Writing Samples

I’ll post new (and some old) writing samples here.  Please let me know what you think.  I’d love honest (kind) feedback.  That’s the only way to get better!

Stranger on a Train – A Short Story

An Empty Seat – A Short Story

The sound of the light switch clicking on broke the silence as if a gun had been fired into the sky. He stood in the doorway and looked at the room like he was seeing it for the first time. The bed they had shared lay empty before him. Her open suitcase, still perfectly organized, sat on the floor of the open closet door. Her reading glasses lay folded on the bedside table as though she had just been wearing them an hour ago. An hour ago she had been breathing.

Joe walked into the room and sat gingerly on the bed. He reached out and lightly touched her pillow. His hand looked old. He hadn’t noticed that before. Where had the time gone? They had built a life together. They had two daughters who were now motherless. What was he going to do? He wanted to crawl between the sheets and go to sleep. He wanted to stop the thoughts and images that took over his mind. He wanted to talk to her about all of this. He needed her to help him figure out how to go on.

It took every last bit of energy he had to get up off the bed. His sister had been kind enough to book him a flight home. He had to get to his girls. They would need him now more than they ever had. Julie had raised them. He was their dad, but he was an attorney. He was at the office before they got up and often there until long after they were asleep. They were teenagers. What did he know about raising teenage girls?

He walked to her suitcase and fingered the delicate folded items. He picked up a shirt that lay on top of one of the neat piles and pressed it against his face. His knees started to buckle and he knelt on the floor there in the closet. Her scent overtook him. He didn’t know if it was laundry detergent, her soap, her lotion, or just…her. He felt a sob rise in his throat and he fell into a heap on the carpet. He had to keep it together. He had responsibilities. He couldn’t breathe. Get up, he told himself. You have a plane to catch. Move.

He managed to get to his feet and lay the shirt back in the suitcase. The bag he had carried with him from the hospital lay next to where he had sat on the bed. He picked it up and laid it on top of the other clothes in the suitcase. The name Methodist Hospital was printed on the large plastic bag in bright, blue letters. Before that night, that name had meant nothing to him. He closed his eyes and saw her lying on the gurney in the emergency room. She was wearing the little black dress she had bought when they were shopping earlier that day. He hated shopping, but she had wanted something nice to wear to celebrate their anniversary. The trip had been his idea and she was beside herself with excitement. She was just 46. And now she was dead.

He glanced at the clock and saw he was running out of time. He walked as quickly as he could into the bathroom. Her toothbrush and make-up bag were lying next to the sink with her hairspray bottle and brush. Even though she was careful to clean it out regularly, several strands of her golden blonde hair lay wrapped around the bristles like a cruel puzzle never meant to be solved. Her hair. He ran a finger between the bristles and felt the soft, thin blanket. He remembered those strands of hair between his fingers as he held her head and face while they kissed. Tears dripped down his cheeks as he put the remaining items in her bag.

It didn’t take him but a few minutes to grab his things and pack them. He didn’t place them neatly in his suitcase; he threw them in hastily. He didn’t care about them. They were just shirts and pants. They would travel home with him. She wouldn’t. Her body would be flown home after the autopsy. Her beautiful chest would be cut open. They would take out her precious heart and try to figure out why it had failed her. His mind again drifted back to the emergency room where they had attempted to revive her for a full 15 minutes. The doctors and nurses were working so hard that sweat darkened their scrubs. They had let him say goodbye and when he kissed her, her heart suddenly began to beat again before never beating again.

He drug the suitcases out to the rental car, loaded them in and started it. He looked at the seat next to him and realized this was how it was going to be. Just him. No more beautiful Julie smiling next to him. He took a deep breath and put the car in reverse.

He made his way to the gate after checking the two bags and sat down waiting for the gate agent to call his flight. The ticket counter agent had to wonder what was wrong with him when he had handed her his ticket.  

“Sir, there’s a Julie booked in the reservation with you.  Is she with you?”  He had been unable to respond.  He feared if he opened his mouth to speak, he would unravel one cell at a time.  He shook his head and looked down at the shiny surface of the counter, the reflection of the man at the computer next to her so clear it could have been a mirror.

Now, as he looked at the other people waiting for his flight, he thought about the fact that none of them knew how his life had been turned upside down. There were many couples, families with young kids, and a couple of college students all oblivious to the unbearable pain he was suffering.

When his boarding group was called, he got up, got in line and handed the agent his boarding pass. His feet felt like concrete blocks as he made his way down the jet way. The smiling flight attendant welcomed him aboard and he found a window seat just over the wing. How was it possible that he was flying home alone?

“Excuse me, sir, is this seat taken?

A little boy, maybe ten years old, pointed at the seat next to him. His voice broke as he answered him.

“No, son. No, it’s not.”

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