Words written: 4,166
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite part:

I walked to work the next morning like a changed woman. I saw my city through different eyes. Every corner café had new potential for an experience I could have with Jack Rook. Every building I passed spoke stories through me that I could tell him, personal and historical. And every person I passed was like a point of light, shining and obvious as they lit my way to work. Their own smiles bouncing off of mine.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Words written: 573
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite part:

“Follow me,” she said hastily as she brushed past me. I put the sunglasses I was modeling back onto the rack and followed behind her into Alistair Apparel’s most luxurious dressing room. Not only did I have a blood connection to one of Seattle’s trendiest boutiques, but I had a professional one as well. I was on a first name basis with Vlad Alistair, a designer and the proprietor of the boutique. JD Designs was hired to rebrand the label, shop, and website, just in time for a three-city expansion to Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Aspen. Since a pair of jeans started at $250, and my closet of clothes looked more like Gap and less like Guess, I had never actually bought anything at Alistair Apparel, even though Marianna was constantly teasing me about my bland wardrobe. Mari, herself, was always up on the latest trends, and spent the majority of paycheck to adapt to it. So tonight’s trip into the boutique had Marianna far more excited than it had me. I was now in her world and she was going to enjoy every moment of it.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

She shook her head again and placed the ornament she’d been holding on to the tree and crossed her arms. She trembled lightly and stared up at the angel while tears welled up in her eyes. I carried on and tried my hardest to make myself believe what I had just promised her.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

It was an interesting dilemma for Dr. and Mrs. Peters. They only knew how to spoil Finn, but they wanted him to be civilized and responsible. He only knew how to be spoiled, but couldn’t help himself when it came to a party or a horserace.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

I had never expected to get the part. But isn’t that how it always goes for burgeoning actors who make it to the big leagues? You always hear them say that during press junkets, “I never expected to get the part.” And now it was my turn. But it was the honest truth. I thought Lawrence was only trying to give me an ego boost when he came to me with a plane ticket and a script.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

Julia was staring out the window, her champagne flute rested gently against her cheek, and I could tell she was deep in thought. I knew that look on her face from my own personal experience. It was longing for something more. I felt comfortable enough, and maybe even buzzed from the champagne, to engage Julia about what I had witnessed, “So I don’t know if you caught on but I think Mr. Spencer has a crush on you.”

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

My frivolous swim through the shallow end of the pool was interrupted when Julia snuck up beside me and looked over my shoulder. “Who’s the hunk?” she teased.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

More like a paragraph, and it just so happens that this paragraph opens Renata’s narrative.

I watched the time count up as I ran faster than usual on one of my gym’s many treadmills. 29:46. 29:47. 29:48. Before I could see 29:49, my cell phone vibrated harshly against the built-in water bottle holder. My ex-husband Patrick’s smiling face popped up on the display for the second time during my work out. I ignored it and increased the speed on the treadmill for the last ten seconds, hoping that if I ran even faster I would feel less frustrated with him. 29:58. 29:59. 30:00. Cool down. But running faster hadn’t made me feel better, it only made me trip over my own feet. As my body fell toward the horrifying conveyer belt, I thanked my lucky stars that I had remembered to adhere the emergency stop cord to my t-shirt. I hit the rubber surface hard and heard the women around me yelp at the sight of my fall and the sound of my thud. I pulled myself up, red with embarrassment and sore all over. I told myself right then and there I would never again act so stupid because my ex-husband was giving me grief. Never.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

“Don’t bother with your rubbish,” she hissed and pushed past us to get into the house, her little dog following close behind. Ryan knocked back into me accidentally making me lose my balance and hit the kitchen table, which consequently knocked over an open bottle of red wine. It gushed over the tabletop and onto the floor. When the aroma reached my nostrils I rushed to the sink to make the ultimate first impression by throwing up all over Susan’s dishrags. Everyone froze behind me, except for Lynne’s dog Tommy, who went to work investigating the spilled wine.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

I can’t believe I wrote a vomit scene! I never would have imagined that would be part of my story, but it fit so perfectly and provided the perfect set up.

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

The framed photograph in Ryan’s room had not done her justice. I thought that I knew her face so well since I had studied it so many times, but this face was fresh and vibrant. Her full lips were mauve and just like Ryan’s, they turned up at the corners ever so slightly. Unlike in the photo, her auburn hair was now long and pulled back in a ponytail. She reminded me more of a cheerleader than a classics professor. She was stunning. Seeing her now in person made me worry that I wasn’t nearly beautiful enough to be with her heart throb son.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael