Monday, 29 August 2011

'Surprise! I'm pregnant' - Part Two - Mrs. Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus - Week 69


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren

Jenny Matlock

Welcome to Saturday Centus, Week 69, Mrs. Jenny Matlock's writing challenge, where participants are asked to write a PG-rated text to a given written prompt, in any style or genre of writing, with normally no picture (but this post is an exception), and using only up to 100 words (or several 100-word posts), not counting the three words in the prompt. This is week 69 and the prompt is: 'Surprise, I'm pregnant!'

This is Part Two. If you haven't read Part One, do it here.
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Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren

My text follows here:

I have to think that my cat, Cajsa, did this to cheer me up. In February, when it was bitter cold, I found her celebrating her second marriage to a beautiful, grey, tabby tom, outside of the expensive townhouse that I would soon have to leave. I had let her out for some fresh air that afternoon while I went to fetch Elisabet from school. When Elisabet and I returned, there they stood, the two cats together, proclaiming their love, the way cats usually do.

I ran inside the house to get my camera, but Cajsa's shy beloved had disappeared before I could get back outside. But I think I would recognise him if I ever saw him again. He was beautiful. I can understand why she fell for him.

So Cajsa-Cat fell in love. Or perhaps she felt like living it up when she was offered an invitation. She surprised me because I did not think she would be up to such activities. She had(still has) a huge tumor hanging from her belly like an extra human breast. And she was not young - eleven and a half years old. Maybe she wanted to give us a gift to remember her by? Miniatures of herself?

Cajsa had her love-affair before I started packing to move. But my marriage was already falling apart and the divorce was in the works - on paper. To have to prepare for a move and have kittens to take care of - at the same time - is not a good combination. But Cajsa had decided for me that this is what she wanted. (I have always trusted Cajsa's wisdom.)

With time, Cajsa had become a sage-like cat with great spiritual ability. I know, it sounds crazy and many people refuse to believe me. It started when my former husband and I dearly wanted children. The cats (we had three, then) were our surrogate children. When I could finally say 'Surprise, I'm pregnant!' and I was expecting our son, Erik, I was afraid I would miscarry as I had done several times before.

When I noticed a little spotting of blood, I lay down on the bed and cried. Cajsa Cat hopped up on the bed and climbed up on my chest, and rubbed her face under my chin and purred. This was the first time that she had ever done this. It was as if she wanted to comfort me and thank me for what I had done for her
when she gave birth to her kittens. Since then she and I have had a special bond. She made me smile and even laugh a little. 'This crisis will pass', is what she meant. And it did.


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren

Back to this past year: Suddenly it was April, and I realised that Cajsa was going to have her kittens soon. I started making a birthing-bed and trying to remember what I did the last time, eleven years ago. Poor Cajsa would not get the same attention that she received before I had children of my own. I gave her all my time back then. This time, I felt that I could not do that. I was worried too. Could she die as a result of this?

It was in the afternoon of April 4th when when Cajsa wanted to go out. I regretted opening the door, because I could see that her 'water had broken' and a red string of mucus was hanging from her under her tail. Oh no, I thought, her labour has started. I got her back inside and tried to get her to lay down somewhere to rest. I let her lay down on the comforter on our bed. (See the first two photos) She was restless. Nothing more happened. I made a special bed for her from a basket that I had sewn for the children when they were infants. She crawled in it and we all went to bed. (This is the bloody bed you see in the third photo. Then a lot happened and not everything was photo-documented, as I was her midwife as well as photographer.)

When Cajsa gave birth the first time it was during the day, which meant that I was there to see everything and even could help her dry kittens with paper towels. It was unfortunate for Cajsa, that her second litter of kittens starting coming at night, when everyone - including me - was asleep. She had to tackle the hardest part of becoming a mother - alone.

I woke up at around two a.m. hearing the peeps and cries of a kitten. Cajsa had a living kitten that she was licking and trying to nurse. But I checked the whole basket, and found the lifeless body of a kitten behind Cajsa's back. It was still wet and warm. I immediately started drying and gently massaging it. No response.

'There's no life there', said my Ex knowingly. But it was still warm! It had a beautiful little body. It was an entirely black or grey kitten, that had no white areas at all. Its face was well-formed. There was no sign of deformity. But it never responded and I gave up trying. Cajsa must have known more than I did.

