image from Bob Magill Photography
We took his motorcycle and drove for two days straight never stopping to shower, only to refuel and refuel and refuel at small convenience stores in quaint little towns where even the fat counter girls looked beautiful to me. Somehow we ended up tip-toeing in the middle of some farmer’s field where the corn stretched tall and sweet to the sky and roots spread underneath our feet, and I felt safe and believed in magic when he clapped his hands once and — without even having to say abracadabra — thousands of crows lit and seeded the sky like a million dark winged moons.
As he held me, they squawked our names, and he taught me how to decipher the screechings of birds, and I was so sure that love like that could never fly away.
But it does and it has dozens of times since then.
But before the pecking and the clawing there were kisses behind a crumbling wall, flowers sent with secret messages, green turtlenecks and green chairs and the whole fucking world was green with possibility and if I died in an hour no one would know that still I hold these memories, hoard them like chocolates I won’t share, sweet and delicious caramels oozing with my youth fluttering daily away from me on bird’s wings, and I can’t bear to part with a single one; they are all my favorites.
I need only breathe and we are there, his feathers… feathers flickering radiance.
And no one need ever know I sacrificed that kind of love, chose the warmth of a yellow comforter and a rye bagel each morning over the chill of late September rain on my shoulders, something less dangerous than a motorcycle and the uncertainty of a thousand crows screaming our passion overhead.
This week we were asked write about a relationship we knew was doomed from the start in under 400 words. Click on the button above to read other stories about love and loss.
Tell me about one of your doomed relationships: with a lover, a friend, a parent, a child, a celebrity.
renée a. schuls-jacobson 
*** — thousands of crows lit and seeded the sky like a million dark winged moons.***
**the whole fucking world was green with possibility***
Renee, gorgeous writing. xx
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Thank you, Kim. You know how much I admire your words, so when you say things like **gorgeous.** Um, that means a lot.
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I loved the crows–that was such an evocative moment. So much unrevealed behind this story!
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Thank you, Kathleen! I loved your piece, too. Such a bittersweet prompt.
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I know this is probably not what you were going for, but your story immediately made me think of Springsteen’s Born to Run lyrics:
Wendy (Renee) let me in I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams and visions
Just wrap your legs ’round these velvet rims
and strap your hands ‘cross my engines
Together we could break this trap
We’ll run till we drop, baby we’ll never go back
Oh, Will you walk with me out on the wire
`Cause baby I’m just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta know how it feels
I want to know if love is wild
Babe I want to know if love is real
Spill it. It was Bruce, wasn’t it? ;o)
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Larisa:
You know I love Bruce, but honestly he was not present in this piece.
At least not intentionally.
Probably. 😉
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This is was beautiful, poetic, and raw.
Loved it!
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Thank you, Susie.
This exercise reminded me of your flash fiction.
This is not typical of my style, but I loved the prompt — and I’m trying to be tighter with some of my writing. The prompts really help.
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I didn’t just read this. I drank this. A-farking-Mazing.
The green, the crows, the ladies behind the counters. You carried me with you in your chocolate box.
Love this.
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Dear Kim:
Thank you so much for your words. I loved your piece as well. So nice to meet you.
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Thanks! Nice to meet you, too.
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This was gorgeous! It would take an entire blog post to write about my favorite doomed relationship. Thanks for the idea! 🙂
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Ooooooh! ‘Fess up Sprinkles! Everyone is ooohing and ahhhing and avoiding my question! 😉
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Wow, Ray-girl, Wow.
Someday I’ll send you a piece of writing I did. Few people have seen it. It’s not this good, but your brought me back.
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Shirtsleeves:
These prompts can be so helpful. And sometimes I’m amazed by what comes out. I swear I’m not leaving my husband. 😉
You know I had a rough day. This is what came out.
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Fantastic writing, all of it. Loved the imagery of the crows, and the end, where you pick the rye bagel. Such truth.
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Hi Cheryl:
I should also mention the dude cheated on me.
So that sucked, too.
But it wasn’t very poetic.
I did pick the rye bagel. Although sometimes I do sesame. 😉
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Excellent and sad. Love your phrases.
But you’re not getting a story from me on this subject just at the moment.
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Not going to spill it, eh Paul?
It’s okay.
We all have these stories, right?
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I adored the bagel line as well. And the voice is perfection…raw, emotional, and razor-focused.
