2016 – Day 5

Start writing a story that...

Step 1: starts with this dialogue: The river is calm

Step 2: include this sentence: They met at the end of...

Step 3: add a character who: has a walking stick

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"The river is calm," she said, her feet pumping along the path, her stride even. "The trees are calm."

The Charles River flowed to her left, showing brief flashes of white as winter gusts blew across its surface.

"The birds are calm."

She made her way around a couple pushing a stroller, her feet striking a steady thunk, thunk, thunk against the dirt.

"I am calm." She took a deep breath. "The river is calm. The trees are calm..."

Jeremy had called that afternoon. She wasn't expecting to hear from him until the evening, but the daytime call wasn't entirely unusual. He'd been at UCLA for seven months studying for his Screenwriting MFA, and his phone calls had become infrequent and unpredictable. She had the feeling he was trying to catch her when she wouldn't be able to talk. The news was brief. Her name was Darcy. They met at the end of his shift at the bar where he worked. She was an aspiring stand-up comedian and a biology major. He felt terrible but he hoped she'd understand that things were better this way. Long-distance relationships were an impossibility. Also, he planned to stay in LA.

As they spoke, she drifted into the lumpy yellow chair they had salvaged two years ago during Allston Christmas, that September day when thousands of college students leave a bonanza of free curbside treasures for the taking. After he hung up, she sat frozen with indecision. She wasn't as upset as she'd expected, and that in and of itself was confusing. She thought she had loved him. Maybe she was in shock. Should she be crying? Her brain charged in all directions at once—the past where she thought they had been happy, the present where she felt untethered and alone, the future she had dreamt but could never see clearly.

Soon, the noise in her brain grew unrelenting, so she laced up her sneakers and headed outside. She began running even before she had cleared the building steps, and nearly crashed into Mr. Daniels, who lived on the 1st floor. As always, he wore a blue suit, circa 1965, and carried a walking stick. She guessed he was in his late 70s, but had the look of someone in his early 60s. He always seemed to have somewhere to go, but loved to stop for a chat. She couldn't face him today. Waving brusquely as she ran around him, she headed toward the river.