Writing Fantasy

"Crumpled bits of paper1

Filled with imperfect thought2

Stilted conversations3

I'm afraid that's all we've got..."4

Sighing, Renee flipped a loose braid of curly light brown hair over her shoulder. Soft gold eyes stared longingly at the paper on the table before her. She wished, as she always did on Saturday mornings in the tea shop, for her words to be more than just a story... She wished there were a possiblility of a real conversation instead of just fantasies of someone appearing suddenly to sit and talk for hours with her. Sure her want fueled her stories into reality, created the book that had so far brought her through college thus far, but she didn't want the money from the published work... she just wanted it to be real - for one day. Scattered thought lay in wavering sentences across the page, a pencil laying nearby, untouched for nearly half and hour. The girl reached out to pick up her mug, take a small sip of the hot tea within and relax herself into the flow of writing... not that it would work.5

Whisps of hair dangle in front of sad golden eyes, she blows at them - only to have the return to plauge her. A pale thin hand reaches up to push the strands behind Renee's ear. The solitary opal ring on the middle finger of her right hand flashes lightly in the lamp light before being subdued as it's withdrawn back to the table. She just wanted to talk... but no one was there to talk with.6

"Say it loud, say it clear7

You can listen as well as you hear"8

Maybe she was going about this in the wrong way? Maybe she shouldn't sit inside Jasmine's Tea House sipping herbal tea with an idle pad of paper... maybe she should be looking somewhere else for a conversation? No... it had become almost natural for her to spend a few hours of each Saturday morning at the tea shop, doubt would not shake that tradition. She sighed and picked up her pencil again, goldn eyes boring holes into the paper that she seemed to blame for not relinquishing it's secrets. She placed pencil to paper and forced herself to write whatever she thought - scattered as her mind may be at the time.9

"So Don't yield to the fortunes10

You sometimes see as fate11

It may have a new perspective12

On a different day..."13

The nineteen year old reached out and picked up her mug, looked into the last sip of tea... just her first cup - she could stay for another, right? She looked at her watch... only an hour - she had quite a bit more time before she would succumb to despair for the day. She pushed her chair back, stood with mug in hand and walked back to the counter.14

"More hot water, dear?" The older woman behind the counter asked politely, and Renee nodded, handed the mug over and waited.15

She was clothed in tight jeans, dark denim low riders that sat comfortably just above her hips, and a dark green v-neck sweater over an oxford shirt. A thick chain was looped around her neck, but the pendant was tucked under her shirt and out of sight. She pushed glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and took the mug from the lady with a small smile. "There you are, dear."16

Renee retreated back to her booth by the window, watching as people passed without a sidewise glance in her direction... why would they anyway?17

"Say it loud, say it clear18

You can listen as well as you hear19

It's too late when we die20

To admit we don't see eye to eye"21

Renee took a sip of her tea as she looked back down towards her paper, now filled with thoughts and ideas she hadn't known had been burried behind that blockage she had just reciently gotten past. Now, of course, that she was thinking about writing again, the block went back up... just wonderful. She flipped the page and picked up her pencil again, placed it to the paper as if wishing it would move on it's own as the door sprang open.22

The pencil dropped and golden eyes flipped upward towards the newcomer, who move towards a table with a singualr passion she couldn't quite place. Her head dropped again to the paper. No need to bother the guy, he seemed busy - or at least looked as if he had a reason for being here, apart from herself. She couldn't help but let her eyes stray a bit in order to see what he was doing, and she smiled ever so slightly as he pulled out a camera - delicately, oh so delicately. Ah, a true photographer - who cared not only for the prints and photos he took, but for the tool that let him do it.23

Smiling she returned to her paper, and the smile soon faded at the blankness that returned. Nothing - no inspiration. She heard the man across the room order a cup of black coffee, heard the chair move as he sat and pulled out whatever it was he was working on. She sighed, placed her chin on the palm of one hand, her pencil held poised in the other. Her hair was falling in front of her face again, but since she was looking down it really didn't matter. The hand with the pencil came up and pushed her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose, ran along her hair line to push a few strands behind her ear and returned to the paper...24

Empty of all thought... damn. Why had she let them publish her book when it made her feel as if she had to get another one out? Especially now that she was finding she wanted to stay in college for the next few years of her life. A small sigh escaped her, and she forced words from her mind, thoughts feelings - anything to get her going... Though she heard the loud snaps of the shutter of a camera she ignored it - after all, it wasn't her business.25