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Hi Nancy:
Some of my most favorite people are named Nancy. I think I must go and find this Nancy C. who thinks my “voice is perfection” and my images are “razor-focused.” I think I really like her.
Already. 😉
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Nancy is awesome and a fantastic writer, as are you.
You should definitely keep up with her stuff, Renee.
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*in my best robot voice* I will do whatever you tell me to do, @juliecgardner.
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I love your way with words. I love love love the way you wrote about crows. I could see the picture you painted. Lovely work. 9.5/10 {as a fellow teacher, I can not give full marks, hope you understand}.
I meandered here from RemembeRED….
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Hi B.
Thanks for coming over from rememberRED. This was a fun prompt, and I really liked your spin on it, too.
Thanks for the 9.5.
I’m never finished revising. 😉
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You can write. Imagery, metaphors and simile are req’s to keep me reading. Reading more too. You can write.
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Thanks, Carl. I haven’t been commenting much. It’s that time of the semester, but I’ve been looking at your stuff on my iPhone. Thanks for staying with me.
I’m glad you are reading.
Maybe you’ll read something of mine. 😉
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I could relate to the details even though, of course, my own are different.
Still, there’s something universal here despite the specifics; an emotion that overrides logic (and showering). Oh yes. I can relate.
But here’s where we differ:
I never knew these relationships were doomed.
And I’m not sure I got it until several years after I’d already chosen the bagel and the comforter.
I get it now.
Thankfully. Gratefully.
I do.
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I knew it was over because we were too alike.
Also a good clue was the cheating.
I nearly died when he married someone six months after we broke up.
But I knew he was going to do that.
And it was all for the best.
It really was.
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Holy god.
You know when you stumble on something and wish like hell you’d written it?
Yeah, that.
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Thank you, Cameron.
I know that feeling. I get it a lot. Thank you for making my night with that comment. 😉
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Beautiful and well written. Bravo.
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Hi Trish! Ha ha. That’s Team Bravo. 😉 And thank you.
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I know that feeling and the hoarding of those memories, though I had absolutely no idea in those moments I was in the midst of something that couldn’t last. Or maybe I did, and that’s why I was able to live with such abandon.
I could go on and on about how beautifully written this is or how you have done a perfect job of evoking feelings with images, but my favorite part is the contrast between the crazy love with the so simple yellow comforter and the rye bagel. One little line, so simple; it could almost seem like an afterthought, yet your happiness with your choice somehow seeps through those few words.
Perfect.
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Angela:
Thank you for getting *it*. Yes, that was a mad, crazy, passionate love. But it was not compassionate. It was all high-highs and low-lows.
We were both young.
And damaged.
I am so happy to have landed in that yellow comforter. 😉
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Fabulous. Fucking fabulous, actually!
When I was a senior in college, I dated an older man who would tell no one we were dating. I’d seen him do the same with his ex, who was a friend of mine, so part of me knew from the beginning it would never last. I needed something fuller and more joyous than a secret.
Part of me wanted to dream it would, that I could do something magical and change him.
Now I look back on that “forbidden” thrill and wonder what the hell I was thinking. But I did get something beautiful from it that I would never have had otherwise (in the form of a video), so . . . in the end, it was still worth it.
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Deb! I knew that you would get this. Part of it is that dream thing. The magical thinking.
I hoped he’d change for me.
And like you, I have those (mostly) beautiful memories.
Are you admitting to having a “naughty” video in your possession? 😉
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While I can neither confirm nor deny such a video was made, I can say that this video was altogether sweet. Despite a huge argument we had right before my college graduation, he showed up with his videocamera and recorded the whole thing.
I hadn’t thought much on the video for years, until a friend asked to see it and I realized: My mom was there! Healthy! Happy! Whole! It was such a beautiful gift to watch that video a few months ago and hear her say, “I’m proud of you!”
I wouldn’t have had that tape without that bozo, so it’s all good, IMO. 😉
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Wow…just wow.
This is a phenomenal piece, Renee.
The imagery, the pace, the word choice…just fabulous.
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Nichole:
From you, this means the world.
Unless it is just the Clomid speaking; in which case, give it 15 minutes. You might just hate it. 😉
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This is a beautiful post! What a compromise… I hope the ‘something less dangerous’ turned out to be better than the motorcycle and crows. 🙂
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It is. It’s like the t-shirt: “Life is good”!
Most of the time. 😉
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