Thirty Miles AwayA Story by The Scholar
Another of those pesky 200-word sentences. They're actually rather fun, to be perfectly honest. Liked my last one better though. :/
Racing through the turbulent streets of her own mind, and wishing -- wishing on the first star that had appeared just there on the horizon, and wishing on everything that could possibly be considered eligible to wish on -- for the boy who lived over thirty miles away and only saw her on weekends at the gym to turn his thoughts toward her just once and perhaps decide he missed her, Lessa, stranded in her cramped room, and sitting on an office chair facing a little window, picked up a ballpoint pen from the corner of her desk and began to subconsciously scribble words onto a lined sheet of notebook paper with the intent of writing that same boy a letter, which would perhaps, one day, in a very, very long time, when she was old and he was old, and neither of them had thought of each other for many a year, be delivered by an impatient, rude-mannered mailman to the boy’s -- or man’s, by then -- house for him to read and finally realize that all these years she had loved him from thirty miles away in the little window of her cramped room, and yet had never gathered up the courage to tell him and find out whether or not he too, loved her in return.
© 2012 The Scholar
About“We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are MEMBERS OF THE HUMAN RACE. And the human race is filled with PASSION. And medicine, law, business, engi.. more..