joke that only they knew about, and something got lost in the
translation making it fall flat. He squeezed her leg. She smiled wishing they
could go now.
But they didn’t. Two more hours of drinks and as the alcohol
took affect she caught herself watching him, and watching them respond to him
and how they all responded to each other, having known each other all their
lives. There was some kind of comfort in being able to see their closeness as a
group, but it left her feeling empty inside. Part of her wished for it, and
part of her was glad she’d never experienced it.
When it was time to go, he didn’t hesitate in taking her
hand, treating her as though they had always been one, always been together and
she liked it. And as they staggered back to her apartment she wished she could
enjoy this feeling every day.
But come morning, while watching him get dressed she thought
about the packing she needed to do for her next trip, and although she enjoyed
the lengthy goodbye kiss, she was relieved when the front door behind him and
she could think again about the next place she needed to be, and the next thing
she needed to do, without the distraction of belonging.
She would belong to him again in a couple of weeks, and that
was enough for her.
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