Posts tagged with “fiction Friday”
Fiction Friday writing
The bottle had been on display for a long time. Before that the bottle had spent even longer languishing in a dark cellar far away, gathering dust and allowing its contents to complete their final fermentation. Now the bottle was at last selected proudly by the self-styled 'Wine Wizard' and lovingly rolled on the counter, wrapping it within a cocoon of tissue.
"I think you'll be happy with your choice sir", said the Wine Wizard with a satisfied smile.
"I'm sure you're right, after all it is for a special occasion" answered Jeremy, offering his credit card to complete the transaction. He would not normally be so extravagant, but it was their anniversary and he longed to please Sarah, particularly since she has invited family for dinner this evening. When he asked for several bottles the Wine Wizards proprietor had assured him it was not pretentious to serve a magnum sized bottle and that in fact it was quite practical since one only had one bottle to open and the table was less cluttered too.
"Let me know how you liked it next time you are in" said the 'Wizard'.
"Oh, I shall", answered Jeremy as he took the proffered bottle and headed for the door.
Arriving home Jeremy placed the bottle on the counter top in the kitchen and unwrapped it. The label and the opaque gleam gave the bottle an air of authority added to by it's impressive size. He thought there would be no need for a centrepiece to the table with this in place. Surveying the table, already laid when he set out for the wine, and savouring the smells of his cooking which were filling the house he felt a welling up of the love he had for his wife of ten years, Sarah.
The bottle was placed in the centre of the table, atop a cork mat with a napkin close by to help with the pouring. The cork had been removed just beforehand, a long strenuous pull and a satisfying plop as Jeremy eased it out and released the aroma of the wine within. Six places were laid around the table, and each had both water and wine glasses. Both Sarah's and Jeremy's parents were seated at the table, happily exchanging stories of their holidays and remarking on how happy their childrens' marriage seemed.
Sarah smiled at Jeremy in the kitchen, watching him busily ferrying the hot food from the oven to the serving bowls. She was fetching the bread and water, an excuse to check how he was coping. The kitchen was normally her domain and she found it hard to give up control. Her smile was slightly forced, she found these family gatherings a strain and would like a glass of wine to settle her nerves. Every time the parents gathered she was painfully aware that another year had passed and still she could not seem to give them all what she felt they longed for as much as she did; a child.
Settling the last of the dishes on the table, Jeremy reached over the table and picked up the magnum bottle with relish. It was natural for him to be showing off a little. Not every day did he get the chance to make the kitchen his own and cook a dinner. Without asking he poured everyone a glass of the ruby liquid from the bottle. The heady aroma of hearty red wine was added to the appetizing smell of his cooking. Sitting at the head of the table he raised his glass and toasted, "To friends and family, present and future!". He saw the smile freeze on Sarahs lips and knew he had touched a nerve again. Cursing himself silently he swallowed his wine and carved the meat, filling the plates carefully.
The meal progressed and the conversation flowed more freely as did the wine. Step by step the bottles contents lowered until finally it was emptied completely, leaving a faint mottled stain of sediment, the mark of a quality wine. Jeremy and Sarah could not bring themselves to part with the bottle after the meal, when they had seen their parents to the door. In any case they knew it would not fit in the recycling bin, which only had an opening for regular sized bottles. That night their passion seemed almost fuelled to new heights by the wine, which had been both better and more plentiful than they were used to. Perhaps it was that, perhaps it was because they forgot they were "trying for a baby", or perhaps it was blind luck, but that night Sarah conceived.
Two years later the bottle is still a treasured object in the household - though it is now placed high on the mantel to be safe from the explorations of the young Phillip. He seems to get everywhere now he was just started walking, but the gleaming bottle on the mantel shelf will always hold a special place in the house, though it is unlikely Phillip shall ever learn why it is quite so special for his mother and father.
11:16 AM | 5 Comments | Tags: fiction Friday, Write anything, bottleFiction Friday post
I was just notified of something called "Fiction Friday" via my Write Anything feed. So I thought I would spare five or ten minutes and see what I came up with to participate. The results are below, and I have abided by the rules they are just as I wrote them. I'll reread it sometime whan and if I get any comments.
Alice tried to remember who had given her the key but as she felt the smoothly worn edge and the smooth leather fob against her palm she was reassured by the weight of it. Depressing the button at the other end of the key and activating the wireless signal the thrill ran through her in seeming reponse to the signal as she saw the yellow blinking that signalled to her which car unlocked. She approached the gleaming yellow sports car with a sense of mounting excitement, although she was in her thirty second year she had never driven any kind of performance car before. But here before her, crouching like an animal ready to pounce, was a Lotus Elise.
The door openned easily and she lowered herself carefully to the interior. At once she was aware of being extremely close to the surface of the garage, and of reclining far more than she was used to. The atmosphere within the car intensified as she closed the door and slid the safety belt over her body to secure herself. Sliding the key home and turning it she could feel her pulse quicken. As the key turned the car seemed to come to life before her, flickering indications of readiness showing themseves on the dashboard. She turned the key before she lost her nerve and the engine caught immediately. Tentatively she allowed her foot to press the accelerator and the response was a throaty growl and a vibration through the bodywork that hinted already of a controlled power, she thought to herself that perhaps this feeling was what people meant when they spoke of the "need for speed".
Alice lowered the handbrake and slipped the clutch to engage the power as she accelerated. The effect was immediate and breathtaking; pushed back into her seat the car gave every appearance of eating the road ahead with a ravenous appetite. She slipped immediately into second gear and steered her way down the ramp to leave the garage and join the highway. Then moving through the gears she rapidly picked up speed and exhilarated in the grace of the car as it clung to the road and made light work of every twist and turn despite the increasingly rapid progress she was making.
Alice could not remember who had given her the key, and it no longer seemed to matter to her, she immersed herself in the pure exhilaration of moving through the world as quickly, precisely, and smoothly, as she could. She would remember when the drive ended. She would find out who gave her the key then drive to them - but for now she was lost in the experience of the drive. They say life is not a destination but a journey. For these moments Alice's life existed purely in the travelling and all her other thoughts were cast aside.
08:55 PM | 5 Comments | Tags: Write anything, fiction Friday