My new writing friend, Shelly, is participating in this blogfest. So, I figured, what the heck?
Hosted by Cally Jackson and Rachel Morgan, the object is to, in 300 words, create a scene that is, well.... tense.
Here's my go at it:
“I’m leaving Ollie,” Amanda said. She had a fleeting moment of satisfaction as Regan dropped the menu and looked at her with interest. Amanda half wondered if this was the reason she had decided to share this news with Regan – not to garner her sympathy, but her attention.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing.” Regan picked up the drink menu again, already disinterested in the subject. “It’s just, I’m not surprised.”
“My mom wasn’t surprised, either,” Amanda said. “She was surprised when I told her about the pregnancy. She actually asked me if Ollie is the father.”
Regan gave her a cold, calculating look. Defenseless, Amanda turned toward the window and gazed down at the miniature cars and pedestrians lost in the labyrinthine streets.
“So, what’s your plan?”
“I’m going home,” Amanda said resolutely. “I’m going to move in with my parents. I know, it’s pathetic…”
“It’s temporary. And besides, you’re young.”
“I don’t feel young.” Amanda sighed. “But, I’d like to think there’s still time for me to start over, you know? I’m looking into going back to school, finishing up my degree.”
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about acting again.”
Amanda glared at Regan, who held up her manicured hands in defense. “I’m just saying, you’re going to be a single parent. And since you’re going to have to work, it would be nice if you could get the kind of job that doesn’t require you to wear a nametag.”
“Like you could do any better with your psychology degree,” Amanda said hotly.
“You’re right. I couldn’t. But I don’t need to make money. My husband does that.”
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Amanda. The only person at the table Regan was interested in comforting was herself.