I felt guilty about this dead or perhaps stillborn kitten for days, until I read up on cats giving birth. The hardest thing for a cat-mother-to-be is to give birth to a kitten that has already died while still inside. It could be the lack of oxygen or that the umbilical cord became detached or a defect that I could not see by just looking at it. An already dead kitten is hard for the cat-mother to push out. Being twelve years old and not really completely healthy, this must have been an even greater ordeal for Cajsa.

Kittens that are alive, help their mother in the birthing-process. They want out! And this I could see as number two and then number three happily left Cajsa's womb. They seemed to rejoice in being alive. And there were three that had survived! One kitten for each of my children, plus an extra, to make up for the red kittens that were given away to other people. (See this page for that story. Sorry, I'm having trouble with Blogger. I'll supply that link later! )

It was time to wake the children. I put away the dead kitten and showed the children the three beautiful living kittens that Cajsa had given us during the night.

We ate breakfast and I told them about the first kitten who died. Erik was moved and and wanted to see him. I showed them the kitten and he was named 'Lars'. (We'll never know what it was. But it is a good guess that it was a little boy-cat because it was only one colour. The extra chromosomes that all females have give cat-ladies more multi-coloured coats.) The children got to see the body of the dead kitten and it was decided to have a funeral for Lars the kitten at the farm.

This was done too. I laid Lars in a tea-box on a bed of tissues and Erik took it upon himself to arrange a burial. I was not present because I had stopped going to the farm at this time.


Back to April 5th: After breakfast, Elisabet and Erik were eager to see Cajsa and the kittens. And to Elisabet's great delight she came in time to witness the birth of the fourth and last kitten. It started squealing and peeping when it had only wiggled halfway out! The last one was eager for life. So there were four kittens, not just three! Not bad, for such an old cat!


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren

Here is a photo of number four. I debated with myself weather or not I should take photos of Lars the kitten who died. He was lovely, even in death. But I could not collect myself enough to do it. I grieved so that I just couldn't. Sometimes I regret it, but I decided that the memory of holding him will have to do. There were so many things happening all at once, and I had not slept very well that night. It is a wonder that I took pictures of the kittens who survived.


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren


Photo & Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren

I am not counting words for this post. I am sure that I have broken all of the rules for Saturday Centus. I am not even sure if this text is fit for children to read! I'm sorry. I usually follow all the rules. But this time I just wanted to share this, without having to edit it too much.

Next post will be more according to the rules.

Word count according to WordCalc: ?????
[Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren]
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Best wishes,
Anna




P.S.
This is a true story. Cajsa was born on May 29, 1999 and her first litter of kittens came on June 6th, 2000. So Cajsa became a mother to six kits when she barely one year old. Her daughter, Sara has never had any kittens.

Cajsa is now twelve years old and is probably suffering from some kind of a tumor. She is with my ex. now so I can't help her at this moment. But I did what I could in April when she had kittens again. This is the second part of Saturday Centus week 69 'Surprise, I'm Pregnant!' is about Cajsa's second and last litter of kittens.
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First Commenter:
Ann



of
Ann's Snap, Edit & Scrap



Visit 'Surprise, I'm pregnant' - Part One, here.
To visit other SC-posts for Week 69, please visit this site or click on the image below:

Jenny Matlock

Saturday, 27 August 2011

'Surprise! I'm pregnant' - Part One - Mrs. Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus - Week 69

Jenny Matlock



Welcome to Saturday Centus, Week 69, Mrs. Jenny Matlock's writing challenge, where participants are asked to write a PG-rated text to a given written prompt, in any style or genre of writing, with no picture, and using only up to 100 words (or several 100-word posts), not counting the three words in the prompt. This is week 69 and the prompt is: 'Surprise, I'm pregnant!'



(There is a 'Part Two ' to this too. Please go to this page here.)

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My text follows here:




Cajsa is my first cat ever. It wasn't until I was an adult that I decided to buy a kitten. I knew nothing and had to read books about cats. But I learned most from Cajsa herself.



Cajsa was an adventurous kitten. And like children, she grew up. My former husband was supposed to watch Cajsa on the farm, but got sloppy, and let Cajsa run away with a clowder of cats; returning to announce:
'Surprise, I'm pregnant!'.



Cajsa gave birth to six kittens on June 6th, 2000. I was there. All survived and became good pets. Only Sara stayed with us.



