For Mel
This was my best piece in my whole writing folio assingment, and would you believe it was a Romance story! Nobody died, had a cynical behaviour or had a horrible life. It was just plain ROMANCE!
Enjoy the finished product of Dragging Suitcases
Dragging the last suitcase upstairs proved to be more difficult to achieve than the rest of the bags. Probably because, once again, spouse wasn’t there to help me. I could just tell my booty was positively sticking up in the air too high to be appropriate or even sexy. Not that I cared. This suitcase was full of old editions, manuscripts and every other paperwork needed for my home office, which I decided to use when writing my new series. Yes, this suitcase needed skills to be pulled safely upstairs to the new apartment picked ever so carefully by me and not by spouse. This meant two things, booty sticking up, and respect points lost for passers by who don’t offer to help!
When I reached the apartment I took a moment to check my surroundings. The purple walls, chosen by me…and not spouse, and the crisp white carpet that I’m sure won’t stay white for long, especially when spouse comes home from his tour of England.
Thinking I was alone I started to sing while setting up the new office owned by me, and not by spouse. While sitting cross-legged on the floor categorising pages humming spouses tune I heard a snigger come from outside
“Man you sure can sing!” the voice sounded behind me. Embarrassed I turned to point out I was humming not singing to find spouse with his suitcase in his hands “maybe you should be the lead singer in my band and not Roy” I bowled him over with my pouncing hug and snogged him all over the face until I was satisfied he was red all over with my lipstick
“You’re home early! I thought London was a week tour not a...they kicked you out didn’t they?” spouse’s band liked making scenes at their concerts. Trying to make money yet losing more as the crowds were more pleased. How that makes sense I shall never know. I’m not into music, that’s spouse’s job.
“Well…there was a motorbike in the changing room” his face crimsoned up when I had my hands on my hips
“And you rode it on stage!?”
“And then off the stage” he squeaked back
“MICHAEL!—
Well what did you expect? They loved it!”
“Except for the people who were meant to be giving you the money, right?”
“Well yeah but…they’re gay babe” he dumped his bag on the couch and picked up one of my old manuscripts from my first novel
“This your book?”
“Are you ever going to read it Michael?”
“Probably not. Are you ever going to come to my concerts?”
“If you stop riding motorcycles off stages I might. I’m too young to die being run over by you”
“You know, I wouldn’t kill you that way babe.” he joked kicking back and flicking through the pages.
When we both settled into the new apartment we fell under such an organised routine it seemed nothing could go wrong. Our time spent together was mostly at night when he transcribed his score sheet for new songs on his guitar at one end of the bed, while I sat, legs resting on his knee, with the laptop editing my work. During the day I was mostly stuck in my office while he was out rehearsing with the boys, so night time was dubbed “special time”. Not to mention the sex. Since him coming home early and the excitement of our new apartment we couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other! Which, in the end, was the problem…
“Do you find you’re content with the little things in life?” I whispered to him one night. He wrapped his arms around my stomach and pulled me closer to him
“Of course I am. Sure we’re not the richest people in the universe and the apartment is tiny. But, I like the apartment being small and I like the small amount of money we have. Makes me appreciate the little things”
“Oh…but you know, we’ll get back on our feet. I mean, your band will get a few good gigs and I’ve almost finished my second book…” spouse could sense my uneasiness and sat up to face me
“What did you do?” he sighed, its not that anything was wrong, he knew that or I wouldn’t have approached the matter so calmly
“Well…I’m pregnant”
When I reached the apartment I took a moment to check my surroundings. The purple walls, chosen by me…and not spouse, and the crisp white carpet that I’m sure won’t stay white for long, especially when spouse comes home from his tour of England.
Thinking I was alone I started to sing while setting up the new office owned by me, and not by spouse. While sitting cross-legged on the floor categorising pages humming spouses tune I heard a snigger come from outside
“Man you sure can sing!” the voice sounded behind me. Embarrassed I turned to point out I was humming not singing to find spouse with his suitcase in his hands “maybe you should be the lead singer in my band and not Roy” I bowled him over with my pouncing hug and snogged him all over the face until I was satisfied he was red all over with my lipstick
“You’re home early! I thought London was a week tour not a...they kicked you out didn’t they?” spouse’s band liked making scenes at their concerts. Trying to make money yet losing more as the crowds were more pleased. How that makes sense I shall never know. I’m not into music, that’s spouse’s job.
“Well…there was a motorbike in the changing room” his face crimsoned up when I had my hands on my hips
“And you rode it on stage!?”
“And then off the stage” he squeaked back
“MICHAEL!—
Well what did you expect? They loved it!”
“Except for the people who were meant to be giving you the money, right?”
“Well yeah but…they’re gay babe” he dumped his bag on the couch and picked up one of my old manuscripts from my first novel
“This your book?”
“Are you ever going to read it Michael?”
“Probably not. Are you ever going to come to my concerts?”
“If you stop riding motorcycles off stages I might. I’m too young to die being run over by you”
“You know, I wouldn’t kill you that way babe.” he joked kicking back and flicking through the pages.
When we both settled into the new apartment we fell under such an organised routine it seemed nothing could go wrong. Our time spent together was mostly at night when he transcribed his score sheet for new songs on his guitar at one end of the bed, while I sat, legs resting on his knee, with the laptop editing my work. During the day I was mostly stuck in my office while he was out rehearsing with the boys, so night time was dubbed “special time”. Not to mention the sex. Since him coming home early and the excitement of our new apartment we couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other! Which, in the end, was the problem…
“Do you find you’re content with the little things in life?” I whispered to him one night. He wrapped his arms around my stomach and pulled me closer to him
“Of course I am. Sure we’re not the richest people in the universe and the apartment is tiny. But, I like the apartment being small and I like the small amount of money we have. Makes me appreciate the little things”
“Oh…but you know, we’ll get back on our feet. I mean, your band will get a few good gigs and I’ve almost finished my second book…” spouse could sense my uneasiness and sat up to face me
“What did you do?” he sighed, its not that anything was wrong, he knew that or I wouldn’t have approached the matter so calmly
“Well…I’m pregnant”
Jinx xx
This was really good!! The last line kind of ends climatic - we're never given the spouse's impression (or the main characters for that matter) on the fact of a baby. i could really see this playing out in my head and i absolutely adore the title 'dragging suitcases' - suits the story superbly well!!! Very good work!!! Loved it!
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