A Little Story...

My whole life I've always written little stories. Some I finished. Most I left unfinished. They range from Edgar Allen Poe inspired stories, hobbit adventures, southern belles, super-villains, etc. One of my cheesy favorites was written back when I graduated from high school. It was during my Adrian Brody crush-a-thon. :-)  I remember reading an interview he gave to some magazine...well...I'm not sure I was reading it as much as I was drooling over his pictures. Haha! And suddenly I had the urge to write... I grabbed a sticky pad and jotted down: "high and delicate cheekbones framing a strong nose and baleful eyes that peer out from under a pale brow with just a trace of mild amusement" Can you tell how in love I was? Hahahaha!

Well today I thought I would share my little story. Don't laugh...haha...okay you can laugh. I admit...I can be quite obsessive! Don't expect anything amazing...I am by no means good at writing!

Mystery Man

"As I was standing on the corner of 5th and Broadway an unnatural mist settled on the surprisingly relaxed paced street of New York. I had nothing to do that night and decided to watch the variety of people passing by my doorsteps. There were socialites, social climbers, reporters, musicians, politicians, junkies and 'women of the night'. There were so many people I could write about, but amazingly I wasn't interested in any of them. 


Then when I was about to give up hope and go back inside, I changed my mind. Across the street stood a man by whom I was inspired to write. dressed in an Armani suit with a fedora slouched across one side of his jet black hair. He leaned against a street lamp and lit a cigarette. He had high and delicate cheekbones framing a strong nose and baleful eyes that peer out from under a pale brow with just a trace of mild amusement that danced in those enchanting eyes. For a moment I was lost in time just looking at him, but quickly came back to earth when I noticed him looking at me. 


I felt embarrassed and hoped he hadn't noticed how long I was staring at him. A smile played on his face and he winked at me. Then slowly he turned away, climbed into a cab, and drove off into the starry night. I went inside and quickly began to write. Never again would I see a man like him and I probably would never see him again, but his memory would be with me forever. "
                                                                                                                                by: M. Arnold - 2004




Omg!  ;-)