story time chillins, gather round...
right, so even though typing first drafts on the computer sucks, i figure i'll give my first shot at my train story right here, right now. feedback is optional but appreciated.
I boarded the 6h30 train in Marseilles on a warm, lazy Saturday afternoon in May. The sun was already beginning to sink slowly towards the horizon, and everything was bathed in a rich golden light. I remembered how the water had sparkled in the Vieux-Port as I walked beside it before turning to go the four blocks up to Saint-Charles station. Once in the station I meandered though the milling bodies to buy a crêpe and nibbled at it delicately, letting the sugar coat my tongue after each bite. It was over far too soon. I still had ten minutes before boarding with nothing to do but stand. I hadn't brought anything for the hour-long trip to Arles. Eventually the crowd drifted towards the door, and I followed the push and found a window seat. I was tossing my bag with a change of clothes onto the rack above my seat when the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen appeared beside me. I grinned at her foolishly as I felt my knees weaken and I gestured to the seat next to mine. She looked at the seat and nodded. I quickly slid into my seat, and she sat beside me with a book in her hand. She glanced at me before she opened the book, and then began to read. I pretended to look out the window as the train wheels built up speed and carried us out of the city, but really I was watching her. As she read, her face softened and her lower lip sunk into a distracted pout. Her jeans fit loosely, but well, and sat just at her slender hips. Her slim torso was clothed in a pale blue tshirt with a v-neck that accentuated her graceful neck and dangling earrings. My surreptitious looks took in her oval-shaped face and statuesque nose. Her blue-green eyes flitted across the page of her book by an author I'd never heard of. Wispy brown strands of hair escaped from her bun, and she brushed them behind her perfect ear. Everything about her was soft and inviting and beautiful. My arm slid towards hers and brushed aginst it. A thrill went up my spine and I shivered a little, even in the heat of the afternoon. The train rocked and her arm bumped mine. She glanced up at me and smiled and closed the book. We regarded eachother for a moment and then my body surged towards hers. My hand pulled her face towards mine and we met with a kiss. It was beyond all reason and far away my rational mind was screaming at the impropriety. But it was drowned out when she started to kiss me back and blood roared through my ears. We stayed entwined for too short an eternity, and then the loudspeaker crackled. My beautiful girl jumped and pulled away slowly. She smiled apologetically at me as the train slowed and eventually stopped. She grabbed her book and rose. Then, with a slight sway in her step, she walked back out of my life and into the last orange rays of sun.
not too bad for a first draft i think.
j'aime ma belle fille
I boarded the 6h30 train in Marseilles on a warm, lazy Saturday afternoon in May. The sun was already beginning to sink slowly towards the horizon, and everything was bathed in a rich golden light. I remembered how the water had sparkled in the Vieux-Port as I walked beside it before turning to go the four blocks up to Saint-Charles station. Once in the station I meandered though the milling bodies to buy a crêpe and nibbled at it delicately, letting the sugar coat my tongue after each bite. It was over far too soon. I still had ten minutes before boarding with nothing to do but stand. I hadn't brought anything for the hour-long trip to Arles. Eventually the crowd drifted towards the door, and I followed the push and found a window seat. I was tossing my bag with a change of clothes onto the rack above my seat when the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen appeared beside me. I grinned at her foolishly as I felt my knees weaken and I gestured to the seat next to mine. She looked at the seat and nodded. I quickly slid into my seat, and she sat beside me with a book in her hand. She glanced at me before she opened the book, and then began to read. I pretended to look out the window as the train wheels built up speed and carried us out of the city, but really I was watching her. As she read, her face softened and her lower lip sunk into a distracted pout. Her jeans fit loosely, but well, and sat just at her slender hips. Her slim torso was clothed in a pale blue tshirt with a v-neck that accentuated her graceful neck and dangling earrings. My surreptitious looks took in her oval-shaped face and statuesque nose. Her blue-green eyes flitted across the page of her book by an author I'd never heard of. Wispy brown strands of hair escaped from her bun, and she brushed them behind her perfect ear. Everything about her was soft and inviting and beautiful. My arm slid towards hers and brushed aginst it. A thrill went up my spine and I shivered a little, even in the heat of the afternoon. The train rocked and her arm bumped mine. She glanced up at me and smiled and closed the book. We regarded eachother for a moment and then my body surged towards hers. My hand pulled her face towards mine and we met with a kiss. It was beyond all reason and far away my rational mind was screaming at the impropriety. But it was drowned out when she started to kiss me back and blood roared through my ears. We stayed entwined for too short an eternity, and then the loudspeaker crackled. My beautiful girl jumped and pulled away slowly. She smiled apologetically at me as the train slowed and eventually stopped. She grabbed her book and rose. Then, with a slight sway in her step, she walked back out of my life and into the last orange rays of sun.
not too bad for a first draft i think.
j'aime ma belle fille