[stylist] The heart of it: chapter 1.

[Judith Bron]

Nice start.  It needs some editting, but I'm  not an editor.  Judith
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Alan" <awheeler at neb.rr.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, October 05, 2009 10:20 AM
Subject: [stylist] The heart of it: chapter 1.


> Hi everyone,
> This is the first chapter in the story  I was seeking so much advice 
> about.  Let me know what you think of it as a start.
>
> Alan
>
> The heart of it
>
> By: Alan Wheeler
>
>
>
> chapter one
>
> Heart Break
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> BUMP!!
>
> Michael looked up from his section of the Sunday paper as he and Anna sat 
> in the front of the first class section of the airplane. The jolt of 
> turbulence brought Michael back to his distracted thoughts. He and Anna 
> weren't moving, no real "turbulence" for them,  they were stagnating, 
> standing still, and it was driving him mad.
>
>
>
> Oh, they loved each other, that wasn't the problem.  It was communicating; 
> communicating their love for each other to each other, communicating 
> without putting the other on the defensive all the time.  Those were the 
> problem areas for them and they both knew it.  Yet, neither Michael or 
> Anna took steps to remedy the problem.  It had become like that proverbial 
> elephant in the living room that no one speaks of, but rather walks a wide 
> circle around, simply to avoid it.
>
>
>
> Michael had hoped their trip to South America would nudge them out of this 
> routine, cause them to break down barriers, but it didn't happen that way. 
> No change occurred at all, in fact.
>
>
>
> He looked over at her as she read her Stephen King novel, and his heart 
> seemed to stutter in his chest, as beating every other beat.  He loved her 
> so much, and yet felt so far away.  It hurt him; hurt him deep.  He caught 
> her looking at him out of the corner of her eye, and the look on her face 
> told him in no uncertain terms she was thinking about the very same 
> things.  He saw the love in her eyes, but he also saw a seemingly 
> bottomless sadness and loneliness there, too.
>
>
>
> He wanted to throw down his newspaper, tell her just how deeply he loved 
> her and demand she say what she was thinking.  It was futile, though.  It 
> was futile because Michael knew that he would balk if she made the same 
> demand of him.  He had tried to open up, tried to get past the barriers he 
> felt between them, but it was like body-slamming a brick wall.  All he 
> could bring himself to do was brush a lock of her long, black hair out of 
> her face.  It was a gesture of affection, to him, anyway, but she just 
> vaguely glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and continued to 
> read.
>
>
>
>
>
> ***
>
>
>
>
>
> Anna felt Michael's hand brush the loose lock of hair.  She really did 
> love him.  He was like no man she had ever known, let alone loved.  Yet, 
> for her it seemed like her head was extroverted and her heart introverted. 
> She could talk with him about their work in South America, the impact that 
> work would have back in the states, and do so for hours.
>
>
>
> On the other hand, though, ask her to express her love for him, and it as 
> if she were pathologically shy, or mute or something like that.
>
>
>
> Ask her to talk about some way, big or small in which Michael may have 
> hurt her, even just with a unintended sleight, and her emotional throat 
> closed up and her voice was, in a manner of speaking, gone.
>
>
>
> She hated herself for it but she kept waiting on Michael to be the one to 
> open up. She knew she should take the first step since it seemed Michael 
> never would.  Unfortunately, she seemed too mired in it all to take that 
> step.  She recalled how she once thought being a better housewife would 
> tilt  the balance, and cause them to open up to each other.  But, it was 
> like the lyric she had heard in a song by the band Wilco says, "keeping 
> things clean doesn't change anything."
>
>
>
> They both sat, mutely gazing at each other, suddenly and for no apparent 
> reason, and silently knew something had to break, and both wondered if it 
> ever would.
>
>
>
> ***
>
>
>
> Suddenly, for Michael, something did.  It had nothing whatsoever to do 
> with their relationship.  It was pain, starting from the left side of his 
> chest and slowly radiating down his arm.  For the love of everything holy, 
> was he having a heart attack?  Here?  On this airplane?  He squeezed 
> Anna's hand, almost violently.  His eyes registered her shock and horror 
> as she realized something was wrong, then everything faded to black, just 
> like a TV show or movie.
>
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