Creative Writing

Include the following in one story

  • A taxi

  • An old enemy

  • Valentines day

The muffled buzz of the city traps me in my own head. I hesitate, the door handle settled nicely into the crook of my palm, not wanting to go anywhere, just like me. The driver turns around in his seat and gives me the side eye. I can read what is going on in his head, girl you crazy get out of my taxi… so I do. My first step is apprehensive, almost as if my legs have forgotten what they have been doing for the past 24 years, but then they get into a steady rhythm and pull me out of the car and onto the sidewalk without even thanking the patient man who drove me all this way. The constant hustle and bustle of the people and the smell of hot dogs is even more evident than what it was looking at the pictures. New York has always been known as a busy place, but now, stopping and taking it all, busy is an understatement.

432 Park Avenue towers overhead. With one deep breath, my feet lead me inside, through the revolving doors and onto the polished marble floor. The concierge smiles warmly, and for some reason, I gravitate towards her. I guess that is what happens when you have no clue what you are doing. She welcomes me, which is a bit of an insult, as she can tell I am new here. But never the less she is wanting to help me, so for some weird reason, I start to tell her everything. I tell her about Micheal and the cute house with the white picket fence we owned. How one day, one very special day, Micheal never came home. It was Valentine’s day and I had everything lined up, I had a box of chocolates with some flowers and a commitment ring, showing my love towards him. I sat on the couch for three hours in my new laundry waiting for him to come home to my surprise, three hours, but he never did. I called him, over and over and over, until he sent me a text. I got so excited, but then it was the automated text, ‘I’m on my way’. So I got back into position, then he turned up. Not alone. With a girl, Vannessa was her name. They were holding hands and Mich says to me, looks me right in the eyes and I look into his deep brown rich chocolate eyes and he says, I have something to tell you. So many things were going through my head, causing a dizzy blur. He then proceeded to tell me in the most long-winded way that this Vanessa girl, well she was carrying his child, and he wants to be present in their life. He said he’s moving out blah blah blah all those horrible things. I didn’t know what to do or say. Locked myself in the bathroom I did until I was sure he was gone, when I walked out he wasn’t there and so wasn’t all his stuff. Lucky I had the chocolates. ONe year of that event is tomorrow, and for the past year I have been living with my parents, but it has become too hard. I see Vannessa, Micheal and little Johnny walking around town, just two months ago I saw that, so I am moving to New York, to start fresh. The poor lady is staring at me, she askes my name. Jennifer Matthew, I state. she replies with apartment 39. I feel as if I apologize, but I don’t.

The elevator smells like detergent. I ride all the way up to the 95th floor, one of the top. When I hear the ding my attention comes towards the door, which slides open gracefully. I walk the corridor looking around and a tall blonde lady holding the hand of a cute little boy with rich brown eyes walks past. I smile, they must be my neighbours, maybe I can make friends with her and bake her some cookies. WAIT. I know that face. I backtrack and stare her down. no no no. my ovaries fell as if they are about to fall off, it is the witch, Vannessa, and a really cute little boy Johnny.

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