dontravis.com blog post #575
Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
THE
JANUS EFFECT
In Roman mythology, Janus was
the god of gates and doorways who gazed simultaneously in two directions,
signifying a look at the beginning and the end… or a view of opposites. This
writing exercise attempts to do just that.
From Robert’s viewpoint:
I slurped the last of my
strawberry milkshake as Samantha exploded through the door and steamed across
the black and white checkered tile floor directly to my table, bringing with
her storm clouds and the scent of gale-lashed roses.
“Hi, Sammy. Have a seat.” My
voice sounded loud in the quiet atmosphere of the malt shop.
“Don’t start with me, Robert.
You know I hate being called that. And just what do you think you’re doing?”
I could almost see flames from
her flaring nostrils, although she looked nothing like a dragon. Not even a
cute one. “That’s a dynamite hat. Looks great on you. You should wear it more
often.”
That threw her for a loop. Her blue eyes widened momentarily before
returning to mere slits. “Answer my question. Just what did you say to Hank?”
“Let me get you something.
What would you like? No, wait. I know just the thing.” I got up and walked to
the counter, feeling her eyes flay my back like a laser.
A couple of minutes later, I
returned to the table with her favorite… an old-fashioned cherry phosphate. She
couldn’t hide a momentary look of pleasure. Some of the color faded from her
cheeks. Guess I knew how to cool her down.
After one dainty draw on her
straw, Sammy stared directly into my eyes. “Answer my question? What did you
say to Hank?”
“Did you know he was
two-timing you?”
Aha, caught her off guard. Her
eyes were ping pong balls for about a tenth of a second. And now, they weren’t
so squinty.
“Don’t go spreading that nasty
rumor,” she said, struggling to maintain her attitude, “And if you don’t answer
my question right this minute, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Time to bring this to a close.
I rose, gazed down on her, and dropped my voice. “I told him that if he hurt
you, he’d have to deal with me.”
With that, I turned and walked
away before I confessed something I ought not. Not right now, at any rate.
From
Samantha’s viewpoint:
I stormed through the ice cream shop door and
spotted him at a table across the checkered tile floor, slurping the dregs of a
strawberry milkshake through a straw striped like a barber’s pole. His greeting
did nothing to improve my mood.
“Hi, Sammy. Have a seat.”
I saw red as I dropped into the white painted,
iron curlicue chair opposite him. He knew that nickname infuriated me. “Don’t
start with me, Robert. You know I hate being called that. And just what do you
think you’re doing?”
He regarded me through dark chocolate irises.
“That’s a dynamite hat. Looks great on you. You should wear it more often.”
Oh, no. That wasn’t going to work, although I
was momentarily pleased he’d noticed my black Dutch boy with a brown brim. “Answer
my question. Just what did you say to Hank?”
The idiot ignored me. “Let me get you something.
What would you like? No, wait. I know just the thing.”
He bailed out of his chair and fled to the
counter, most likely to escape by my anger. I couldn’t help but notice how his
broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist.
He was back a minute later with my favorite. A
cherry phosphate. Damn, he would pick the one place in town that served the
things. Well, he’s not going to coddle me out of my snit. Still, no sense
wasting the drink. I took a deep tug on the straw, swallowed, and faced him
again.
“Answer my question? What did you say to Hank?”
His face turned bland. Crap, he was good
looking even while bland. “Did you know he was two-timing you?”
The dirty creep. That was a low blow. Play it
cool, girl. “Don’t go spreading that nasty rumor. And if you don’t answer my
question right this minute, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Something happened to his face. It closed up.
He surprised me by standing and staring straight into my eyes. He smelled of
the milkshake he’d just imbibed. “I told him that if he hurt you, he’d have me
to deal with.” Then he walked away.
Audacious bastard! Who does he think he is?
He’s not my knight in shining armor. I don’t need—
Still, it was sorta sweet of him.
Two different viewpoints
of the same scene in this little exercise. Don’t know about you, but I found it
interesting.
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