Sharing Sunday: Seeing Susan

Happy Sharing Sunday! Today is the day that I share something from my writer’s notebook. But this week I’m cheating.

A few weeks ago Lindsey shared a piece she developed from her writer’s notebook, “Trying to be Cool.” It was an awesome piece that she even read at open mic night!

Lindsey

Her piece was so much like a piece my brother wrote last year in seventh grade grammar class I couldn’t help but share!

Assignment: Write a short story that produces a feeling…without directly mentioning the feeling.

Approach: I wanted to do something misleading. So it seems all hopeful until the end. I wanted to make a relatable character and he drew inspiration from the overall assumption that guys are supposed to be athletic. I also wanted to work on building anticipation.

FICTION

“Seeing Susan”

Dakota Empfield

I am six foot five, captain of every sports team, and have had dozens of girlfriends…. in my dreams. In reality I am five foot even, leader of every nerd event possible, and have never gone on a date. Now you can imagine my surprise when Susan Smith, the cutest girl in the eleventh grade, asked a pale, weak guy like Robert Smith, me, out on a date. I was to meet her at Fonzie’s, the pizza place, at exactly six tonight. I was so excited that the rest of school felt like a fallacy.

I could think solely about seeing Susan until I got home. Unfortunately, there was a problem: I live on the other side of town with no car, bike, or even a bus. Also, I get home at four which means I’ll have to start walking scratch that, sprinting, at five.

I got home, sputtered my plans to my parents, and whizzed off to the bathroom. I took a super-speed shower and spent ten minutes finding something substantially clean to wear. I was feeling pretty good about myself and clambered toward the door when who should stop me, but my sister. She took a single glance at my face and found the whole story in my anxious eyes, nervous smile, and eager movements. She pushed me like a Nazi, demanding that I march upstairs and take a second try at the shower.

After showering six times and trying all conceivable combinations in my closet, she was satisfied. I screeched out the door looking at my watch, 4:52. I still had some time so I decided to get flowers for my date. I charged into the flower store. Wouldn’t you know it? They were out of flowers! I know, right? It was 5:05; I still had some time so I dashed into another shop. They had the perfect bouquet of brilliant, deep-red, brilliant roses, exactly the thing for a charming night like this. I sprinted to the checkout stand where five more people waited.

At 5:25 it was finally my turn to checkout. I reached into my pocket and pulled out… nothing. My wallet was at home. Of course I would have to pay for the meal, so I dropped the bouquet as I was being chased from the store and sped away like a maniac through the streets, muttering apologies as I collided with passerbies. I arrived at my house, ripped apart my clothes trying to find my wallet, and dashed out to retrace my steps.

By the time I had retraced my steps, it was 5:45 and it was 20 minutes to get to Fonzie’s. I didn’t care. I just went faster because I wanted to see Susan.

I was there at 5:57! I reserved our table and went to the bathroom. Man, I looked like a mess. I straightened myself up, pulled a lost rose from out of my clothing, and went to wait for Susan Smith. Six sharp: no Susan. Seven o’ two: no Susan. Eight fifteen: still no Susan. At ten I finally realized, she wasn’t coming to see five feet, leader of the nerds, pale, weak me.

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