Glass and The Book

A long while back, I wrote two short stories (both at different times). I guess I find inspiration in hardships, tears and upsets but I do write happy things as well, I promise. It is just time to let these two out onto my lovely blog, and post something happy and upbeat again. I think expressing yourself is extremely important and I'm glad I've always had writing to do so. Symbols and metaphors are literally some of the most wonderful coping methods, even if only I understand them. These are dedicated to the people I asked to read the first drafts and never did, thanks for everything.
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Glass

           

Raining outside, she walked into the café he had taken her to all those years ago to meet his family.  Glancing around at the beautiful mahogany tables, warm ambience and the colourful customers she placed her order, found that little booth by the fireplace and then sat sipping her coffee silently as the rain fell outside. She loved the feel of the warm heat radiating and soothing her wet skin. Currently, there was a horrendous storm. The rain fell hard against the window when she came to the realization she needed to get some work done.  She began to pull her laptop from her bag and finish writing her paper. She put in one earphone and turned on a soft melody to help her concentrate.

            She had been working for a while when she heard a tap on the window behind her. Turning to see what the noise was, she saw no one. She caught a glimpse of the man she loved just as she was about to return to her work. She took a double take, realizing she couldn’t waste anytime, she immediately sprung up from her seat and left everything behind but that red coat she always wore this time of year. He was all she could think of.  She ran through the crowded street, the back of his head just peaking through the swarm of people.  She began pushing and shoving her way through countless angry persons, each of them reacting with annoyed expressions.

“WATCH IT!” a tall man said as she accidentally sent his umbrella flying half way across the sidewalk.

            Not caring about what the man said she kept up her pursuit to race to him.  He turned a sharp corner and she stood standing, searching to see where he went. After a mere thirty seconds she spotted him again, heading for the nearest bus stop. Many people in between them still she continued to push through the crowd.

            Finally, he stopped and she caught up to him. She stood directly behind him, shaking, him waiting for the bus. She reached out her arm to tap his shoulder only to find a barrier between them. She banged against the glass furiously, kicking and screaming trying to get his attention. He does not hear her, nor does he budge.  The rain begins to hit the glass, pooling down violently. She drops to her knees and bangs on the glass more, now crying.

            The bus came and he slowly walked onto it.  She screamed his name as the doors shut. He is gone.

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The Book

For a long time Anna had walked the same street every Tuesday night. The aged trees and dim streetlights created the perfect atmosphere for her. She would always stop for her tea, greeting the barista she had made acquaintance with and continue her evening stroll. Each nightfall was more or less the same for Anna as she took these walks. She saw the same faces, watched the sun go down as she rounded the same corner and passed exactly twenty-two doors before returning to her apartment.

            Soon came an evening that was not quite the same as all the others she had experienced. Dusk began to fall outside, so Anna took her bag off the hook by the door and walked around to the elevator. When she got outside she began her walk. Anna passed the small family owned deli, the little bridal boutique and soon made her way into her only pit stop every Tuesday. The bell on the door rang as Anna strode in towards the counter. She then placed her order, picked up her usual tea, added two sugars and headed back out into the warm breeze of an August evening.

As she rounded the last corner before returning home Anna spotted a twenty-third door. Knowing that never had this door graced her eyes before; she became intrigued by its presence. She had rounded this corner so many times, not once seeing it. It was a tall wooden door with large brass handles. Anna grasped onto one of the handles, half curious and half scared. She stepped in, absorbing the room around her. The floorboards creaked as she slowly paced through the small entryway. It was a bookstore. Above her hung a dim light fixture which casted eerie shadows through out the room. Lining all the walls were thousands of texts. Authors and titles swarmed around Anna, some she knew and some she did not. This all captivated her and she scanned the walls to find something to take home.

After quite some time Anna found a book wedged in on the shelf that had no writing on the spine. She curiously pulled it out and examined it. She turned it onto its back and saw nothing but deep brown leather. Scanning the front, she saw that the book did indeed have a title.

Anna

Thinking nothing but mere coincidence Anna decided to purchase the book, the gold lettering of her name was enough to convince her of its worthiness. She walked over to the counter and looked around for someone to cash her out.

“Hello?” Anna called into the back.

An elderly woman emerged from behind a curtain draped over the doorway directly behind the cash register. She gave an uncanny smile that sent shivers through Anna’s body.  

“How can I help you, dear?” The old woman said as she neared to the counter.

Anna placed the book on the counter.

“How much for this?” Anna inquired.

“No cost, take it, darling.” The old woman smiled.

Anna looked at her puzzled. Before she could say anything the old woman disappeared into the back again. Anna called again for her but received no reply. After waiting a couple of minutes she decided to leave with the book. Anna walked outside, continuously glancing back at the store as if it might disappear.

Anna hurried home. When she got there she quickly hung her bag up and walked over to her small desk to start reading the book. She sat in her chair, raising her feet upon the desk and placing the book on her laps. She slowly traced the golden letters reading her name on the front cover.

“Anna,” she whispered to herself.

She ran her hand over the cover, opening it to the first page.

Write your heart’s desire,

And what you see you will acquire.

If what you write is not to be,

Then that is which you will not see.

Anna thought this strange; she turned the page and saw no further ink. Each page following this was completely blank. Anna skeptically picked up a pen and then pressed it to the page.

“New desk,” Anna wrote, testing the book.

Suddenly the wooden mass beneath her feet grew into a beautiful mahogany piece. She laid her palm on the desk, blinking a couple of times to see if it was just an illusion.

Anna was amazed. She pressed the pen to the page again.

“A Porsche,” she scribbled underneath her first desire.

Suddenly a set of keys formed on her desk. Anna stared at them in complete shock. She grabbed the keys and walked over to her window overlooking the parking lot. She pressed the horn button on the set and saw the headlights of her Porsche illuminate the night as it sounded its horn. Amazed she ran back to her book and stared at it in amazement. She flipped through the pages with vast possibilities of what she could acquire roaming her mind. She suddenly thought of the beautiful home she had dreamed to own one day.

“A large home,” Anna wrote in the book.

The ground underneath Anna shook. The walls started to expand and Anna clung to her desk. She watched in awe as her entire surrounding changed. A staircase formed behind her, leading up to a beautiful hallway of rooms. She looked around in astonishment. She was in what she thought to be her office. The desk she previously written down was in front of her. She looked beyond the desk and saw large paintings that she had admired as a child. The long drapes covering the windows sent her into a state of bewilderment.

Anna got up and decided to look around her future. She took her time walking through the hallways with the book still in hand. She saw various rooms containing her wildest dreams. Anna found a library with all the authors she had admired since childhood, a small home theatre and a breath-taking closet. She walked down the stairs and sat in her dining room.

She laid the book onto the table and began to contemplate the life ahead of her. One day she was to have such a lavish lifestyle; she would spend her days lounging by her pool, nestled in her library or drinking her favorite tea. She saw these days panning out before her and the future’s possibilities tugged at Anna’s heartstrings. She then pulled out the book once more, knowing that there was one thing to complete this life she had dreamed of. She pictured it appearing before her, centering the table.

“Thirteen dark red roses,” Anna wrote.

She waited ten minutes. The roses did not appear.

“Thirteen dark red roses,” Anna wrote again.

She searched the entire house checking each surface where the roses could have appeared. They were nowhere to be found.

Anna started to sob and she fell to her knees beside the desk. Anna tossed the keys aside and tore the book apart. The walls around her dropped, her keys disappeared, the desk returned to its original state and Anna sat there staring at the remains of the book.  The future to Anna held everything she hoped for. The future for Anna held nothing she hoped for.