I’m going to do something a little different. I’m going to challenge myself by writing a story only using words with one syllable. I remember doing this in my creative writing class, but I can’t find the story, so I have no choice but to make a new one.
When he gets to the car, he has no clue what to say, so he starts with, “Why?”
“I don’t know. You tell me,” she says back.
“You and I both know what you did. Why can’t you come out and say it?”
Fog grows more and more in the car. It’s hot in and out of the car; they can’t run from the heat.
“Can I roll this down?” she asks.
“It’s hot in here. Come on.”
He puts on the child lock. There’s no place to run to. It’s dark out and no one else is close by. It’s just them, in the locked car.
“I don’t know.”
“So you did it? I knew it.”
His eyes sink in his head and his jaw drops. His fears have come true.
She looks at his face and knows she messed up, but he still does not know the whole story. She tries to clear her mind to see if there’s more good or bad in her choice. She stares at his as he speaks, but she does not hear what he says.
“What do you think I did to you?” she asks, even though she knows what he’ll say.
His eyes meet hers and he’s not sure what he sees. He tries to dig deep in them, to see if she will tell the truth, but she’s too good. There’s no way he’ll find out why, but he feels if he can get her to give him a hint, a word; the way she’d say it would give him a lead.
“My golf clubs,” he bursts out, as she says, “Wait, there’s more.”
“Did you say something?” he asks.
“Next to the door. In our room.”
He looks at her and she seems scared. He does not know why, but then he thinks she moved them, so he tells her to cheer up and starts the car. He pulls out of the lot and asks if she liked the film. She nods her head and that was the last thing they said to each other on the ride home.
Let me know what you think and if I ended up using a word with more than one syllable. I know this isn’t a masterpiece, but it was a lot of fun. Try it out for yourselves.