Stories at the bar

She asked how they met, Wayne and Val.

Val said it was love at first sight, quite literally. And Wayne nodded in earnest agreement. He arrived late for a class they happened to be taking together and asked her out to lunch the same day.

That was 16 years ago and many hundreds of miles and thousands of hours had passed in between that moment and now. But they were together now and that is what mattered. They held each other’s hands tightly and smiled broadly.

She sat and listened to their story, which had many heart breaking twists and gut wrenching complications. But, they said again and again, they were together now, deeply happy.

She wanted to believe this was possible for her too, even now and even though some small part of her said that good things like this did not happen to people like her.

So: she dreamed.


8 thoughts on “Stories at the bar

  1. Too sad for what? It IS sad, whether it’s entirely a dream or not. I myself like your first version, which you changed, much better. It makes Wayne and Val real people, which they may not be in the version I read first, and makes the dreamer the Little Match Girl out in the cold, with her nose pressed against the window of a real warm, lighted restaurant. What I like about your writing, even the scraps, are that they are mostly sad. And real.

      1. Thank you. No one can tell someone else how to write, though. You have to do what feels right to you. [But you know that already.] I hope 2014 is a good year for you. In writing, and everything else. 🙂

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