The JUST WRITE SOMETHING Challenge | Day 5

I had so much fun with yesterday's challenge! I might not have stuck with the prompt 100%, but I an idea popped into my head, so I had to just with it! I'm going to keep this part short because I have a lot of share with you from what I wrote yesterday.

Yesterday's writing: 

There was a soft crackling sound that came from the record player as it changed to the next song. The sound of Miles Davis’s trumpet echoed off the walls of Hailey’s small studio apartment. She laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She’d been there for the last hour –the last fifty-eight minutes and 17 seconds to be exact. She planned to stay that way until the album ends. Then, and only then, would she get up but only to move the needle back to the first groove. From the sound of the trumpet, she estimated that she had twenty minutes before she had to get up, which gave her enough time to fantasize about her own trumpeter. Or, rather, her ex-trumpeter, Jax, she would have to get used to calling him that.

 They met at the bar down the street from her apartment. She didn’t usually go out at night, but this particular night she had just quit her shitty job at the shoe store and needed a drink. He was in the back of the bar, on a small make-shift stage. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him watch her as she made her way over to the bar. She looked over at him, and he flashed her a smile before bringing the trumpet to his lips and playing a simple note that was packed with so much soulfulness and desire, it was as if Hailey had been transformed back into the jazz era. After he finished his set, Jax came over and introduced himself, and they became inseparable. Until the day he left, and Hailey took up the hobby of wearing out her record player by playing the same album over and over.
Hailey’s mind was still on Jax when someone first knocked on her door. The second knock was louder and brought her back into reality.

“Go away,” she yelled, not wanting to get up.

The person at the door obliviously didn’t listen because there was another knock on the door this time even louder and to the beat of the song.

She turned the volume down on the record player before opening the door to find a short pudgy man with white hair and wire-rimmed glasses smiling at her.

“Can I help you?” Hailey had never seen this man before. There was an older lady that lived a few doors, maybe he heard the music and got confused.

“Hello,” the man said, sticking out his hand.

Hailey weakly shook his hand. “I think you have the wrong apartment. Mrs. Greene lives three doors down in 4D.”

“No, I’m in the right place. You’re Hailey Morrison, right?”

She shook her head hesitantly, as she positioned herself behind the door. He didn’t seem like a murderer. In fact, the deep wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and the way he smiled when he talked made him look more like a grandfather than a murderer. Maybe he’s my long-lost grandfather, and he saw my name in the paper, and he decided to come find me? But Hailey had already met her grandparents on both sides, and her name hadn’t been in any newspaper.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Hailey asked.

“I’m Love,” the man replied cheerfully.

She stood there scratching her head, confused.

He tugged at his collar while he cleared his throat.

“I’m your...err...Love Life. You said earlier that you needed to get your love life in order, so I’m here to help you.”

His words hung in the air between them.

Neither one of them moved.

After a moment, Hailey lifted her hand and closed the door on her Love Life.

Today's writing prompt: 

Finish this sentence in three alternate and original ways: "When life gives you lemons..."


Popular Posts