Micro Fiction Monday: One Part

He fiddled with his neck pillow, fluffing it and adjusting it before settling back into his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment, if that, before fiddling with the pillow again. He reached for the packet of gum tucked into the seat pocket, purchased from a stand in the airport. He fumbled with the packaging, dropping the first piece onto the floor, before he popped one into his mouth. He chewed it quickly and aggressively, so much so that his jaw quickly grew sore.

He jerked back in his seat as the plane moved forwards, gaining speed quickly. He gripped the edges of his seat, so hard that his knuckles turned white and the tips of his fingers went numb. He kept his eyes focused on the TV screen in front of him, his destination outlined on the map.

His eyes darted to the side only once, and he took some comfort in the fact that the young woman beside him looked just as nervous as he felt. Perhaps, he mused, he was not the only one new to flying.

~~

This wasn’t her first time on an airplane. Her family travelled to Florida when she was seven, again when she was ten. She flew to Mexico at age fifteen, and back and forth from the West coast once she started college at eighteen.

Her nerves didn’t derive from the sudden jolts of movement, or the force of gravity as they lifted up into the air. She twisted her hands nervously in her lap, afraid that this plan was futile; that he would find her, no matter how far she went. She was scared that she had left behind some clue, or that he would notice her absence too quickly. He had held his grasp on her for so long...a part of her didn’t think she could get away.

Another part of her didn’t want to.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

The Story (WFMAD Day 6)

This month, I'm participating in a writing challenge called "Write Fifteen Minutes a Day", or WFMAD. To complete this challenge, I will be taking fifteen minutes or more (probably more) to post a new blog post every day in September. If you're tuning in late and would like to catch up, you can find the first blog post here, or skim through the links in the archive to the right.



If I've made anything clear in the six months (yes, six months) since I started this blog, it's that I love, love, love writing. But it occurred to me, earlier today, that I have yet to really explain why I love it so much.

Well, you're about to find out.

Have you ever found a book, or a tv show, or a movie, or virtually any kind of story that had you so sucked in that you weren't even aware of the real world moving around you? Have you ever finished some epic tale, and moved through your life for the following few days as though you were in a dream?

I'll admit, I probably allow myself to get too emotionally invested in these stories. After the Castle season 5 finale back in May, I was literally rolling on the floor because I could not handle the stuff that went down in that episode.

Put simply, I am a fangirl. (Hence why I have a Tumblr account. Tumblr is a hub for fangirls.)

But the most interesting part of all of this is that, despite the fact that these characters, these stories, these events are completely fictional, we can still allow ourselves to care. We allow ourselves to be absorbed into these imagined worlds and universes, to root for the people, to become so overwhelmed with happiness and sadness and anger and love that isn't actually ours to experience.

But that's the thing. It is ours.

I'll be blunt, sometimes reality really sucks. There are bills to pay, classes to attend, a job to excel in...we're expected to balance so many different aspects of our lives that sometimes all we want to do is just crawl in bed and stay there. Life is hard. I won't deny that.

But these stories...they're our escape. Our escape into another reality; sometimes even a more preferred one. They help influence us, and change our lives.

If you're like me, you're sure to have that one book that you've read a million times. That book that you recommend to every single person you encounter; the book that you've memorized just about every word of, and never get tired of cracking it open, just one more time. Sharing that book with others--seeing their faces as they, too, fall in love with the characters--is one of the best feelings in the world.

And for me, writing is like that feeling--only ten times better.

For a period of time, no matter how short, I get to immerse myself into a whole other world of my imagination. I get to BECOME my character; their friends become my friends, their worries are my worries. I get to experience things that I could never once hope to experience before, ever. I get to travel between worlds, fight in a rebellion, fall in love over and over and over again. I get to experience heartbreak, and joy, and overwhelming sadness that eats me up inside. And for a moment--just a single, fleeting moment--I get to forget about everything that happens in my less-than-average life. I get to forget about my homework, and my chores, and my job. I get to accomplish the impossible, to see this world and so many others through another pair of eyes.

I get to escape, and live, without consequence.

Sure, I always come back. I have to. I still have to manage my relationships, answer emails, make money, do laundry. I still have to stay connected to this world, to keep studying and fighting on, even when I would sometimes rather just curl up and ignore everything.

But my world is always waiting for me. Always waiting to comfort me, to allow me to fly, to dream, to experience the happy endings that reality says are impossible.

And that, my dear readers, is why I write.

Until later,

- Justyne