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Two cards. Two identical messages dripping with syrupy nonsense. Hearts and flowers tastefully displayed on blank backgrounds with 'Ruby Anniversary' looping in that handwritten font that no one ever uses with the paper inserts that make no sense. Each neatly tucked away in the back of the shelves, visible only to someone specifically searching for them.
Ivan glanced at the gaudy cards with their ridiculously patronising messages. A milestone in their lives reduced to an annoying turn of phrase that said nothing about the people who had accomplished it. They were all overly romanticised or sickly sweet. There was no middle ground. No "Well done for defying the odds". No general congratulations with enough blank space to let him say what he wanted to say without wanting to gag at the candy-floss sentiment.
Hiding them away again, he skimmed through the general cards but just as quickly dismissed them. Forty years was an achievement that should be acknowledged, not inserted as an afterthought. Dodging through the afternoon crowd, he curled his fingers round his keys, thinking over his choices.
The loud mumbles of the crowd and the clinical lighting did nothing to sooth his frustration. His footsteps became indistinguishable, becoming part of the swarm. Window displays tried to entice him while intense posters promised to solve his dilemma. Head buzzing, he stabbed a button on the wall, summoning the lift to grant him space to consider his next move.
There were only two people inside but Ivan felt claustrophobic just looking. Blinking first at the man's flushed cheeks, then at the woman's white knuckled hold on her bag strap, he considered leaving.
"Going down?"
He sidled in, face burning at the clipped tone and pointed glare. Tapping the unlit '1', he leaned against the wall, willing himself to somehow blend into the faux wood and mirrors.
The ride down was silent, save the awkward humming of the machinery. The woman's lips twitched at Ivan, eyes staring down the mirrored door. Adjusting her falling bag, she pressed it tighter to her tense body. Her husband (he must be since they wore matching rings) examined the buttons in fascination, each highlighting their descent, arms tightly crossed and hips angled towards the exit. The moment the doors opened on their floor, they were gone, moving as far apart as they could without separating.
Two cards. He was lucky there was even that choice.
Ivan glanced at the gaudy cards with their ridiculously patronising messages. A milestone in their lives reduced to an annoying turn of phrase that said nothing about the people who had accomplished it. They were all overly romanticised or sickly sweet. There was no middle ground. No "Well done for defying the odds". No general congratulations with enough blank space to let him say what he wanted to say without wanting to gag at the candy-floss sentiment.
Hiding them away again, he skimmed through the general cards but just as quickly dismissed them. Forty years was an achievement that should be acknowledged, not inserted as an afterthought. Dodging through the afternoon crowd, he curled his fingers round his keys, thinking over his choices.
The loud mumbles of the crowd and the clinical lighting did nothing to sooth his frustration. His footsteps became indistinguishable, becoming part of the swarm. Window displays tried to entice him while intense posters promised to solve his dilemma. Head buzzing, he stabbed a button on the wall, summoning the lift to grant him space to consider his next move.
There were only two people inside but Ivan felt claustrophobic just looking. Blinking first at the man's flushed cheeks, then at the woman's white knuckled hold on her bag strap, he considered leaving.
"Going down?"
He sidled in, face burning at the clipped tone and pointed glare. Tapping the unlit '1', he leaned against the wall, willing himself to somehow blend into the faux wood and mirrors.
The ride down was silent, save the awkward humming of the machinery. The woman's lips twitched at Ivan, eyes staring down the mirrored door. Adjusting her falling bag, she pressed it tighter to her tense body. Her husband (he must be since they wore matching rings) examined the buttons in fascination, each highlighting their descent, arms tightly crossed and hips angled towards the exit. The moment the doors opened on their floor, they were gone, moving as far apart as they could without separating.
Two cards. He was lucky there was even that choice.
Another piece that was created for my Creative Writing class.
This one was interesting and went through a number of revisions in the process of creating it. The idea was to think of a moment when we had an unwelcome revelation or had a moment of clarity. It then had to be made into fiction with our main character being a 30 year old Russian by the name of Ivan or Ivanna.
No stereotypes. No acknowledgment of their nationality. Just something to keep in mind the entire writing process.
This piece was created with my parents in mind, still together after almost 30 years of marriage. Quite an achievement in a world where divorce seems to be the norm. But I hate shopping for anniversary cards. So poor Ivan had to share my wrath.
This one was interesting and went through a number of revisions in the process of creating it. The idea was to think of a moment when we had an unwelcome revelation or had a moment of clarity. It then had to be made into fiction with our main character being a 30 year old Russian by the name of Ivan or Ivanna.
No stereotypes. No acknowledgment of their nationality. Just something to keep in mind the entire writing process.
This piece was created with my parents in mind, still together after almost 30 years of marriage. Quite an achievement in a world where divorce seems to be the norm. But I hate shopping for anniversary cards. So poor Ivan had to share my wrath.
© 2010 - 2024 Fairyshrub
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