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Man In The Room: The Thirty Day Bucket List

Novel By: Victoria Anne Marie
Religion and spirituality


Looking a a Collaboration on this. The story is mostly going unfinished.

A woman, on the last day she lives, who goes back and describes the past thrity days where she fulfilled a bucket list, and found love, God, and a better life. She relies on an imaginary friend called "The Man In The Room" who is her ideal until she meets Meadow. There's not a huge development on his story yet.

This thing needs a lot of editing. Typos, grammatical errors, curing boredom, etc. And any advice is appreciated. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 3 4 5 6 8

Submitted:Apr 26, 2013    Reads: 2    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I hovered over the mixer like a dazed fox as it stirred the cookie dough. I wanted to be alone. Alone, for once wih my thoughts and feelings because I relished in the freedom to be able to do so. It didn't change anything. I'd watch the dough whir in the mixing bowl and he'd be in the corner of the room, just off from the kitchen. An almost dark and transparent figure resulting of a thought being held back with as much resistance as possible. He'd never let me be alone, no matter how I hard I wished I wanted him to.

He was leaning over the island now with me, I saw him much clearer out of the orner of my eye. Peachy flash and dark hair, bent over and straing at me. Patiently waiting for me to do something, anything. He got more corporeal and real as I gave up on pushing him away. I said, "When I was a little kid, my family and I..went went in my Grandma's backyard on the forth of July," I looked at him and smiled pleasantly, "There was an old washer and dryer there, neither of them worked, all banged up. Anyway, we all crowded around as they fiilled them with fireworks, setting them off into the sky. For a little kid, that was amazing. Unusual, but amazing." It must truly be my life's work to tell him a childhood memory about home at least once a night.

He said, " I think they're done."

"Yeah," Who isn't done these days? I wish I could say that he didn't know how I felt, but he does. He's a part of me now and could even hear my thoughts clear as day."

"How was Church?" He grinned widely, "Meet anyone?"

"No."

He said, "When?" I planned on being too busy making dough balls to listen but things just didn't happen that way. I looked at him with a nervous smile and waited for him to say something else. I said, "When what?"

"When are you going to let someone in? You're a wonderful woman Isn't keeping yourself company a little dull?"

"I found a way around that," I smiled and licked a morsel of dough from my ring finger.

"What way?"

I said, "You." He usually wasn't so pressing with the questions, so I had to wonder what was going on."

"I'm asking because you're lonely. I'm not enough."

"I'm fine having you now. I don't need to date anybody. Besides, I'm too much for anyone to handle," I sighed, "I'm different."

` "All women are complicated."

"I overthink things, I eat like crazy, I like having a deep and vivid imagination, I'm too quiet, too shy..must I go on?"

" I bet someone out there wants that," He said.

"I can't win with you, can I?" Nope. Not while he's the handsome subconscious figment that's relaying everything I've been trying to push away. I put the cookies in the oven and looked back at him as if I'd just become extremely tired in the short time we've been together in this kitchen. He was still waiting for me to say something.

I walked around the island and leaned over, making sure I was directly across from him and digging my elbows into the ston countertop. "I can't help if someone comes along or not, you know," I said.

"But you can let someone in. You're world is not so private that someone doesn't want to be apart of it." Yes, I couldn't win it against him, he always hadme beat. It's why he's the ideal. the kind of person I want to be around all my life. The only difference is that he's not real. He isn't here.

"Nobody's coming for me. No Prince Charming," I smirked.

"Did you try Praying about it,"

"Well, yeah. Let's just say the results don't feel as immediate as I wished. How many nights of Prayer would it take for the onenight to come when I finally fall in love? I mean, I know God loves me and all but what's taking so long? Is it me."

"Yes and no."

"Huh?"

"Yes, because you don't believe. You Pray but you don't have any Faith in it especially with your impatience, and believe me, I know you. And no, because God doesn't come on your time, but He's always on time. He's never late.

"You're a Preacher now?"

"Just saying. God didn't forget you. You have to help yourself."

I shook my head with a smile. I wasn't going to disregard what he said, if anything, it sunk well into my heart and I believed in giving his advice a shot, but I had a good reason for wanting to change the subject. The air was beginning to feel like a Chapel, all quiet and peaceful. That's the word for it, for what he said, peaceful.

"I need to tell you something," I said.

"Go on."

"Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night."

He said, "I remember."

