Continuing with the Creative Writing Challenge for Phoneography Month, I thought I’d also try my hand at today’s challenge: 2 A.M. Photo. The gist is you get a photo text with no words at 2 in the morning. What is the photo and what’s the deal with it? Well, here’s my photo. (It’s not actually mine, I grabbed it off a Google search.)
The pitch black of my room illuminates with the soft light of photographic snow and wolf fur off my cellphone. I walk to the light through the drenched swamps overrunning London and back to my bed, a touch of the gaseous haze lingering in my eyes. A swift reach and the phone is in my hand, held a safe distance from dilated pupils. My focus is drawn to the bus-colored envelope at the top left of the screen; a text message. A quick glimpse to the opposing corner, letting me know that the sender, whoever they are, is going to get a hard kick to the crotch in the morning. Rest my eyes from the still-scorching light and let me fingers do the work, reopen with the expectation of a quickly-read translation. Instead, I find my stomach growling. There is a simple wooden basket, the kind that could be easily mistaken for a hat box if it were painted. The wicker-woven lid set catty-corner on top, and within a mound of perfectly arranged dim sum. The most lovely and appetizing arrangement of dumplings I have ever seen. All weariness leaves my head, and for a moment I’m in anticipating bliss, until, of course, I realize again that is it 2 in the morning. The name above the divine assortment is the usual culprit to my disturbed nights for the past 7 years, my insomniac boyfriend. Hunger-induced drool fades as the furrow in my brow deepens. I unleash my growing impatience into my well-trained thumbs as the letters appear one-by-one.
What the hell? I’m trying to sleep. Now I’m wide awake and starving. Thanks. -.-
The half-second hesitance before the prepared words become a statement allow a new phrase to caption the decadent picture.
Took my hand at dumplings today. They turned out, so I made you some for when you come over tomorrow. Can’t wait to see you. Love ya!
The strain on my creased forehead loosens into the inevitable smile he always manages to bring me. 7 years, and I’m still surprised. A few flashes of my fingertips and the hesitance is gone as I press SEND.
They look delicious. I can’t wait either. Love you too!
So this has never actually happened. My boyfriend couldn’t make spaghetti the first 5 times without asking me how to cook the ground beef. But this is still the kind of thing he’d do. Except he’d have bought the dim sum, but ah well. Creative writing liberties and all that. ^_^