Yellow Violets

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A shortened version of the introduction to the book I'm trying to write. It's, unsurprisingly, quite insular but observational at the same time.

Submitted: July 18, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 18, 2012




Despite all affection and despite all curiosity, there’s something that remains to be found- a completeness that can only really be found by two separate people rather than by one pair. Without this completeness pairs cannot exist you see. Sure, it’s possible for them to exist in the barest sense of the word, but to really exist, grow and bloom, direction is needed. In a forest, there is competition for sunlight.

Once, I picked all the petals from a tulip and kept them in a little box. I cut my hair and scattered it to the wind to give something back. The feeling afterwards was an empty feeling but devoid of remorse. Remorse is something to be petrified of, to avoid. I wonder when other people should feel remorseful and it makes me sad. Nothing makes me sad like knowing people feel remorse. In life people don’t tend to get second chances. Everybody knows it’s true but nobody realises it.

My father is a mysterious man. He’d lead me through life and yet I’ve never met him, or even spoken to him. I can see his trail, though. It’s a blustery trail full of dead leaves and bumpy roots. Like all trails, it leads to the same place; adulthood. Mother says I should follow my dreams. I’d rather achieve them.

Would you believe me if I said I knew we were going to have this conversation? I know what I’m going to say, but I still pause as if thinking. I know what you want but I’m not sure why and it’s possible that you won’t understand it anyway. After all, to you I’m an empty box. Everyone is an empty box to you. I’ll have you know this box is full to the brim with interesting and uninteresting pieces of fluff. Beautiful they are to some people.

I know what you’re thinking, and don’t pretend you aren’t. The answer is no, I’m not back on it. Why do people keep asking? I guess trust isn’t something that comes easy. I’ll tell you the story, but you can’t interrupt me. In fact, interrupt me. At least that means you’re listening. You won’t learn anything but it’ll make me feel good about myself.

Where shall I begin? I guess at the start. Well, there was a boy. Not in that way. By his side I remained, quiet. Unimposing. Relaxed. We’d talk quietly about silly things and I could tell he felt it too. Other people were too real, but not this boy. I didn’t know what he’d come out with next and he didn’t know what I’d say next. Chalk and cheese is a phrase too often penned. More like violet and yellow, we were. Both have something about them and they go together perfectly interestingly.

It’s a shame he had to go away. I’m not sure I’ve been the same since.

© Copyright 2018 Jimmy Spindle. All rights reserved.

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