When he finally leaves the office, Josh walks out into a clear night and sighs.
“Cig? You look like you could use one.” Andrew sits on a bench sheltered from the wind by a marble wall, swaddled in a swath of cashmere that wraps, constrictor-like, from his collarbone to his chin.
“Nah, I quit five years ago,” Josh says. His iPhone rings, and without glancing at the caller ID, he silences it.
“What the hell, gimme one.”
Their smoke rings mix with fogged breath. In his pocket, Josh’s iPhone buzzes again and again, a beetle trying to jump out of its shell.
“You gonna ignore it all night?” Andrew asks.
“Planning on it. I’m so done for the day. He wants anything else done, it can wait until–” Josh checks his watch “–we get in. Which should be about six hours from now.”
“It’s your funeral.”
They watch the line at The Zebra Room across the street, miniskirts, sequined tops and hair gel corralled behind a velvet rope.
And then she’s there. A flash of red hair, her green coat. She’s with someone he’s never seen before. They move under a streetlight. He’s tall. His muscles have muscles and his black turtleneck shows them all.
As Josh watches, squints, she touches Turtleneck’s chest. Time freezes with the air. He can see her ring glitter in the light, and as her sleeve falls back, he sees her charm bracelet. The one she never takes off. As she laughs, he thinks he can hear the tinkle of the charms from his bench in the shadows.
His phone buzzes. Across the street, she has her own phone out, and a finger to her lips.
“Hello?”
“Hey, hon! I just wanted to check and see how late you were going to be.”
Josh watches Turtleneck nuzzle her neck. Her muffled giggle mixes with the sounds of the others in line.
“Where are you? It sounds loud.”
“Oh, that’s just the TV. I’m at home.”
“Well, I …” Josh looks at his fiancé, edging closer to the bouncer. He reaches for rage but finds only a deep pool of exhaustion.
“I’m gonna be a while.”
“Well, I’ll just go on to bed. Love you!”
She slips her phone back into her clutch and disappears into the club. Josh crushes his cigarette and heads back into the building.
“Thought you were done,” Andrew calls.
“Me, too.”
This is a fiction piece for the online writers’ group Write On Edge. The prompt: In 400 words or less, write a story or memoir which relates to choices and/or consequences. Because of the word limits, you may choose to focus just on the choice, or just on the consequence. Remember to capture a moment using dialogue, action, and reaction.
I love feedback, but I really love constructive criticism! Tell me what you think.
Awww.. what a story! Great characters: that poor guy – I really felt for him.
I especially enjoyed this paragraph: “And then she’s there. A flash of red hair, her green coat. She’s with someone he’s never seen before. They move under a streetlight. He’s tall. His muscles have muscles and his black turtleneck shows them all.”
The way you modulate your prose between short sentences and long sentences create nuance and mood.
In terms of constructive criticism, I think it might be stronger if the only time his phone rings, it is his fiance. By starting it with the ringing phone, it takes away from the moment when it is the fiance. The timing is a little tricky too – he must have worked really late to be on again in six hours… what does he do?
Great read!
Thanks, Barbara!
Josh is a lawyer at a big sweatshop of a firm. I should have made the phone thing clearer–a lot of the phone buzzing or vibrating was him getting emails, not calls (though the first one was from a senior partner).
The idea is that through the course of the story, his mood goes from so over it he’s willing to ignore a call from this guy who’s essentially his boss, to so exhausted and crushed that he makes the choice to ignore his fiancé’s infidelity happening right before his eyes.
I put it together in a hurry–was trying to make a complete story in 400 words. Next time I need to start earlier!
Wow–now that’s what I am always hoping to do: create a complete piece in 400(ish) words. You rock. Very compact, very well developed.
I’m going to pass on one thought that someone else suggested to me on another work a while back–namely, avoid naming the iPhone. It dates the piece. What my crit partner told me was, “Imagine if you’d put in MySpace and were trying to sell it now.” He suggested using something more generic: smart phone, or just phone, since mobile phones are so nearly universal now.
I’m not giving that as a critique, just as something to think about. I have mixed feelings on that one myself.
It makes me so happy to hear you say that!!! That was my goal for this piece–something complete that could stand on its own in 400 words. Doing a Snoopy dance over here in my living room.
Thank you so much for the advice about iPhones and such. It really does date a piece. There are times I might want to do that, but this isn’t one of them.
I find this piece very intriguing. It works as it’s own short story, but could also lead to a larger, longer story featuring these characters.
I like the suspense of him seeing the woman – who is she? what ring is she wearing? – to the utter sadness in the realization that she is his fiancee. It’s tragic, but very well written.
I agree with taking out iPhone and just using a more generic term. This seems like a piece that should be a little bit more universal.
You certainly have me feeling sorry for him! To be sitting outside so close to where your fiancee is cheating on you and she believes the lie you tell? How awful. You convey the sense that this is a common occurance so well by his reaction, or lack there of. Great job.
I don’t have a huge problem with the iPhone being named as such, but changing it to “smartphone” might work, too. But then I would only say smartphone once and phone the rest of the time. Saying “smartphone” helps with the idea that some of the calls are e-mails and not just calls he’s ignoring.
Something that does strike me is the having of the cigarette. I get that he’s having a terrible day at work on top of many terrible days, but after five years, it seems like a big step for some reason (maybe I’m sensitive to it as a former smoker?)
I love the passages where he’s watching his fiancee. I think you really conjure the images well there, and I feel his rather detached emotions about the whole thing.
I really liked the phone call, hearing her words and seeing so plainly that she’s lying. I was guessing that he was an undercover cop. I see now that the men are on a bench, so I guess I shouldn’t have thought that. I loved how you slowly revealed more and more about how the characters were connected.
Nicely done! I liked all of it. Kathleen already mentioned the iPhone/smartphone option.
Now I really like the whole thing, but…I would have loved to see her face if he said, “I’m on my way home right now. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
I’m just a cruel, cruel person.
Great take on the prompt!
Oh, that made me cringe. Excellent job.
I struggle with naming the tech, too. I’ve got a whole novel manuscript which reflects my indecision on the matter.
I like that you don’t beat us over the head with the scenario, and that it is a complete vignette inside the word count, but not a fully resolved conflict. It’s an excellent example of short form fiction techniques.
Re: the phone alerts, I think some clarification might help to maximize the impact of the actual phone call.
So glad to see you linking up more fiction, selfish me!