Evelyn posted a compelling piece of writing called To Nothing Special, With Love finishing with: “I’m looking for some help. I’m at a loss. I put this story down, hoping for someone to feel what happens next…”
I was tempted to write something in return, but was scared shitless because Evelyn writes so incredibly well and I felt I could not keep up. Yet, the story beckoned, and so I wrote a continuation in the hope of inspiring her to continue with the fabulous story she started. Please do yourselves a favour and read her bit first so that this is in context:
To Nothing Special, With Love – A Continuation
His large back faced her; his enormity a black cut-out against the silver light of the full moon, casting a shadow that fell to her feet.
“You came,” his voice was the rumble of an unseen train passing through a frightened earth. Hands deeply plunged into pockets of the jacket he wore, he did not move to look at her.
“Why?” Leslie asked.
“Because you listened. You are late, however.” There was no admonition in his tone.
“I know. It called me earlier, during the afternoon when I was at the diner with friends of mine, but I ignored it.”
“Do you know what it is?” only his head turned so that he could glance at her over his shoulder, the white of his eyeball lit by the moon.
Leslie knew what it was. Even if she had never read about it in any of the books she had devoured during her famished lifetime, or heard her friends mention it year after year as though it was a secret club she would never be invited to join, or even if she had never seen films about it in which the heroine dripped like chocolate over the bare skin of her bronzed lover, Leslie would have known what it was.
“Love,” she whispered with such desperation that when the rasped word struck the ear of the large, dark man it caused him to flinch.
“Are you ready to let go of everything you have ever known?” he asked. “Will you endure pain throughout the entirety of your fragile body brought on by your thoughts alone, pain that will drive you to your knees, that will contort your back into odd shapes as you pray to a God you do not believe in? Are you willing to trade your sanity for a madness in which your decisions will cause you nothing but greatest shame were you to know now what those decision are to be?”
“Yes,” Leslie pleaded. “Yes. Give me the thrill of mountaintops and the depths of oceans. I want to sing and dance and trip and fall and bruise myself. I want to be young again. I want to be so old I don’t care anymore. This is the only thing I am sure of in this shit life of mine. I want to feel. To feel like a human being.”
Leslie pawed the tears away from her eyes, angry at herself for crying at such a time, and then choked on the snot she snorted.
“He is in danger,” the silhouette spoke. “He needs you, but does not know it yet. Go now. Seek him and save yourselves.”
The unknown force overcame her again, compelling Leslie to turn from the clearing and to run into the darkest heart of the forest where she knew he would be.