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It's Only The Beginning
#WritcoStoryPrompt71
You woke up feeling great. Your neighbours’ loud dogs weren’t barking and you don’t hear the kids fighting over toys. You proceed to follow your morning routine as usual and go to work. What do you think happened? Create something extraordinary as a story.
Strange, this doesn't usually happen, it feels weird as though something's not quite right...
On the 7:45am into the city, like sardines in a tin can squashed against strangers, head turned so as not to breathe in anyone's face, but oh, what's that smell? Ooh that's gorgeous, that's Farenheight, and smells so good as it tantalises your senses. A deep breath in, that's really nice. Turning my head back to see who would wear such an extravagant aftershave. There he was all 5ft 10 of him and I barely reached his neck. I looked up. His jaw solid, firm shoulders and chest, his shirt sat comfortably over them, his biceps pulled at the sleeves. I looked down, interesting he's wearing shoes, not trainers, shoes. Brogues to be precise, tan leather and nicely polished. Navy trouser suit, his jacket slung nearly over his left arm, ontop of which rested his leather iPad case, iPad on top currently reading The Times index pages have his interest. Not mine.
A sudden nudge in my side, people trying to get off as we reach Victoria Station. Doors open, 'Mind the gap' the announcement screeched as is usual on the London Underground. Bodies from all directions amble for the door. A slight push here, a dodge to the left, a bump of bags, oh thank God I'm nearly at my stop. A quick inhale of air as more people board and the doors close firmly behind them. As we stand embarrassingly close to complete strangers, if we got any closer we'd be kissing one another, but it's all in a day's dutiful public travel system to get us all into the city centre.
I take another look up, nearly breaking my neck, his dark neatly cut hair resting on his shoulders, up passed his jawline, passed his cheekbones, nose and his... OMG it looks like, no, it can't be?
I take a step back, my right foot lands on something squidgy underneath mine. I've done it, stepped on someone's toes. Embarrassed I immediately apologise. The unfortunate victim looked at me with such disdain lifted her head and looked sternly straight ahead. I could see the look of pain in her eyes. She's ready to burst with anger. She was wearing summer open-toe sandals with toe nails painted red. I wonder if I broke her baby toe, I don't think so?
I take another look at the man who's now turned sideways towards me. I look up at him again and I'm in shock. There before me in his navy blue suit, check open-neck shirt and tan brogues, is the one and only man of my dreams.
To Be Continued....
You woke up feeling great. Your neighbours’ loud dogs weren’t barking and you don’t hear the kids fighting over toys. You proceed to follow your morning routine as usual and go to work. What do you think happened? Create something extraordinary as a story.
Strange, this doesn't usually happen, it feels weird as though something's not quite right...
On the 7:45am into the city, like sardines in a tin can squashed against strangers, head turned so as not to breathe in anyone's face, but oh, what's that smell? Ooh that's gorgeous, that's Farenheight, and smells so good as it tantalises your senses. A deep breath in, that's really nice. Turning my head back to see who would wear such an extravagant aftershave. There he was all 5ft 10 of him and I barely reached his neck. I looked up. His jaw solid, firm shoulders and chest, his shirt sat comfortably over them, his biceps pulled at the sleeves. I looked down, interesting he's wearing shoes, not trainers, shoes. Brogues to be precise, tan leather and nicely polished. Navy trouser suit, his jacket slung nearly over his left arm, ontop of which rested his leather iPad case, iPad on top currently reading The Times index pages have his interest. Not mine.
A sudden nudge in my side, people trying to get off as we reach Victoria Station. Doors open, 'Mind the gap' the announcement screeched as is usual on the London Underground. Bodies from all directions amble for the door. A slight push here, a dodge to the left, a bump of bags, oh thank God I'm nearly at my stop. A quick inhale of air as more people board and the doors close firmly behind them. As we stand embarrassingly close to complete strangers, if we got any closer we'd be kissing one another, but it's all in a day's dutiful public travel system to get us all into the city centre.
I take another look up, nearly breaking my neck, his dark neatly cut hair resting on his shoulders, up passed his jawline, passed his cheekbones, nose and his... OMG it looks like, no, it can't be?
I take a step back, my right foot lands on something squidgy underneath mine. I've done it, stepped on someone's toes. Embarrassed I immediately apologise. The unfortunate victim looked at me with such disdain lifted her head and looked sternly straight ahead. I could see the look of pain in her eyes. She's ready to burst with anger. She was wearing summer open-toe sandals with toe nails painted red. I wonder if I broke her baby toe, I don't think so?
I take another look at the man who's now turned sideways towards me. I look up at him again and I'm in shock. There before me in his navy blue suit, check open-neck shirt and tan brogues, is the one and only man of my dreams.
To Be Continued....
