chapter 3

Driving home in the pouring rain is never Elan’s idea of a good time. Still, she thinks, this is a challenge. Everyone else seems to totally flip out at the thought of slick roads – she just white knuckles the steering wheel and grits her teeth to help with the stress.

Finally home, she kicks off her shoes and heads straight for the shower. Anything short of scrubbing her skin off will help get rid of the stress of the day, despite the constant ringing of the cell phone.

“DAMMIT!!”

She waits for it to stop. It rings again and again and again, then stops just as she’s exiting the shower. Just for that, she thinks, I’m not calling you back right away” as she sinks into the couch with a hot cup of cider and the microwave dinner she had picked up on the way home.

second installment

Elan decided that going home was the best option, but that going home to no food was not. Stopping at the local organic food store on the way home would be the BEST option.

So off to the market she goes. And there bumps into none other than ... this guy. This guy she knows... what was his name again? Brett? Brandon? WAIT...Brad. "You remember him... the tall, sandy blonde that ignored you in college? That agreed to escort you to that dance?" she says to herself. "Oh yes... just one of many heartbreaks/heartbreakers..." she muses to her self.

"Oiy! Brad! What's up!?"

Not much. Just moved here for a new job. What about you?

Working, as usual. The funny thing is that they never tell you that the work doesn't stop with college, it just gets more focused and pointless.

Seriously!

Hey, I gotta run, but it was good seeing you!

Yeah, you too. Hey we should totally get together some time... what's your number?

We should definitely ... my fiance` and you would really get along.

Oh.

What... "oh."???

You're engaged?!

Uh, yeah. See the ring? (she blatantly waves the rock on her left hand... boys.)

--
In any event, they exchange numbers. Elan knows he won't call and doesn't totally intend to call him either. She'll pass it to her fiance` and tell him to call. Or to remind her to call - that will pretty much ensure that the call will never be made. Reconnecting with old crushes is not high on the priority list with a wedding to plan.

what love can't make better...

As much as I want to write a great post tonight, I can't. I have to go write a summary on stress granules and Processing bodies. Yay. :-| So this will be a short but sweet one.

I need to write more other than complaining. So now for your reading enjoyment, a short story... or a short part of a short story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sky was inky black. Aside from the faint glow of the street lamps. It made it look almost like a charcoal drawing, with extra color from pastels added into the scene.

The protagonist of our story stepped out into the warm fall and made the brief observation that it was certainly warm for November. What to do next? To the library for a brief jaunt through the periodicals section for an article, then home to some food... or to the store to buy more food... or what else she didn't know. She just new that after standing all day, and trying desparately to focus on what her hands were doing, she wanted to allow her mind to wander aimlessly. To let her mind call the shots and to cause her fingers to dance gingerly over the keys and let out the thoughts that, like her, had been trapped inside all day - away from the light, hidden in the basement, and kept away from the world. Perhaps allowing them to spill would lighten the load and free her focus to accomplish the things she was required to do (not necessarily NEEDED to do, because that might imply she would rather be doing those things than anything else...).

She stepped out. And let her mind wander with her feet.