Thursday, September 11, 2014


Alison is in London this week. Yesterday she visit St Pancras Railway Station and sent us this photo of The Meeting Place by Paul Day. So, in honor of her, this is the ten minute writing prompt for today.

  He clenched his hands behind his back. "So, this is goodbye."
  She nodded. "Yes."
  He followed her movement, his own head nodding slightly, and looked away. "Well, then . . ." This was it. In five minutes she would be gone. He barely registered when someone jostled him. Instead, he glanced back at her.
  She turned and looked at the large clock on the wall. A train horn blew. She looked amazing with her hair down, her shirt hanging lightly about her knees, her high heels making the muscles on her legs pop with definition.
  "Should I--"
  "Maggie--" he stopped. "Sorry, please continue."
  She gave him a half smile and a small shake of her head. "What were you saying?"
  He swallowed. "Just, goodbye. Be safe."
  Her eyes started to glisten. "Yes. You too."
  This was ridiculous. He should just turn around and leave. His train was going to be boarding any minute. And the longer he stood, with her in arms reach, the harder it became to leave her.
  He nodded, then turned. He heard her sharp intake of breath and the little cry that escaped her. He couldn't leave her like this, with her not knowing--without either of them knowing, for sure.
  He turned back around to find that she had stepped forward, her arm outstretched, her eyebrows knit together.
  It undid him. Those creased eyebrows, those watery eyes, those parted lips.
  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. "Maggie. I can't. I can't go without telling you. I--I love you. I have since the moment I saw you. And every moment I'm with you--I don't know how I lived before you."
  She reached up and touched his face. He wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies met. She felt so good, here, in his arms. Never mind the onlookers, the clock, the noises of the train and the station. Everything inside him--all the endless chatter, the worries, the fears--they all dissolved into a beautiful calm.
  "I love you, too," she whispered.
  He leaned into her and she brought his face close. "Wait for me," he begged.
  She looked directly into his eyes. "Forever."


  1. There is a reason you write romance my friend. *kissing the tips of my fingers* Perfecto!

  2. I'm already completing the scene in my head you paint it so well! The characters, the love, *sigh*

  3. Ditto to all the above. Much love.