I am not one, to participate in such antics as popular culture demands. So I beg all of my readers to forgive my use of the Throwback Thursday reference. I am doing so in protest: but could not think of a better way to introduce a sample of my writing. I am not prepared to present a sample of what I am working on right now... so I thought I would go back in time. To be more specific... High School.
I wanted to give all of you a chance to read some of my writing from High School. As I am writing my Novel, I have been referencing some of my old writings to get back in that mindset.
The excerpt that I have decided to share today is one of several stories that I wrote in a series called About a Boy. Today I will share the short, short story called Swings. I hope that you enjoy reading a sample of my work; I also hope that you keep in mind that I wrote it almost ten years ago. (...at least I hope that my writing has improved since then.)
Swings: by K A Petentler (2004)
A swift night chill moves over the jungle gym. The moon is not present, but the stars cast just enough light to make out movements within the shadows. I lay back in the swing, my long hair gently brushing against the rocky sand bellow me. A swoosh of air, then a squeak of rusted metal rubbing against rusted metal. If not for those sounds, I could almost forget that I am not up there with the stars, that and the wood bar separating the view of the sky as I swing back and forth.
A sharp light invades the darkness, blinding The slam of a door averts my eyes toward it. My eyes start to adjust, I can see movement; a shadow of a person is approaching me. I know, just as the light seems to create a romantic glow across the grass in front of me; that it is Him. The air seems to shift, electric. With each step, his shadow gets closer and the earth seems to bend each blade of grass just right, creating a path of light leading straight to me. The black outline of him moves effortlessly forward. Until he immerges from the light.
His features no longer shrouded by the bright light. He is close, yet he continues to get closer. Until he is in front of me, halting my movements. He is so close that I fear he can hear my heart race. The tension alone was electric; vibrating back and forth between us; betraying.
He slides over to the swing next to mine even though there are four others gently rocking in the breeze. As we both begin to swing higher and higher, we shed all of the constraints and rules that seemed to bind our behavior. All the walls and barriers that seemed to always be in-between us seemed to crumble to earth as we glided towards the stars in perfect harmony. I slide forward, then back. I glide in and out. Until my thoughts can not keep up; all I can do is feel.
I feel daring; and the flirtations burst out; like a shooting star. I do not even question where this new found courage had come from. I glance over; and see that my efforts had been received; and enjoyed. His smile was all I needed to continue. And it seemed that mine; was all the encouragement he needed.
He goes faster, and I go faster. He teases me; and I tease him right back. I do not even have time to wish this night would continue forever; before it ends. Gradually the rush slows; as do the swings; no matter how hard I struggle against it the momentum dissipates. The feelings start to deflate; lowering us both down to the ground; and the walls seemed to rush towards us.
Slower... slower. Back...and...forth. Until the walls crash into me at full speed. The shield can't quite rebuild before the moment disappears. The swings come to a complete halt. He shifts towards me; but I can't make myself look until my shields are completely up. He touches my hand, and I jump off the swing as if lightning has struck it. My feet move out from under me before words of goodbye can be uttered.
Now that feeling never comes. Soaring no longer manumits me from my bonds. The freedom is never meant to be re-experienced. The swing; never lets me fly or soar so high again. Perhaps it would, if only I could, again with Him.
The End... or is it?
I hope you enjoyed a glimpse into my writing past.
K A Petentler