First Story Done

First story of 2013 done! Working title: “First Time”

I’m working on a series about the inhabitants of a resort town when a freak windstorm sweeps through on a Friday night. In this first story, two young lovers have planned to lose their virginity to one another in a sleeping bag. The romance is perfect in that high school way: an empty rental cabin, the dark tree-covered driveway, a patch of grass overlooking the valley, a bottle of wine. Then the clouds roll in and the wind picks up and the romance is spoiled.

In an effort to work toward capturing more exposition with fewer words, I’ve added a few details here that I think tell us a little about who these two are:

It was a rare Friday night that Winkie didn’t have to sit through one of Logan’s boring-ass basketball games. She’d told Mama she was going out with the girls but when Hannah parked her VW Bug at the quick mart, Winkie jumped into Tommy’s light blue GTO.

Once they arrive at the overlook:

Standing at the trunk, Winkie felt herself fit against Tommy, heard her heartbeat and felt a throb between her legs. She pulled him tighter but then he laughed off her hungry kiss.

“Relax, Winks,” he said, “We’ve got time.”

And, later:

“Your brother says some good wines have screw tops these days,” Tommy said.

The moment is here:

He rolled on top of her and held her face in his hands, his forearms on either side of her, the length of his body fitting neatly over the length of hers.

“You know I love you,” he said, a huskiness in his voice she hadn’t heard before.

“I know,” Winkie said. The wind took her voice, slipped between his kisses on her lips, her jaw, her neck.

Tommy took a deep breath. It was their first time. When he shoved himself inside of her she gasped.

Something broke. A loud crack, the splintering of something, a giving-in to the wind, then a branch ripped out of the giant tree behind them. It crashed onto the car a few feet away. The noise deafened them both.

Winkie squeezed her eyes shut. She felt him inside of her, felt him go soft. She opened her eyes. His face was lifted, his chin above her mouth. He stared at the GTO. Winkie was pinned. She couldn’t see what he saw, could only see the horror on his face. She twisted underneath him, arched her back, rolled her eyes up to her brow, and looked. She got an upside-down view of the GTO, bent and tortured under the branch.

Crushed.

Later, he stumbles out of the sleeping bag, naked, and approaches the car like a zombie. An unrelated memory comes to Winkie and she starts laughing. Her laughter, understandably, annoys Tommy. The exchange between them becomes distant until finally, he tells her he’s called her brother to come get them.

I’d like to add some details. I debated whether or not to explain why Winkie is called “Winkie” but haven’t figured out whether I want to do that here or not. We don’t know much about Tommy except he loves his car (but why?) and he looks up to Winkie’s brother (again, why?) and I’ve been asking whether the answers to those questions are important or not.

It’s a work in progress, but I’m pleased with it. I’ve put it aside as story #1 and am now moving on to #2.

Leave me your thoughts: Have you taken on the 13 Short Stories in 2013 Challenge? How’s it coming?

4 thoughts on “First Story Done

  1. Good job, Kasie! I liked the voice of Winkie (and her unique name), especially when she talks about Logan’s basketball games. I loved that one line Tommy says about the wines with screw tops. The sudden transition and double meaning of “something broke” also worked for me.

    I’m not doing the short story challenge but am reading others’ works to experience it vicariously. Good luck!

    • Thanks, Jennifer.

      The story started for me with this absurd memory that she has and whether it would interrupt an “important” moment. But the branch fell on the car before the memory could happen. Now I’m wondering if the memory needs to come first? Set up the “comedy” of the branch falling.

      Can you tell I’m not a comedy writer? Ha!

  2. I like what I’ve seen :) Winkie rocks.
    Did she play tiddley-winks as a kid? Some traumatic game-playing legacy? Couldn’t master the wink without struggle? Was it a small triumph of youth she never lived down?
    To give you an update on my own progress: January’s story was flash fiction for Chuck Wendig. February’s is nearly done. Submission’s due Friday, so I have to get on with it (!)
    The challenge is working :) Thanks for the boot to the bootie 😉

    • Hi, Mel,

      Glad you’re making progress! Winkie got her name when she was a baby; she would wink one eye. It’s probably because she needed glasses or something, but the nickname stuck. I think it’s a pixie-like, mischievous name.

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