Word count according to
WordCalc: 100

[Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren]

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Best wishes,

Anna








P.S.

This is a true story. Cajsa was born on May 29, 1999 and her first litter of kittens came on June 6th, 2000. So Cajsa became a mother to six kits when she barely one year old. Her daughter, Sara has never had any kittens.

Cajsa is now twelve years old and is probably suffering from some kind of a tumor. She is with my ex. so I can't help her at this moment. But I did what I could in April when she had kittens again. But that is another story...

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First Commenter:

Sue

of

Sue's News, Views 'n Muse







To visit 'Part Two' please go to this page here.

To visit other SC-posts for Week 69, please visit this site or click on the image below:



Jenny Matlock



Friday, 26 August 2011

'Smooth Sailing' - Romantic Friday Writers - No.16





Welcome to the Romantic Friday Writing Challenge, where participants share their own 300-400-word text on a given theme. This week's theme for Friday the 26th of August, Challenge No.16, is 'Smooth Sailing'.

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Here is my text:

There was no bath tub at the new place, only a space that could accommodate a washer-dryer and a floor drain, standard in all Swedish wet-rooms.

The children loved to play with their plastic boats in the bath so Sanna took the plastic inflatable pool with her in the move from the old place. Her ex had bought out her half of their townhouse.

After bathing the children, Sanna succeeded in getting them into bed, and then fed the cats.



Finally 'Smooth Sailing', Sanna thought, as she emptied and refilled the little pool and sat down in the warm water for some moments of relaxation. She thought about Tomas, the charming wood-working teacher at her children's school. He had given her a hug when he saw her again after the summer holiday. He was kind, clean-shaven, short-haired and ruggedly handsome with his well-trained body (from riding his bike between four different schools), intensely blue eyes and eagle-nose that was probably broken at some point in his life. Tomas had kind eyes and Sanna's heart beat faster when she thought of him.



Sanna closed her eyes and dozed off and found herself on the deck of an ancient sailing-ship, f
ar out to sea. The air was gently warm. She looked up and saw a black flag with the skull and bones! Pirates! But they looked more like buccaneers from Peter Pan than dangerous cut-throats.



There was no Captain Hook here; their leader was a good-looking man with long, blond hair and a three-corner hat. He walked toward her and embraced her. At closer range, she could see that it was Tomas! He pulled her face closer to his and was about to kiss her, when a huge, unforeseen wave washed over the ship, drenching everyone on board. Sanna was knocked off her feet and careened on the deck in a foot of water.
She noticed that the crew-members were cats dressed in pirate-clothes, tiny swords, three-corner hats and boots like Puss n' Boots'. The water level rose and the cats started to swim. Where was Tomas?

Sanna opened her eyes and found herself lying on the wet floor of the bathroom. The pool was deflated and the water had run out and down the floor-drain. The cats had clawed holes in the pool.



[Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren]

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Word count according to WordCalc: 382 : FCA (Full Critique Acceptable - Write what you like as long as it is with good intentions)



Best wishes,

Anna







P.S.

This is a piece of fiction. Sanna is not a real person. When I write texts about Sanna Rumsten I am writing purely fictional stories that may or may not borrow content from my own life. I have written many short-texts for Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus using the character, Sanna Rumsten.

This time I am letting Sanna star in a longer text for Romantic Friday Writers.




If you are interested in reading more short-fiction with Sanna, you can go to these posts:



Anna's SC Wk 68 'If I die young'

Sanna's Sunshine SC Wk 66

'John Tell, expert on tourism' Anna's SC wk 65

Books are heavy-Anna's SC wk 63

A Rainy Day in July-Anna's SC wk 61

Anna's SC-56-Sanna visits a grave

Anna's SC-53-Sanna finds her voice

Anna's SC-52-Sanna's novel

Anna's SC-51-Harvey's Place



Thanks for reading!


Anna



First Commenter:

Ruth Madison









To read more texts for 'Smooth Sailing', Romantic Friday Writers Challenge No 16, Friday 26th August, please go to this site or click on the image below:







Saturday, 20 August 2011

'If I die young...' - Mrs. Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus - Week 68

Jenny Matlock



Welcome to Saturday Centus, Week 68, Mrs. Jenny Matlock's writing challenge, where participants are asked to write a PG-rated text to a given written prompt, in any style or genre of writing, with no picture, and using only up to 150 words (this week), not counting the four words in the prompt. This is week 68 and the prompt is: 'If I die young'.

