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Happy Anniversary

This week marks my 21st anniversary. My wife and I have been married longer than we have been apart.

I love her to death, but it is scary to say it like that.

Anyway, I am continuing to try and write stories that are outside my norm. This is apparently a very good idea, since it was also mentioned on this week’s Writing Excuses Podcast.

And after writing this piece, I have to wonder how most other authors do it without a supernatural element? It is hard to get excited about a story that doesn’t have a monster.

That doesn’t matter in the end though. All that is important is finding ways to write better. I hope you enjoy the story.

L. E. White

Burning Dreams

Greg sat on a little concrete bench outside of work, smoking and staring at the parking lot while the sun was rising behind him. The sky was smeared in light orange and dark grey, but he did not look. He kept his eyes focused on the cars that made their way to deliver sleepy people to another day of manufacturing.

He leaned forward and stabbed the cherry red tip of his filter into the dirt. A soft hiss rose out of the dew covered grass before he sat the butt beside the others on the bench. He drew another from the pack and set the end ablaze before taking a long drag.

Greg watched and smoked until a lime green Beetle pulled into one of the reserved spots to his right. The driver, a tall blonde man with tan skin, looked up at Greg when he stepped onto the sidewalk. He walked towards the door with slow, shuffling steps like men used to use on their way to the gallows.

“Hi, Tom.”

The blonde shook his head no. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You wanted to this weekend,” Greg said. “You wanted a lot of things this weekend.”

“We were drunk.”

“You say that like you think it’s an excuse.”

He stood up straight and took a deep breath before squaring up to Greg and crossing his arms. “It is an excuse. I wasn’t thinking straight or I would have never suggested something like that.”

“It is way too late to take it back now.” Greg ran his hands through his hair, singing a streak through it with his cigarette in the process.

They stood there, staring at each other in silence for a few moments.

“So what now,” Tom asked. “Where do we go from here?”

“That depends on what else you have done about it.”

“What do you mean?”

Greg frowned. “I talked to my wife the moment I got home. It shocked her, but she didn’t say anything else. She hasn’t spoken to me at all since.”

“This can’t go any further,” Tom said. “We can’t do this.”

Greg shook his head and turned toward the building. “You suck. You know that right?”

Tom didn’t answer; he just walked into the building without looking back.

Greg reached into his back pocket and drew out a little piece of paper. “G & T Solutions”, scribbled on it in again and again. The two men had tried to come up with a logo for a business that they would never start. Greg crumpled the paper, squeezing it into a tight wad before using his lighter to burn away the reminder of his dream.

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