Building dreams together is one of the perks of being in a relationship. It makes me look forward for the future. But when the relationship gets awry….
She met a boy who wished for a simple home in a suburban neighborhood. No qualms and chaos. Just there to have peace and quiet. Now, he is gone.
She almost fell in love with a man who wanted a house on top of a century-old tree. He would build his own tree house and put a sun roof so all the light would come in. Now, he is pursuing someone else.
She fell in love with a man who dreamt of a Pi-shaped house with her. A white Pi-shaped house with an Olympic size swimming pool in between the elongated parts of the house. Now, he is with someone else.
The tragedy of it all? They never asked her what she wanted.
In all fairness, I still don’t know how my ‘dream house’ would look like. o.O
What does your dream house look like?
I’ve written this one when I was hanging out in a coffee shop all by myself and I started noticing this guy getting antsy and kept on looking at his watch and phone. I figured, “Hey, he might be waiting for his blind date.” and this is where this flash fiction started.
He sips his coffee, one shot espresso. He feels the sudden warmth around his tongue. It reminds him of something; someone. It reminds him of her. He wonders. Where could she be?
She walks along the pavement and gets the last drag out of her cigarette. She holds it; then, blows out the smoke. She enters the café and whips her hair out of her face. She goes to the counter and orders. “Mocha latte over-iced”, she said.
Headphones blaring in his ears, he drowns the world out.At least, he thinks he did. He looks up. A woman with fair complexion and curly hair enters the coffee shop. Is this her? He musters the courage to stand up and tries to call her name but then…
She looks for him. Where is he? Is this he who sits alone in a table for two. She approaches the man. “Is this seat taken?” she said.
She is here.
He is here.
Here is my attempt at flash fiction. I hope you guys enjoy. 🙂
I saw a couple in the tea house earlier; a young couple. Maybe senior college students. They sat in front of each other. The girl was shaking her large honeydew milk tea. The guy followed suit with his chocolate milk tea. The girl wasn’t in her element. The guy noticed that, too. So he tried to do smalltalk with her.
Well, it wasn’t working. The guy was asking the wrong kind of questions. The girl had the chance to answer either a yes or a no. And she did. Then, the girl made a great deep sigh.
“Where do you think are we going?”, she said.
“I thought you were planning on an out of town trip with your parents?”
“No, this, us.”
The guy had nothing to say. He was getting fidgety on his seat. He tried to make eye contact with the girl but all she could do was stare into the marble tiles. The guy tried to tell something. He was mustering the courage to say something. But he didn’t have enough guts to say it out loud. He left. No stomping or theatrical walkouts. He just left, graciously.
The girl was left staring at the blankness of the floor.
The girl is me.