Come visit my world. (standard:drama, 1481 words)
Author: red1hols	Added: Mar 16 2004	Views/Reads: 3433/2337	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The result of a my post in the forum. The writer has complete power over their characters - or do they?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

It should have resulted in the signature to complete his sales target 
for the year. With the cut-off date looming, it was his last realistic 
chance. The meeting didn't go to plan. Steven Crick had more questions. 
The contract sits unsigned in the briefcase. 

As the writer, I know that my hero is vulnerable. That bonus meant a new
boat and holiday in the sun. Now is my time to strike, time to bring in 
another character. 

The pretty Natalie pops her head around the door. Wide, blue eyes scan
the room. For a second she hesitates before committing herself. The 
girl is no more than twenty-five.  Her walk is more a dance. That smile 
seems a constant and reassuring fixture. Only the most jaundiced would 
fail to describe her as pretty. 

After buying a bottle of cider, she reaches into her embroidered
shoulder-bag for a tissue. As she idly wipes the top of the bottle, she 
looks toward David. 

David is oblivious to the new arrival. She only invades his
consciousness when she ignores the empty tables and sits at his. 

“Hello, my name is Natalie.” The voice is soft, warm and reassuring. 

The newspaper rustles and David stiffens. Those wonderful, wide blue
eyes try to burn through the paper. When silence doesn't discourage the 
girl, David tries a curt ‘Hi' without eye contact or anything else the 
intruder could interpret as encouragement. 

“So, what brings you here?” Natalie doesn't pick up the hints. 

David half lowers his paper. “Look Miss...” 

“Please, call me Natalie, or Tally if you'd rather.” Natalie gives a
calm, disarming smile. 

“OK, Natalie, I've had a bad morning, I'm not up to company.” David
raises his paper and rustles it pointedly. 

“I thought so.” Natalie sips at her cider. “I saw you in the street. I
do a bit of lip reading. My aunt was deaf.” 

Natalie waits for David to respond, when he doesn't she continues. “My
Aunt always said that a trouble shared is a trouble halved. If you want 
to talk about it, I am a good listener. Everyone says so.” 

“You haven't so far.” 

“I haven't what?” The girl attempts to look around the paper. 

“You haven't listened. I told you I want to be left alone.” David
discards his paper and looks at his tormentor properly for the first 
time. 

“That's better. The world is a far better place through the eyes of a
friend than through the bottom of a glass.” Natalie smiles and two 
enchanting dimples play on her cheeks. 

“Please, just leave me alone.” David takes a deep draught on his beer to
spite her and grimaces at the taste. 

“Not that you could see the world through that.” She chimes a laugh as
she points at the beer. 

“If you must know, I thought a client would sign his contract this
morning, but he needed ‘further clarification'.” David spits the last 
two words, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and continues. 
“Now it looks like I won't get my bonus. No bonus - no boat and no 
holiday in the sun. Now are you happy?” 

“Do you need the boat?” Natalie looks at him intently. 

David laughs now, it clangs heavily with irony. 

“Besides, you have found a friend.” Natalie rests her hand on his; he
recoils as if it burns. “A friend lasts a lifetime, not just a couple 
of weeks.” 

“You don't even know my name.” 

“You're David. It is embossed on your briefcase.” Natalie rests her chin
on clasped hands. 

“Quite the Miss Marple.” David reached for his pint then thought better
of it. 

“My Aunt always says that we were given eyes so we should use them.” 

“Do you have homespun philosophy for every occasion?” David sighs. 

Natalie thinks for a second before nodding. David finds himself
giggling. 

That isn't right. I am the writer here. I have absolute power. My hero
shouldn't giggle! This unwanted attention should outrage him. His 
already taught nerves should be close to snapping. 

The two of them are leaning forward; taking on the body language of
lovers. I'll show them, I have a final trick up my sleeve. I still 
control Steven Crick, David's dithering client and by fate of my 
choosing, Natalie's father. 

In order to stop this nonsense, I'll have him come into the pub. 

Right on cue, Steven Crick enters the pub. He sees his daughter and the
David. This will put pay to their insolence. 

Only, he is buying them drinks, smiling and joking. This wasn't in my
plot. 

I'm sorry; the tour of this writer's world is over. You need to decide
what happens to these three souls. I need to go and lie in a darkened 
room. My powers have deserted me. I must be tired or it could be the 
stress; a good night's sleep will probably sort this out. Tomorrow, 
come and see me again. Tomorrow I will have regained control. Tomorrow 
fate will once more be in the writer's hands. 


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