Quite some years ago, a lot of years, I ended up writing a short story by hand. What had happened ?
There was a girl … of course. Her name was Kim. Actually I had been crazy about her curly hair and starry blue eyes for months. I was at her feet. Myself I was only 22 at that time. We both liked going out to town on weekday nights when bars where empty and dark. One night we ended up kissing each other. I was in heaven.
Not long after that kiss, maybe a few days later, she told me she liked me but had no intention of starting a real relationship with me for different reasons. We were in the middle of winter and she broke my heart. That night I stayed up and started to drink a bottle of whiskey which I conveniently had nicked from my fathers liquor cabinet . I was broken and quite tipsy. I started writing her a letter of what had happened after she had said the two letter word : n o .
The story was totally fictitious and filled with hilarious happenings which had happened the night after she had turned me down. I remember parts of the story, in a bar I end up in a discussion with the bartender and after a while I discover myself on the floor with a lot of bottles. I have amusing encounters with halfdrunken nightcrawlers like myself and in the end I end up in a graveyard chased by large dogs and find a gravestone which says Kims Heart. The whole thing described quite an absurd and comical drunken adventure.
Later , the next week , I gave her the story to read. A couple of days later she told me she had loved reading it and had had quite a few good laughs and that was it… We never kissed again, after a while we lost touch of each other but in myself I had discovered a love of writing.
When was it that you remember that you found yourself writing ?