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My text follows here:



'If I die young'



Sanna thought about people she knew who never became old. They died before they turned fifty. Even sixty years old seems too early. Some die so young, like the son of a psychiatrist who died in his twenties. He wanted to go to medical school; but time ran out before he even got started. His sisters always make a point of remembering him.



Maybe that's the only thing left when you are faced with your doom: to be remembered. Sanna's father asked her if she thought that the children would remember him. Sanna said yes, and even promised to talk about him. She herself had fond memories of relatives whom she never actually met, because her parents and grandparents spoke lovingly about them.



Sanna hoped to live a long life. But what if she didn't? She opened her notebook and started writing a poem: 'If I die young, will you remember me?'



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Word count according to WordCalc: 149



Sanna has jotted down a poem here as an extra text:



If I die young, will you remember me?

That I have dreamed of things that could not be?



If I die young, will you speak of me?

To your friends, your children, speak of me!



If I die young, will you think of me?

When winter's clear air lets you breath free?



If I die young, will you be thinking of me?

When sunshine in springtime make you dance with glee?



If I die young, will you think of me?

With all summer's greens: grass, bush and tree?



If I die young, will you think of me?

When the autumn leaves fall, think of me!




If I die young, will you remember me?

That I lived and had so much yet to see!





[Text Copyright 2011 Christina Wigren]



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Best wishes,

Anna








P.S.

When I write a text with the character Sanna Rumsten, it is a purely fictional text, that may or may not borrow content from my own life. This text is dedicated to the memory of a real boy, Jens, the son of my second cousin. Jens died of leukemia twenty years ago. If he had survived and recovered his health, he would have been in his forties now, and had very likely become a doctor. My second cousin tells me that his sisters really do make a point of remembering him.




First Commenter:

Daydreamer Too







To visit other SC-posts for Week 68, please visit this site or click on the image below:



Jenny Matlock



Anna has curated a new Etsy treasury: 'Squirrels!'





Best wishes,

Anna







First Commenter:



Ann







of



Ann's Snap, Edit & Scrap








Friday, 19 August 2011

'New Horizons: Cissi tells Selma' - Romantic Friday Writers No. 15





Welcome to the Romantic Friday Writing Challenge, where participants share their own 300-400-word text on a given theme. This week's theme for Friday the 19th of August, Challenge No.15, is 'New Horizons'.



Here is my text for 'New horizons':

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'New Horizons': Cissi tells Selma about her new life



'Did he kiss you?' inquired Selma with a wry smile, as she and her long-time friend lounged in the shade of an old apple tree in a lovely summer-green back garden. They were gossiping (no, talking) as most females do when they get together.



'Oh yes, he did! He kissed me so sweetly!' Cissi sighed, 'It was delicious!'



'So, how do you like your new life?' inquired Selma, stretching and yawning.



'Oh Selma, it's simply divine' , purred Cissi. 'And now, I have him all to myself!'



'I don't understand these mixed liaisons,' said Selma, often the one to put a damper on the swooning passions of others, 'I mean, you won't be able to have children together... and he is so tall and you are so ... I mean he could crush you in bed if he rolls over you in his sleep!'



'But he won't. He is so careful. He holds me in his arms and takes me everywhere: the kitchen, the dining-room, the study and, of course, the bedroom. I can even perch on his shoulders and ride around on him. You get a different perspective up there...'



'Yes, I'm sure', chimed Selma in, 'You see entirely New Horizons up there!'



'And children, who needs more kits? I can still have kittens with any tom I choose!'



'And he doesn't mind?'



'Not in the least!'



'How did his wife take it?' asked Selma, trying to steer the line of inquiry in another direction.



'Very well, I thought, for a two-legged. Even though she caught us red-pawed. She came into the bedroom one evening when I was lying next to him on the bed with my paw over his arm. I heard her footsteps, but did not pull my paw away in time. So she saw it. She starting packing after that, and the movers came the next day.'



'I see', said Selma purring and listening with one ear, as she stretched the full length of her body, rolled around in the grass waving all four feet in the air.



'After that', Cissi continued, 'he took me with him to this lovely place and I'll being returning to the city with him tomorrow. I'm his only companion now. He said so.'



'Oh lucky you!' sighed Selma biting an imaginary flea.



