I want it to be a "full circle" ending; where she on the train bound nowhere, and I want her to tell her story. Here is what I have so far,
The humidity of the New England suburb filled the seat next to the open window. I let the soft breeze caress my face as I watched the world roll by in blurs of green, brown, and blue. Together they painted the endless picture of trees and the cloudless sky. I leaned my arms, folding them, on the table in front of me. Tears stung the backs of my eyes as I sat there, letting my light brown hair whip in the wind. I shielded them behind large designer sunglasses, concealing them from any peeping eyes. I did not wish for the world to witness the tears as they traveled down my cheeks, past my chin, and onto my white shirt.
It is Wednesday, April 13th, 2010. I am on a train going to New York City. It is a long way from my hometown of Aurora, but this was the last thing that had to change. Too many memories are kept in the smallest of places. Too many memories of him were tucked under the bed, in the closet, and in the top drawer of my dresser, in the purple floral box of letters and Christmas cards.
In a year, so much had changed. It felt so surreal, like a dream. Maybe it was dream. Maybe it should have been.
I look down at my belly, holding it in my hands. He is his baby, but he won't be here to see his baby. He never will—there was no coming back. That was the biggest change of all. His Daddy was never coming home; his Daddy has passed on.
They first met at a cafe. I have the scene written out already. How can I connect the two together?
JBForever, how would I get in touch with you?
The humidity of the New England suburb filled the seat next to the open window. I let the soft breeze caress my face as I watched the world roll by in blurs of green, brown, and blue. Together they painted the endless picture of trees and the cloudless sky. I leaned my arms, folding them, on the table in front of me. Tears stung the backs of my eyes as I sat there, letting my light brown hair whip in the wind. I shielded them behind large designer sunglasses, concealing them from any peeping eyes. I did not wish for the world to witness the tears as they traveled down my cheeks, past my chin, and onto my white shirt.
It is Wednesday, April 13th, 2010. I am on a train going to New York City. It is a long way from my hometown of Aurora, but this was the last thing that had to change. Too many memories are kept in the smallest of places. Too many memories of him were tucked under the bed, in the closet, and in the top drawer of my dresser, in the purple floral box of letters and Christmas cards.
In a year, so much had changed. It felt so surreal, like a dream. Maybe it was dream. Maybe it should have been.
I look down at my belly, holding it in my hands. He is his baby, but he won't be here to see his baby. He never will—there was no coming back. That was the biggest change of all. His Daddy was never coming home; his Daddy has passed on.
They first met at a cafe. I have the scene written out already. How can I connect the two together?
JBForever, how would I get in touch with you?