This week’s challenge: Write a story in no more than 300 words that begins at a crossroads.
I arrived at the crossroads some twenty minutes earlier than expected. I wanted to be early. I wanted time to think before he arrived and I had to commit.
There was a seat on the northern side where the bus stop was. I sat there observing the movement around the crossroads.
Cars from the north would pull up, wait at the stop sign before moving off east, west or south. I wondered if they arrived at the stop sign unsure of where they would go next.
Were they tempted to make a detour?
Were they tempted to turn around and go back from where they came?
I was in that place. I knew I was.
He’d made it clear to me that today was the day to make decisions. He wasn’t going to be pussyfooting around me any longer. He wanted me to move in with him that way cutting down the time we spent going between each other’s houses.
The reality was we got along fine. I liked him but I wasn’t sure if I loved him. Maybe it was the old tapes playing inside my head of previous times when making a commitment such as this went pear shaped within days of me moving in.
I didn’t want to be stuck again.
There was something about his persistence that irritated me. He was crowding me and I knew it.
My own place was just as I wished it to be.
In the distance I could see the homeward bound bus approaching. It would take but a minute to cross the road and be on it.
I wondered what he made of me not being there when he arrived.