I had been out of sink with my last editor Erika who teaches and is super busy up in north Jersey, and now have just took on a phenomenal writer/editor/teacher- Michele Kallman, Princeton. We sat down together and worked on this piece I had written a few months back- Red Dashboard. Michele has been following my writing for quite some time and approached me about working together, and being involved with teaching drama and her own works that I have seen over the past months, I said yes.
If you read the first draft; which I totally wrote early early morning in one of my insomnia stints, and compare it to this edited revision, I think you will see I take my writing seriously, and hope to move forward with publishing my first book- Cast Iron Tempo- Poetry & Vignettes.
I also would like to thank Jeanne @ The Raisin Chronicles. She inspires me, and also helped with edits, support, input on this piece and other works. Thanks Michele & Jeanne you are two great writers, and good friends!
Red Dashboard
Walking the cold streets of midnight to escape my feelings is not my cup of tea.
I hate the cold!
I hate the darkness...
My feet pound the sidewalk in six inch stilettos…
Tap, Tap, Tap…
An unintentional SOS… Morse code…
Signals that I am getting closer to doing what I have wanted to do most of my life.
Living my own life the way it was meant to live.
Not sure who I am trying to warn.
Each breathe I take sends out smoke signals…
Soon his cologne is brought back into my nostrils.
Love, lust, the hatred...
Tainted with memories of his smile…
The compliments he gave me each day.
God, how I wanted him gone from my life, and I would almost do anything to free myself from his magnetism. Pulling my overcoat in tight around my neck as chills ran up and down my back. I felt as though eyes were watching me. Was he lurking around corners? In the city's dark doorways the paranoia had me walking even faster. A danger was present. Was I taking the wrong step, toward my own end? I had a goal. My goal was to see this life changing choice through. My car was not that far now, and I would be entering its toasty space; it was the kind of warmth that would help shake off the chill; possibly a false protection from the night.
Walking down late night streets was not something I like to do; yet it had become insomnia’s friend. I began to hear footsteps behind me. Could it be him? her? his mistress? That bitch that would not leave me alone; his weapon he now used against me. Drinks with acquaintances had provided false reassurance that I was in no danger. Even my friends did not understand how obsessed he had become. He wanted me, yet he would not let go of her. The cold was getting to me, I thought.
A light mist had veiled around me as the night was becoming dawn.
Only moments…
Tap Tap Tap…
I would be safe.
The sound of footsteps behind me grew louder.
My heels sank into the wet ground as I began to run faster, fumbling with my keys, I saw my blue Mercedes sitting near the corner curb. Adrenaline kept my thoughts clear. I can make it; it was just a few more feet. I got the alarm key ready just in case. There now I was safely inside the driver’s seat. The cool night mixes with the heat of breathe, as my exhalations fog up the windows, as I try to look outside. I panned around the cold tan leather interior.
Yes! The engine starts as a shadow loams within my mirror. Dread finds me once again. I yearn to escape these feelings of fear-ridden claustrophobia. Damn his sadistic charm! Damn his willingness to say anything and draw me into his baiting world; it's as though I am pulled through a funnel with no opening. Yanked into darkness I wanted no part of. In his mind he was the law, another powerful face.
Reaching quickly into my leopard-skin purse, I find my friend of safety, my shiny silver companion, loaded and ready. The car shakes, and I point my unsteady hand at the lurking shadow. The rocking makes causes hesitation to do what must be done.
Soon it all stops...
Crimson sweetness spills upon the dashboard, turning the darkness into my wine-sapped scene of violent passion...
If anyone has any thoughts on this piece, please share. How did it make you feel? Were you drawn into my story? What does the ending do for you? I will post another rework, as soon as we get it done. Thanks, E
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1 comment:
I was drawn right in. I like the way you write. I felt like I was there when I was reading it.
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