"I grabbed my black composition notebook and just started writing down this weird list of stuff to do. Big stuff, small stuff. I was Praying about a change in my empty life for a while and this was my chance to make a change. Thirty days. Thirty days of fulfilling my dreambig and small. Let's see how my life ends up you know? After, I stopped and grinned widely with a playful stare into his icy blue eyes, "After I did, I was up all night thinking about them."

He asked, "What are they?" He slowly rocked back and forth gently, smiling and eagerly waiting for me to answer. another thing Ikept him around for, he always wanted to hear what I had to say, no matter what it was.

I said, "Are you sure you want to here it? it's pretty long." as was his way. he silently nodded for me to continue.

"I want to Propose to..myself."

"What?"

I said, "Let me finish," and lightly patted his bicep with a sigh, "I want to dance in rose petals like a princess, um..bake cookies, of course. Like we're doing now. Oh! And I want to make ice cream sandwiches. I've never done that before," He couldn't help snickering at me, not like he thought I was joking, but my simplicities were his favorite thing about me, "What?" He burst into louder giggles and at my expense, no less.

"What kind of a list is this?"

"Is that rhetorical? Because it's mine and I want to continue," I playfully stuck my tongue out at him like a little girl and we laughed heartily, "Now, I want to have brownies and martinis in a martini glass, oh, and had brownies and kool aid in a bubble bath, go to Lock brdige in Paris, by an 18th century apartment to restore while I'm there, Sing in my living room, Let my hair blow in the wind as a carnival ride swoops down at me..."

"Wait, what does that mean?"

"Oh, I did it once. It was called TheArm. It had a long aroun and it would spin in a circle with a vehicle attached with like forty seats. Andyou'd go up..and come down. I stood just under it as it was coming down from the top of the circle and a huge breeze would rise and lift my hair in the air. Kinda magical."

He said, "Huh."

"Moving on, I want to write a film while I'm on a plane, screenplay, that is, "I cleared my throat, "Window shop, roast marshmallows in a fireplace, I want someone to say 'no, don't go' when i get off the phone with them.."

"Why?"

"Used to happen a lot when I was a teenager. I didn't really think i was that intereasting to begin with, haha," I looked past him at the stove. I've got a few minutes before they're done, "You know, taste aside, if they're edible, I'll consider them a success," He rolled his eyes at mebecause he knew I really meant that.

I said, "Fall asleep on a movie, attend a film premiere, cook a southern style dinner.."

"For who?"

"Shh," I said and giggled lightly again with amusement, almost as much directed at my list as it was for him, "Fall in love." I stopped and looked at him silently. He gave me a knowing look and smiled softly. He reminded me of a perfect Haiku written in the rain amidst a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. the only reason I didn't basklonger was that the oven went off.

"God," I said, I ran around the island and grabbed the red apple printed mitts from the stone counter by the stove, "Not burnt, I hope." I gently pulled them out and sighed with relief that they were'nt a massacre of partially cooked dough or charred remains. I quickly looked back at the island and he was gone. Guess I'm cooling them alone. I leaned back over the empty island counter. If I wasn't so busy talking to myself, I could have cleaned it while I was cooking like I usually do. Now I just look plain messy, Thank God nobody notices.

I said, " I want to sing with a microphone from the top of my stairs, I want to give out Christmas presents to orphans, have picnic in the park," I quietly ran my fingers over the bumps and grooves of the stone slab my island was built with, I sighed with loneliness, "Always gone when I want you, here when I want to be alone, aren't you? Well, I want to have a bonfire on the beach, alone, take a barge ride in Paris and watch nighttime fireworks, freeze chocolate, lay in a Hammock under the moon, listen to my mp3 player during a figure skating show so I can have my own soundtrack to their whimsical dancing across the ice. I want to go to Church a little more, thanks to a couple of today's events including Jonny's talk, plan my funeral and write a will, oh, and make a dying wish."

He said, "All done?" I looked around but I couldn't see him anywhere, just like a ghost.

"Yeah, I'm done," I answered nonchalantly and shrugged, "Come on, hang with me."

"You shouldn't be alone, do you see why?" I looked down at a dozen cookies. There was only one person in the room who was eating them, after all. That's kinda sad, isn't it? Making me face reality like that? Ah, poo. Why not? There some homeless men on the corner street who'd like some, too. And it's still daylight so it's a convenient walk. I took a few cookies and headed straight for my white leather couch, plopping down on it with a sunken thud.





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