TITLE: Blown to Smithereens
GENRE: Literary/Women's Fiction
And here is the white page. And here are the words. And here is the beginning of a story. There should be arrows pointing, here, here, and here. This here, this is the beginning. This here, this is where it starts. Black letters on white paper. This, here, the beginning of the end.
I begin in black and white for it is the only way I know how to begin. The only way I can tell how it ended. There was a phone call, yes. That really was the beginning of the end. But there it is -- there, the p h o n e. It doesn't ring on paper. It doesn't wake you at 3 in the morning. It's just a silent little word. So's ring. It could be anything, ring. It could be the gold band I still wear. It could be a sound, add a w and it could be what I do with my hands when I don't keep them busy. So let's keep it that way. No onomatopoeia. No rrrrrringing or wringing. Certainly no more 3 am phonecalls. Just letters, black letters, words, black words, on white paper.
Actually, there will be no more phone calls at all. There are so many reminders. The little things. His name and number still in my phone. I need a new phone. I only want to add words, black words, on white paper. I don't want to erase. Except the ring.