A Love Lost

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by MarieArt, Aug 23, 2013.

  1. MarieArt

    MarieArt Champion of Losers

    Do you know how long it has been since I've written anything at all? A long, long time--I'm talking my last FF was the last time I wrote anything. I used to write a lot, but in came college life. It swooped down and carried away a lot of my hobbies. Now that I've graduated and pending state board exams/job finding, I have a little time on my hands.

    This is the part where I say, "I've actually wrote something and I would appreciate some feedback." I would greatly appreciate feedback because I've NEVER ever wrote anything like this before. It's a work in progress and positive/constructive feedback is very appreciated immensely.
    Well, here we go:
    Title: A Love Lost

    Rating: 15

    Disclaimer: I wrote all of this myself, info came from online(e.g. 1950s research). Other than that, completely fictional; it's basically realistic fiction.

    Main Character(s): Joyce Abram, David Walker

    Summary: Reminiscing a love lost; an elderly woman thinks back about her deceased husband.

    Genre: Romance, Comfort/Hurt, Tragedy

    Chapter Index:
    Chp 1 - page 1
  2. MarieArt

    MarieArt Champion of Losers

    I know, double post, but I do not like posting my "information" and story text in the same post. Leaves more room for additional information. Positive constructive criticism and feedback is definitely welcomed, but negativity is frowned upon; there's a line between positive and negative constructive criticism.
    This isn't the whole story, I'm just getting back into the swing of this.
    The breeze that day softly blew through the towering trees. It carried the subtle dewy scent—the clean and fresh scent rain leaves behind. The sun hung high above the Earth, glowing as bright as it could in attempt to warm up such a horrifying day. A weary elderly woman seated herself in an old creaky rocking chair on the large patio attached to the front of her house. The house she shared with her husband for fifty-three years. She sipped tea from her favorite cup and stared into the heavily wooded area as if she was looking for something. “David loved sitting out here…” She sipped her tea then sighed, “He’d talk about anything and everything.”

    Joyce reminisced the moment they first met.

    That chilly autumn day in 1958, with a small suitcase in hand she made her way through the old train station and purchased a ticket to the next city. She still wasn’t too used to living in the United States; she was now on her own at the age of eighteen. Her family sent her to the U.S. when she was young in order to escape from German militia. Her Jewish mother wouldn’t have had it any other way; she wanted her daughter safe in America.

    The family she lived with was poor, but she didn’t mind. She had a roof over her head and two relatively small meals a day—she was thankful for anything she received. She missed her family very much and her ‘new’ family gave her a few letters her mother had sent with instructions, “Let her see these when she is old enough to understand.” That statement was scribbled on the envelope. At the age of fourteen, her ‘family’ gave her the old letters; Joyce knew what would be sealed up in the aged envelopes, her biological family’s goodbyes.

    Now eighteen, Joyce wanted more for herself because she began feeling like a bother to the family she had stayed with for so long. With what little money she had saved from odd and end jobs, she ventured out of her comfort zone.

    Out of nowhere, a man seated himself near her on the small bench. Auburn hair, fair skinned with subtle freckles scattered across his forehead and cheeks. He was somewhat good-looking, but not really in the ‘all girls swoon over him’ category. Really thin and lanky, he was, and looked about twenty in age. The name tag on his tattered work shirt read, “David.”

    Joyce looked away before he caught her staring. She didn’t want to seem rude or gawky. He didn’t pay her too much attention; he rested his elbows on his knees as his head loomed over the ground between his feet. He too was waiting on a train that wouldn’t be there for quite a while. A loud sigh escaped his mouth before he sat up with closed eyes and rested his head against the wall.

    Eventually he slit his eyes open and glanced over at Joyce. “Where are you heading?” He fully opened his eyes and gave her his full attention.

    “Uh, Rochester,” she murmured playing with the collar of her short dress.

    “Me too; I have family there,” he replied softly. “I was fired today, so I’m heading back.”

    She glanced around him, “You have no things with you.”

    “I only had work clothes and they don’t know I’ve been fired. Break the news softly, right?” He noticed she had a small suitcase. “You look like you’re going away for a while.”

    “Yes,” she nodded with a weak smile. “I’m trying to find myself basically.” She didn’t want to mention her life story, so she left it at that. “Never really ventured out before, not on my own anyway.”

    He politely nodded, “I don’t want to sound too forward, but would you like someone to show you around? I’m not trying to intrude or anything, just being nice. I won’t be offended if you say no.”

    Joyce shot him a small smile, “Why not?”

    His smile grew slightly as his cheeks grew a pinkish color. He extended his hand towards her, “Okay. Oh, uhm, I’m David Walker.”

    She carefully grasped his hand and shook it gently, “Joyce Abram.”
  3. Angila

    Angila InkGirl. Staff Member

    I love it! Sounds like it will be an adorable story. Looking forward to more!
  4. MarieArt

    MarieArt Champion of Losers

    Thank ya. I'm gradually working on the next little bit. :)
    Researching makes it a little slower to write.

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