Day 13: Write a poem or a piece of creative prose.

Hi All

One of my ambitions in life would be to write a novel. I would love to write a novel set in Jane Austen's time and maybe I will in the future....I'd also love to write a chick lit book and I guess that would be the genre that my piece today fits into. Here is a snippet of an idea I've had for a little while-hope you enjoy it, put your feet up and grab a cuppa (actually it's not that long but who needs an excuse hey? ;)):

The sun streamed through the blinds and made the shadows dance on the crisp white linen. Abigail turned over to avoid the new day but the harsh cry of her mobile phone alarm brought her into reality. She walked to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Was she still attractive? Had she aged since she’d met Ian? Maybe she’d just become too comfortable. Abigail held back the tears as she showered and got dressed for work. Another day of being somebody else, trying to forget, faced her. A simple black A-line dress, flattering but professional, was her chosen outfit for the day. Abigail glanced over at the clock, she’d obviously taken a bit longer to get ready than she thought. She was going to be late. With one swift movement she picked up her handbag and keys and ran out of the door.

      As she went down in the lift she hoped she wouldn’t meet anyone. Abigail wasn’t good in the mornings any day but today was definitely not a good day. She watched the display flashing each floor as she descended to the ground. No unwanted meetings in the lift, maybe today was on her side.  The lobby was bare as she was able to escape her building out onto the streets of London.

     The harsh, bitter wind of November hit her as soon as she left the revolving door. She’d forgotten to wrap up for this time of year but didn’t have time to go back. Abigail quickly jumped on the tube towards her office in Holborn. It was the usual mad morning rush, men in suits with umbrellas, women in high heels trying to drink their coffee whilst swaying with the train and the occasional tourist who’d wanted to experience the morning excitement of London. Abigail kept checking her watch, it seemed that time was ticking away and the train was getting slower and slower.

     Finally, she arrived at her stop and rushed out of the station. First stop was the local coffee shop close to her office. She wouldn’t be able to face her colleagues until she had a black coffee and a croissant inside her. It would seem that she had become a regular, she didn’t even need to tell them her order, they almost had it ready for her as she walked through the door. As Abigail stood soaking up the warmth of the shop, she looked around and noticed couples snuggled in the corner as if they’d been there all night, young women on their laptops enjoying the cozy atmosphere, friends who were eagerly catching up before work, as well as the token businessman talking loudly on his mobile so all of the world could hear how important he was.

     The size of her office block loomed over her as she entered the minimalistic, glass lobby. Abigail decided to take the stairs today, it was only two floors and it would do her good. It had nothing to do with her avoiding all human contact of course. As soon as she started up the cold, concrete steps, she regretted her decision. She was so unfit, she decided enough was enough and she had to start getting the most out of her gym subscription she paid for every month. Perhaps it was just what she needed. Arriving on her floor, most desks were occupied as she tried to sneak past without being noticed.

     “What time do you call this Missy?” bellowed a high voice behind her as she reached her desk.

     “Hi Carol, sorry, it took me a while to get sorted this morning, you ok?”

     “Think I better be asking you that question, you look like hell! Have you seen the state of your eyes? They look like two swollen tomatoes! He’s not worth it, I told you,” Carol almost yelled across the office. Abigail admired the honesty of Carol the majority of the time, but today, just for one day, she’d like to be told she looked fine or that no one would notice she’d spent most of the night crying into her pillow.

     “Thanks Carol! You’re a true friend!”

     “Aha, a smile! Knew I could cheer you up.”

     Abigail couldn’t help but smile at her best friend. She had been the one she had confided in, the one who told her that everything would be ok, and the one that had tried to convince her that none of this was her fault. Of course, Abigail blamed herself. How could she not? 

Hope you enjoyed it, let me know your thoughts. I've just typed this straight up so it is a little disjointed and needs lots of drafting but I hope those of you that enjoy this kind of genre liked it :)

Thanks for popping by.

Arline

xx