Are you laughing at me? Leezeeanne asked, after going arse over tea kettle into a snow bank.
Whap, a snow ball exploded on Mallard’s parka, sending shards of snow down his neck.
The first Christmas. Borrowed cabin 20 miles from nowhere.
In the woods, the silence of snow falling, with a billion stars above, they discovered the depth of their love.
Mallard, far from a romantic sentimentalist, still presented Leezeeanne two exquisite orchids.
“One is definitely laughing at you,” he chuckled.
The term “couple” seemed out of sync; they were one not two.
Especially on the river. Mallard loved working in tandem with Leezeeanne.
Hearing her shouts of joy as they ran a rapids.
When the white water seemed too angry, she would sing Indigo Girl songs. “Pacifying it” she laughed.
“I know,” she said, shaking her head. “Mallard, for you, the river must be a challenge, a dragon, a monster.”
(word count 146)
Characters have a habit of hanging around with my muse; therefore, like the episodic novels of the 19th century, this story is playing itself out in bits
* A “white water” melodrama (March 23, 2015) introduced the characters Mallard and Leezeeanne, and a disastrous white water rafting experience. I received comments in favour of leaving the ending it as it was. The reader could decide how things turned out. Others thought the story could continue.
* The story continued in “White Water Melodrama, Part II: Remembories (March 30, 2015) is Mallard’s remembories of Leezeeanne. I committed myself to reaching a conclusion . . . sometime.
The last time I visited Mallard and Leezeeanne was: Leezeeanne’s buffalo in the flood is the tale told from Leezeeanne’s perspective (April 13, 2015).
Think of this entry as a prequel.
Written for Mondays Finish the Story, April 27, 2015