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Word count according to WordCalc: 396 : MPA (Minor Points Acceptable)



Best wishes,

Anna







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First Commenter:



Ruth Madison







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P.S.

I received many helpful comments last week for 'Confused' and will let my character Elin return in a new story when I feel the time is right for her to reappear. In the meantime a couple of other characters have been tugging at my sleeve (or pants-leg), trying to get my attention.

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To read more texts for 'New Horizons', Romantic Friday Writers Challenge No 15, Friday 19th August, please go to this site or click on the image below:





Link

Saturday, 13 August 2011

Laugh Out Loud- Mrs. Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus - Week 67

Jenny Matlock



Welcome to Saturday Centus, Week 67, Mrs. Jenny Matlock's writing challenge, where participants are asked to write a PG-rated text to a given written prompt, in any style or genre of writing, with picture (this week), and using only up to 50 words (this week), not counting the three words in the prompt. This is week 67 and the prompt is: 'laugh out loud'.

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My text follows here:



After years of living outside of the English-speaking world, I started blogging, and had to write in English again. But I didn't recognise all the new acronyms, such as lol. I tried to guess, but couldn't, and finally asked someone online. Now I know that lol means 'laugh out loud'.



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Word count according to WordCalc: 50

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Best wishes,

Anna








First Commenter:

Ann







of

Ann's Snap, Edit & Scrap








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P.S. Thank you Sharon/Wanderer for correcting me so gently! The expression 'lol' is an acronym of 'laugh out loud' and not really an abbreviation, as I first wrote.







Find Sharon, the Wanderer here:

- The Woodwife's Journal -




TheWoodwife'sJournal



To visit other SC-posts for Week 67, please visit this site or click on the image below:



Jenny Matlock



Thursday, 11 August 2011

'CONFUSED', Romantic Friday Writing Challenge No 14, Friday, 12th August 2011





Welcome to the Romantic Friday Writing Challenge, where participants share their own 300-400-word text on a given theme. For this week's theme for Friday the 12th of August, Challenge No.14, the theme is 'Confused'.

Here is my text:

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Confused
Elin ordered a mixed-salad at the new pizzeria. She looked at the rows of ingredients in plastic bins behind the glass counter. Behind that, you could see the whole kitchen where four dark-haired men were frying meat and baking pizzas.



He's attractive, thought Elin observing the young man who scooped up lettuce in a plastic container. Nice face.



"What more would you like?", he asked.



Elin listed quickly, "Chicken, feta-cheese, pineapple, artichoke hearts and those pickles over there." She pointed and looked at his dark curly hair and finely sculptured nose. Yeah, looks nice.



Looking up, he smiled, "Dressing?"



"Yes, the mango would be fine." He has blue eyes! She did not understand what he said to the other men in the kitchen. They were speaking a language she didn't recognise. She was handed her salad, thanked him and left.



When Elin came home she laid the table for her meal spooning some of the salad in a bowl, thinking about what she liked best about a man. The owner was not as cute as the young man who made the salad, but he spoke better Swedish. Once he asked about her cat. He had remembered that she had said that she could not find her cat. How many men would remember something like that? But I could never fall in love with someone who didn't speak my language. She tried to guess their nationality.



One evening, Elin decided late to buy salad. It was already half past nine, and they close at ten.

"Is it too late?" she gasped when she saw that the salad-counter was empty. The plastic boxes with ingredients were stacked on a wagon on their way to cold-storage.

The owner said, "We have to be careful about salad in the summer. We usually start putting it away by twenty past nine. But if you know what you want, we can make it for you."

"Yes please," she said softly. They had to lift the different boxes to get to make the salad.

"You see we are open until ten, but we have to finish up so that these fellows can go home. Otherwise their wives will complain."



Wives, thought Elin, and pictured a dark-haired woman holding a baby and a toddler when her pizza-baker-husband comes home at eleven.

"Thanks for the salad," she murmured embarrassed and left.



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Word count according to WordCalc: 392 : NCCO (Now that I have written my 'P.S.' anyone can write what they like.)



Best wishes,

Anna





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P.S.

Making fiction out of facts



Elin is a character of my own invention, who borrows content from my own life, but gives these real events a different meaning than what they had for me. To meet the challenge of writing a story for Romantic Friday Writers, I took one of my everyday observations and twisted it slightly.



For the young and lonely Elin, she is embarrassed for her thoughts, as if other people could read her mind. What really happened, was that I became embarrassed for coming so late to the restaurant, when the makings for salad were on their way to cold storage for the night.



