For today’s writing prompt, “Almost,” I thought I would offer up something from a work-in-progress. It’s a romance–the woman is nouveau riche and the man, while his family name is respected, is broke as a pauper. The woman has a dark secret–she is dying of cancer–and she knows the man, Ethan Dyle, is only trying to marry her for her money. But Patricia Anders has her own secret habit of disguising herself as “Susan Louise,” pretending she is someone else to escape the worries and realities of her life. Through various misadventure, Patricia Anders (“Susan Louise”) and Ethan Dyle fall in love. Of course Ethan Dyle has no idea Susan Louise is only a disguise.
This is the scene of his proposal.
He didn’t know how he had the courage. It was a prompting outside of himself. There in the bitter cold with his hat on her head and the stark winter sun shining fierce, he lowered himself on his knees. The earth felt harder than he expected, like stone. It made him weaker, that unexpected discomfort. The too-bright sky made him squint if he raised his head.
Let it not be said that I did not enjoy Gabrielle Zevin’s The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry. I did enjoy it. In fact, I only write reviews if I hate or love a book, and I very much hated and loved The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry.
In the wizarding world of Harry Potter, we are always told to value muggles but they do not seem to occupy a prominate role in proving themselves valuable. J.K. Rowling’s series is a favorite of Wallie’s, and he only wishes she had given the muggles more time to express themselves before (if not defend themselves from) prejudice, and occupy an equal space. The following sketch is the beginning of a two-part investigation into whether or not muggles can actually stand in a room full of wizards.
Inside stepped two common folk.
They were certainly common.
The wife was a little, light thing, black-haired and fair. She was evidently a stranger to that home. She shrank close against her husband and held so tightly to his arm that her knuckles were white. He held her close in turn, as he could. She was more behind than beside him. It wasn’t fear for herself that provoked her; they could all see she was heavily pregnant.
The truth of the matter is, in addressing this confessional prompt—that is, the call to describe a time when you were furious out of your senses—Wallie, my Friend, and I were unwilling to think beyond acknowledging that we had perhaps known anger once, prior to evolvement.