"You don't mind if I photograph you, do you?"26

She turned, shocked into innocent confusion as she turned towards him... was he speaking to - click - her...? She blinked, golden eyes slightly confused and only a bit fearful. Why on earth would he want to photograph her? It seemed rather odd for him to ask after he had taken a shot (at least one that she knew of), it didn't really seem to matter one way or another.27

Her head shook slowly, slightly as if on it's own accord... it seemed she was having trouble getting past the fact that he was photographing her. She didn't think she minded, anyway - and her words eventually convinced herself of this fact, "I don't see any reason why I would..." She smiled lightly, hesitantly. 28

He nodded gratefully from behind the camera and began snapping away. He swayed to and fro, darting this way and that, once around the table, then twice, in order to find the perfect angle and taking shots all the while.29

As he took of rushing around her Renee hadn't quite caught up to the speed of things, and so didn't follow him... Her head flipped around in surprise, catching him over her shoulder as the shutter clicked again, braid draped back over her shoulder to rest just above her elbow. Whatever he had been searching for in his first pictures was lost after her permission was given. True, she certainly didn't pose for the camera, make sure her hair was perfect - in fact, for the first few pictures she looked absolutely surprised. As if someone had come and taken a picture after calling her name suddenly, catching her off guard and in a very odd way. After that it was a wary distance she put between her and the camera, she almost tried to avoid catching a full facial at first, looking where the camera was not most of the time before giving up and following the progress.30

When he took a break to adjust the light by shifting the window blinds she blinked in the sudden... calm that stole over the space for the moment until he spoke.31

"You're very photogenic, you know that?"32

His voice was very matter-of-fact and she was taken off guard again, thrown into one of the odd moments where she simply titled her head, blinked her eyes once or twice and looked utterly confused in the most innocent way imaginable. He returned seconds later, leanind forward to tip her head a certain way - perhaps to avoid glare in her glasses, perhaps just to change the perspective to make it look better with a quiet "turn your head that way just a bit." He was the photographer after all, right?33

"I'm Erik, by the way." His face was half hidden by the camera, but his hand shot out from behind the lense just as the shutter clicked shut and opened again, announcing the finish of the latest series of pictures.34

He introduced himself rather suddenly, and before she had really been able to process the entire situation she found herself shaking his hand in response. "Renee, nice to meet you." she stated simply with a little bashful smile that spoke volumes about her trying to figure out whether it was ultimately good or misfortunate that she actually had met him.35

He stood there for a moment, just watching her before pointing down at the page she had been writing on not long before. "So, what's that?"36

As he pointed to the blank page, but for a few words at the top now, she sighed lightly. "That," she said with exasperation, "is my greatest annoyance and my greatest reason..." she smiled lightly and flipped the first page back onto the top, filled with writing, seemingly random and unconnected thoughts that could or could not be meant to be seen together. 37

She glanced across the page, lost to the world for a moment as she ran her pencil across a few lines, flipped the page and connected earlier thoughts on the blank second page. She wrote about four lines afterward of the beginning of an idea, broke off and added a few points below it. Quick percise hand movements that produced letters that were ledgable despite her speed-writing... Quick notes, a few marks on the edge of the page - they obviously meant something to her, and she realized her mistake.38

Her eyes rose to look back at Erik again, a light blush rising to her cheeks as she caught him just lowering his camera... "Sorry" she apologized as she finished her note making, "I got lost in the words..." she flipped the pencil in her hand, around in a 360 degree circle before sticking it unconsiously behind her ear. 39

“No, please, continue. Pretend I'm not even here if you wish. I'm the one who imposed.” He hesitated for a moment and plopped down in the chair across from Renee.40

She smiled at his confession, his apology and shook her head. "Not even remotely correct, Erik. You see, in essence we have disturbed each other - for I am no longer writing for your sake, and against it." Her head tilted slightly, "A rather interesting concept, all things considered..."41

That was it then, the pencil was retrieved from behind her ear, placed to the page. Two slashes in the margin for a new thought and the words poured onto the page. A few lines in just over five seconds and her head rose again. Just a quick thought, easily picked up later. She had always enjoyed the thought of paradox in a single action - it made things much more complicated, and interesting as far as plot was considered.42

She watched as his eyes scanned the words she had written on the paper, his eyes halfway curious. “Are you a writer for a living?”43

Renee smiled slightly and nodded the affirmative. She looked down to her work - another few marks as she spoke and looked up again, "I hope to be... right now I'm finishing my college degree." She was silent for a moment, her eyes down towards the paper as the pencil glided lazily with her thoughts. When she spoke the next time it was to the paper, almost as if he were someone that happened to hear - but it wasn't necessarily to him as much as to time that she spoke. 44