I worked one summer selling bread behind the counter of a bakery and remembered how tired I was at the end of the day at closing-time, when it was time to clean up and put things away. But at this bakery, we did not start until after we locked the door that kept customers out. It surprised me that the pizzeria closed the salad-counter 40 minutes before closing time. But they probably had good reason to do so.



As to the attractiveness of the cute young pizza-baker, here is where my story really starts to get fictitious. I looked at all of the men working at the real life pizzeria and found one man that may have been cute fifteen years ago. I am in no way personally attracted to any of these fellows in a romantic way. I can, however admire anyone who is doing good work. They do make very good salads and pizzas. But I would probably have little to say to them outside of this connection. My fictitious character Elin, on the other hand, is very lonely and lets her mind wander.



The first inspiration for this piece was an old saying that goes something like: 'Men fall in love with their eyes, women through their ears'. This is the notion that physical beauty in a woman means more to a man than the handsomeness of a man for a woman who loves him. A woman prefers a man who has something substantial to say. A man wants to rest his eyes on a beautiful woman.



In this little story, about confusion, I am toying with what qualities that make someone attractive to the opposite sex. Elin is attracted to a handsome man who speaks less than perfect Swedish, while at the same time she appreciates the thoughtful remarks of the other less handsome older man who asks her about her cat. The confusion for Elin here is what is better: good looks or someone who understands what you are saying.



Nothing happens. No one knows what Elin is thinking, even if she thinks they can see it in her face. The owner's explanation about why they close the salad-bar so early is taken almost verbatim, but translated by me into English, as the real life exchange was in Swedish.



Why did I make the young pizza-baker have blue eyes? In reality all of the men working at the pizza-restaurant have dark hair and dark brown eyes. I gave my fictional baker blue eyes to make him more enigmatic and alluring. This is from an experience I had when I was still living in Stockholm. Late one evening I was alone and waiting for the train at some tub-station in the heart of town, when a magazine cover in the closed kiosk caught my eye. It was National Geographic's issue that had a photograph of an Afghan woman with very intense, light, sea-blue eyes! I stood dumb-founded staring at her face, until a dark man from India or Pakistan commented on my reaction. He saw what I was thinking: 'She's looks just like me!'




I removed some scenes that could be restored to make this a longer story. Elin looks at the pizza-baker's hands as he kneads the dough. In Daphne du Maurier's novel,
Jamaica Inn, the heroine, admires the hands of her lover-to-be. She also looks at her uncle's hands and finds them loathsome, despite the fact that the man she hates and the man she loves are brothers. According to du Marirer's protagonist, there is a fine line between that which is attractive and that which is repulsive. I removed the scene about hands because I thought it was too openly sensuous and took too many words for the 400-word-limit. (While I am on the subject of men's hands, I would like to mention that the most beautiful pair of men's hands that I have ever seen, were the hands of the child-specialist heart-surgeon who preformed open-heart-surgery on my daughter, Elisabet when she was just one week old.)



Li of Flash Fiction suggested that I expand this snippet and make it a short story. I would like to know what her thoughts are on the different ways to go about doing this. My idea is that Elin's character needs more development: Why is she lonely? Does she live alone? Does she have friends such as schoolmates? What are her goals and ideals? Why is she living in this city? Did she grow up here or move here from some other place? Why is she eating out so often? Can she cook? It would seem to be more economical for her to buy food items and make her own meals.



In my case, I've just moved to a new apartment after a very difficult divorce. I hadn't finished unpacking all the kitchen utensils, and decided to see what eating establishments there are in the neighbourhood.



I guess I could give Elin a slight weight-problem as a reason for her to only order salad. I could show Elin out with her other friends and even boyfriends as a contrast to this dream-world of dark foreigners.
Is Elin herself, attractive? And for whom is she attractive? I haven't indicated anything about her own looks in this story. But I could write something about this in a longer version.



Next time I hope to have time to include my background information together with the text itself so that other participants don't have to return to visit me several times.



Thanks for reading this background!

Anna






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First Commenter:



Ann Thompson







of

Ann's Snap, Edit & Scrap









To read more Romantic Friday texts for Challenge No 14, Friday 12th of August, please go to this site or click on the image below:





Link

Translate a text here:

My shop parltradet has curated these Etsy treasuries: