I know enough of you for me

“I love you,” he said to her.

“No you don’t,” she batted back.

“What do you mean?”  He asked in confusion.

“You don’t love me.”

“But I do.  I just said it.  How could you possibly know if I loved you or not?”

“Because you don’t even know me.”

“I know you enough for me.”

Satisfaction

Satisfaction is simplicity.  Sleeping in.  Eating out.  Seeing someone you love.  These are simple and easily made to happen.  The greatest satisfaction for me is when I kiss your lips.  Undressing you and feeling your once covered flesh against my fingertips.  All of that plus the way you look at me.  You are my satisfaction.

This is hard

Just writing on the spot is kind of hard.  I guess it’s not supposed to be easy, if it was then everyone would do it.  Maybe I’ve got a ‘rose-colored glasses’ sort of thing going on because I think back and I have memories of the ideas flowing out like water.  Words blowing like a hard wind as I try to get them all down while they swirl.

Now it’s as if I’m standing in front of a wall and the wind and the water on on the other side.  I can hear the flow of the river and the whistle of the breeze but I can’t get to it.

But the point is to get it out, not to necessarily make it good right off the bat.  Something, at this point, is better than nothing.

 

He only knew her briefly but it was enough to want to know everything.  All of the ways she smiled and each different kind of breath she took.  She didn’t say much but she didn’t need to.  The few words she did use had an impact and it was like a blow to the head.

 

 

55 Fiction

I have a problem.  My problem is consistency.  My problem is focus.  Okay so I have two problems.  I could keep going but I don’t want to kick myself too much.

I have a hard time being able to write every day, for whatever reason.  Most of the time its my fault but sometimes it isn’t.  From that problem is a different problem; I need more practice writing.  So I thought I would try something simple at first and work my way up.  Hence 55 fiction.

This was an idea I was introduced to a few years ago where you write out an entire story but it has to be exactly 55 words.  Brevity is the soul of whit so, why not try it?

One of the other things I thought I could do was use these 55 word stories as outlines of my larger ideas.  Instead of keeping them stashed in a file with a few descriptors I could sum them up in a nice 55 word package to flesh out at a later point.

So, the following is my first go at 55 fiction on here:

Road Trip

We were in a car heading south.  The plan was to go to New Orleans, but it wasn’t the original plan.  The original plan involved beaches and the ocean in Mexico.  This was all so I could spend time with her, but it was hi-jacked.  We would get there though, I’d make sure of it.