"My first book, 'Selfimpossed Imprisionment' was published the day after my eighteenth birthday. After four years of working on it, it was my greatest triumph..." She motioned to the paper, "So many thoughts - no connections. A book always starts as such, but it'll come together before long... if I spend enough hours, enough thought, enough time with the words and the simple truths of life." her voice faded out as she drew circles on the page... another thought sprang to her mind and she continued writing on the 'paradox theory' as she automatically catorgorized it... 45

After all, everything goes in circles - when the end and beginning met, that was paradox...46

A pause, she stopped writing - reached out, picked up her tea and leaned back in her chair to take a small sip, flipping her messy braid back over her shoulder again. Golden eyes traced the ceiling in thought, the pencil tapping lightly on the page before her before rising and pointing in the air, as if connecting the unspoken thoughts within her mind on a screen of air. She had in essence done exactly as he had suggested - forgotten he was there, forgotten the world existed at all... it was just her, the thoughts, and a blank page - just like she liked. 47

She was so lost in thought that when Erik brough his camera up for a few more shots before watching her intently she barely noted his presence.48

After a bit of thought her hand dropped back to the paper, her pencil ready to write - but it seemed her mind had either gotten caught up on another thought, or had moved to something she hadn't ever touched before. Hearing her own words she almost found it... revolting. Here she was, a Sophomore in college waiting for a degree in english so that she could publish her second book. It almost seemed imperative that she get a degree before another book was to follow - it was logical, a step she wanted to - had to take.49

But what a waste! Why had she published a book so early in life? It set her appart as an early writer, yes - but if her style changed, if her life changed with her writing - that change could kill her career... or make it more sucessful. She didn't remember the number of copies sold, she hadn't paid much attention to the writing on the walls, nor to the paycheck - except that it kept her in college. It wasn't a best seller - that much she could remember... but at 18 no one really expected it to be.50

Four years writing a book she regretted publishing now - and her life suddenly changed. She had written for only herself - since the dawn of time... which for her meant the eve of her 14th birthday. Now all of a sudden she was trying to write for others... as if her words mattered to them - as if they cared - a nineteen year old aspiring writer with one on the shelf... who cared?51

... What had she done?52

Discust, pain, worry, and ultimate sadness crossed her face and lingered on the last emotion - the sadness that settled over her own features in order to remain who she was inside without having to show her struggle outwardly... Selfimpossed Imprisionment - she was the meaning of her words. So now that people had read them - did that entitle them to knowing her?53

The pencil she had been holding dropped onto the page and the hand that had been about to write returend to cradle the mug before her. Eyes shifted downward into the tea, swirling it with the motion and taking a sip, quietly, delicatly... "I have lost my way..." she whispered. It was a shock, a hurtful thorn that drove itself deeper into her heart each time she tried to pull it out. But it was truth, no matter how she looked at it, she had lost what she had once written for. And in that terrible silence, the only thing she promised herself was to return it - to find, once more, the solstice in her own words - for nothing but the sunshine and the knowledge that they were her's...54

And yet, at least she knew where to begin. For here, in this moment, she had felt something she hadn't experienced for a year... that need to write. She didn't have to force the words to come, they had - on their own, like they once had. The slightest of smiles lifted her features, lighted her eyes again with hope... "It is still obtainable, then... all I have to do -" her head shifted back up to watch him, revival evident in her small smile, "Is follow it."55

There was a moment of awkward silence as they stared at one another, Erik in awe of her sudden epiphany, and Renee for the simple fact that she had just no realized what she had said in front of a complete stranger. After what seemed like an eternity of time, Erik cracked a smile. Unable to help herself, Renee broke into laughter at the oddity of the moment.56

Erik joined in the laughter before she noticed and she began to think that perhaps, in some odd twist of fate, one of her stories could actually be coming true. It was odd, having someone to talk to, but oddly comforting - and even more inspiring than sitting alone in the small cafe had ever been. As their laughter subsided, Renee picked up her mug of tea and finished off the last couple of sips.57

For a moment there was silence as they looked at each other again, and Renee turned away suddenly, a blush rising to her cheeks at his gaze. In an instant the camera was up and the shutter rang in the silent room.58

A pause...59

"Could I buy you a cup of coffee?"60

The question was almost comical enough to make Renee start laughing again, until she realized what he was asking. Her blush deepening she smiled slightly. "I only drink tea." she said quietly.61

"Tea then." He countered quickly, "And lunch." he added lightly.62

His tone made Renee turn to meet his eyes, and she smiled at what she saw. There was no camera obscuring his face, jut sandy blonde hair shadowing two perfect green eyes. Laughing inwardly at the irony of it all, Renee nodded with a little chuckle.63

"That would be lovely, Erik."64