The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #28

sailboat

The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #28

One Picture

One Element

One Emotion

200 Words

Indoor Camping

  A Birthday Wish

La douleur exquise

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7 thoughts on “The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #28

  1. He thought that hiding himself indoors for a few weeks, making a 7 foot sailing boat would keep his mind off her, but he’d forgotten about his birthday. She’d never miss that. Since his brother was being held captive by Taliban terrorists they’d spent a lot of time together.
    “Can you just hold this line?”
    “Sure.”
    Everything she did now drove him crazy: smiling, sitting, holding string, speaking, listening, flicking her hair, anything. Why did he have to fall in love with someone he couldn’t have? Admittedly, there were few girls on the island, but your brother’s wife?
    “Happy Birthday!”
    She laughed and passed him a small flat present, presumably a book.
    “Thank you.”
    He tried to hide his pain.
    “Aren’t you going to open it?”
    “It’s…it’s your copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, it is. You said you’d love to read it, so…”
    Another laugh, another stabbing wound to his suffering heart.
    “I see you have a cake.”
    “Yes, mother brought it over earlier.”
    “What did you wish for?”
    “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
    “Yes, I guess so.”
    She looked over at the photo of his brother, her husband, on the mantelpiece and started crying.

  2. She saw her gift in my hand and remembered aloud.

    “I broke my leg and got that crippling infection that kept me stuck in the lake house all summer.”

    “Yeah,” I said, looking away.

    “You dragged that old canoe up to my room, and built me a sail boat with the sheets and a mop.”

    “Stop,” I said, nearly inaudible.

    “We had such a great time up there. We probably had more fun up in my room that summer than we would have out on the lake.”

    “Stop, Rebecca.”

    “I remember you tried to kiss—“

    “Goddammit, just stop it, alright?” I yelled, red faced, my heart racing a million miles an hour.

    Rebecca stared at me, shocked. I had only raised my voice like that a handful of times in the 30 odd years we knew each other.

    “I hate you,” I whispered. A lie, dear God how I loved her. But to her I was the best friend, her rock to cling to.

    And now this.

    “Why are you acting this way?” she said.

    I dropped her birthday present and left the lake house.

    The little sail boat lay broken on the ground next to the wedding invitation.

  3. Knock knock knock.
    I answered the door. Oh good grief! It was Brian! What’s HE doing here?
    “Hey there, birthday girl,” he said. “Here, I brought you a card. Hey, are you all alone on your birthday?”
    “Oh, uh, yeah, I guess I am.”
    There was a noticeably long, silent pause, and then I blurted out, “You wanna … come in?” I don’t know why I said that. I was totally “in love” with him, but it was one of those situations that just wasn’t EVER gonna happen.
    He smiled at me and replied, “Yeah … sure!”
    That was four hours ago.
    I mentioned how I had been wishing I could “see the world”, and that’s when he began to tell me about his travels. Before long we were sitting in a small make-shift sailboat “anchored somewhere along the Spanish Main,” complete with party lights, sipping on wine and laughing.
    It was an evening I’ll never forget.
    After we said our goodbyes, I closed the door behind him, climbed back into our “ship”, and cried and cried and cried.

  4. ‘Surprise!’ Will yells, turning on the lights.

    Shelby stares.

    ‘Three guesses,’ Bonita says. ‘Come on, Sis, what does it look like?’

    ‘A triangle…a sheet? A tent?’

    ‘You hate camping. What else?’ Bonita asks. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t got it! It’s so obvious!’

    ‘Lighten up,’ Will says to Bonita. ‘It’s Shelby’s thirteenth. She’ll get it.’

    Shelby fastens her eyes on Will. He always knows what to say. Always. She turns to the contraption. ‘Um, maybe a sail?’

    ‘Yes! That’s it.’ Will gives her a hug. ‘We’re all going on a yacht to Fiji! How about that?’

    Shelby hardly hears. He hugged her. Just for a moment, her breasts were squished against his chest, and they are tingling still.

    ‘Wake up, Shelby,’ Bonita says. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

    ‘She is,’ Will says. ‘Just a bit overwhelmed, aren’t you, Pet?’

    He called her “Pet”. He does like her. Just a bit, anyhow, and thirteen is better than twelve. Twenty-four minus thirteen is eleven. And her breasts are now big enough to be squishable.

    She feels herself blushing. Not about the hug, about the secret birthday wish that popped to mind – that Bonita falls overboard.

    Then she and Will sail towards the sunset. Together.

  5. Dying Wish
    Danielle Lee Zwissler
    I was seventeen, and I was dying. There couldn’t have been anything more morose than that. There was nothing to spoil the day, other than knowing why I got the wish in the first place, but the people from Make A Wish Foundation, did the wish justice.
    I was too sick to go outside for a campout, so I wished for the outdoors in. They built me this beautiful tent, complete with twinkling lights and even holy and greenery. There were sleeping bags everywhere, and there was even a small fireplace plugged in in the corner, to make it look like we were having a camp out.
    My mom made s’mores in the microwave, and my dad told old campfire stories while my brother and sister and I drank hot chocolate.
    I smiled and closed my eyes, while listening to my dad tell me my one last story. My birthday wish finally coming true, not for the outdoors in, but for being surrounded by my family in our very favorite place. Home.

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