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2nd December
posted by amber

Dear writers – here’s the first line for you to be inspired by this week.

“This was the first time he’d ever lied to her.”

Send in your stories as a comment to this post, and I’ll put them up on the website.

1 Comment

  1. Darryl Hurd

    This was the first time he’d ever lied to her.
    She sat, quietly, holding the picture of them, taken by a shopkeeper in a public market they had visited while overseas two years ago. Their smiles, and the way they held each other close spoke of a deep love; a sense of strong commitment.
    She lifted her gaze from the rustic, hand hewn picture frame bought in a market in Bangkok that held the picture, unconsciously stroking it while she looked, unfocused, out the large picture window at their huge, well-manicured back yard.
    “You know,” the soft, comforting voice of her best friend, started quietly, “what he did was, well-“
    “I know!” Marisha’s voice suddenly interrupted her friend, cutting her off in mid thought.
    Silence fell noiselessly.
    The curtains fluttered in the strengthening wind that blew through the screened door.
    Marisha stood up and walked to the door, opened it, and walked outside. The breeze grabbed playfully at her flowered summer dress, and tussled her long, brown hair. Walking to the railing of the large, multi-tiered deck, she leaned her elbows on the top rail, and stared out across the yard.
    “He planted that rose bush for me,” she said woefully, “told me that as long as it lived, so would our love.”
    Her friend stood close by, having followed Marisha outside, and stood near, but not too near as to be imposing.
    “Never in a million years,” Marisha stated, her voice quieting to a whisper, “Never…”
    The wind danced through the yard, whirling and swirling past and over the rose bush; the flowers nodded their scented heads.
    “Marisha,” her friend began, cautiously, in case she were cut off once again, “If I had known…”
    Her friend swallowed, her eyes teared up, and she quickly wiped them on her sleeve, trying to hide her emotions from her friend. She cleared her throat, and sniffed lightly.
    “If any of us had known, we would have let you know. We would have helped you face this…this…”
    Words escaped her.
    “This ‘situation’,” Marisha finished her thought, emphasizing her word with well-placed quotation marks.
    Her friend burst into tears.
    Marisha moved towards her, and hugged her sobbing friend.
    “You know, Monica,” Marisha said, her voice wavering, “I could have handled it if there was someone else.”
    Monica nodded.
    Marisha looked at the picture she still clung tightly to, and looked longingly at the man that held her in the picture.
    “But not once did he tell me that he had cancer…”

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