367

Days when her rage knew no limit.

Start a Fight scene

 I wrote this for a prompt on 1k a Day:
Start a Fight - Begin a story with two people in a hotel room having an argument. Who are these people? Why are they together? What are they arguing about? What’s at stake?
1,200 words

Please feel free to post feedback in the comments.

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“Well?” Cindy turned and looked expectedly at Derek. She twitched her nose and avoided the smile that was forming on her lips. Dinner was an hour ago and she was still getting used to seeing Derek in the same room as her. She shouldn’t be acting like this, not after all this time.

“Uh, I just wanted a place we could talk.” Derek glanced out into the hallway and then closed the door. He turned to face Cindy. “The music’s loud in the main room.”

Cindy nodded. “Can’t beat high school reunions.” She paused and the quiet moment fueled her sarcasm. “People who haven’t been together in ten years. Avoid the awkwardness by blasting the music.”

Derek laughed, his white teeth flashing, and dimples appeared on a normally serious-looking face. “You could always make me laugh, Cindy. I miss that.”

Cindy’s eyes glanced over his soft brown curls, strong jaw line, and slim body. He hadn’t changed much in ten years. She wondered if she seemed different to him. Cindy looked around the room. She had seen small parlor rooms like this in other hotels. The color scheme echoed past decades with whispered greens and fading tans. A small wooden table and two chairs. A large cushioned chair in the corner. The soft glow of the antique lamp gave the room a hazy, warm feeling. “What did you want to talk about?”

366

The only sounds he heard were the tires turning against the road.

365

What is this willingness you have to hold on to the past, to keep it broken and useless about you? That cassette tape no longer plays the music from your youth. At best, the boombox makes a whirring, screeching sound. Is that how you want to remember your favorite songs?

I think it would be better to let go of these artifacts. Recycle the plastic. Throw away the moving parts. Remember the songs in your mind--the nostalgia, the perfect tunes remain in you memory. They aren't in this plastic box anymore.

364

Every time I see you on screen, I believe you. It doesn't matter which role you have.

363

These were the sounds she hallucinated while she took a shower: ambulance sirens, the telephone ringing, thunder.

362

After she finished a cup of tea, she sometimes saw wisps of steam spiral up from the bottom of the mug.