FF – In or Out

Photo copyright Alicia Jamtaas

In or out

“Don’t fall!” he says, like always. Big grin on his face, coffee in hand, heading off to whatever and wherever he goes every day after he passes my window.

I’m perched on the ledge, like always. One leg hanging free, one safely inside. My heart balances too. Maybe he has a wife. Maybe he’s gay. Maybe he doesn’t even notice when I’m not here.

I notice. Where was he Monday? Sick or on vacation? I worried that he’d moved or changed jobs, but he’s back today.

“Don’t fall!” he says. Today isn’t the day to admit that I already have.

Extroduction

I tried, I promise, but nobody who studied English in a British high school can see a woman in a casement and a man on the ground not end up with a love story, at least as one of the thoughts in their head. Better this than the other kind of leap Juliet might have been contemplating.

When you walk the same route to work day in, day out, there are people who populate that walk like old friends you’ve yet to meet. They are so much a part of the walk that you miss them when they aren’t there – wonder where they’ve gone and whether they will be back. I remember one such person from my daily commute in Bristol, 15+ years ago. I wasn’t romantically interested like this character, but I still felt a little connection to him. Then I moved away and of course I didn’t say goodbye because I’d never said hello, but I wonder if he noticed.

Friday Fiction – Star-crossed

Great to be back with the Friday Fictioneers (although I must admit I rather enjoyed my week in the Bahamas, leaving you with some scheduled posts in my absence!). This week the light from Rochelle‘s brandish falls on a photo from Kent Bonham – a challenging prompt indeed for a real life writer like myself. Let me know what you think!

Star-crossed

Standing on the balcony, Melissa felt like Juliet after the masquerade ball. But there would be no Romeo climbing up to reach her tonight, and if Queen Mab was abroad, Mercutio wasn’t dancing with her.

Peter Ransome was downstairs: her very own Paris. Wasn’t the dead-cert Prom Queen supposed to attend with her King?

What would Juliet do? She thought, looking two floors down at the ground. But Juliet was married when she died; Lee didn’t even know how she felt yet. And Romeo wouldn’t jump.

She grasped tightly onto the drainpipe and swung her leg over the balcony railing.

***

For those who enjoy these things, here’s the original version, together with some notes about the changes.

v1

Standing out [cut – sounds like she’s standing out, rather than standing alone] on the balcony, she felt like Juliet after the masquerade ball. But there would be no Romeo climbing up to reach her tonight, and if Queen Mab was abroad, Mercutio wasn’t dancing with her. [I fought to keep this phrase in. It would have been an easy cut in one sense, but I have a strong affection for Queen Mab and Mercutio – those who met Vacant Edward will know why! -and this is one puppy I just couldn’t kill. Besides, it adds richness or texture or something.]

“Melissa, Peter’s here,” her Mum called from downstairs. [Ah, the old “exposition as dialogue” thing. Doesn’t stop it being exposition, and it was too many words. Had to go]

Peter: her very own Paris. Wasn’t the dead-cert Prom Queen supposed to attend with her future King?

What would Juliet do? She thought, looking down at the ground, two floors below. But Melissa hadn’t married her Romeo yet. He didn’t even know how she felt. [This whole final section really needed more words to do it justice, but I didn’t have that luxury. I played around with it a lot, trying to show Melissa’s emotions and dilemma better. Let me know if you have any ideas on how it could be improved!]

Juliet might jump, Melissa thought, but I can be Romeo instead. She grasped tightly onto the drainpipe and swung her leg over the balcony railing.