And the story goes on…

He sat waiting. Having a drink before she shows seem to be the thing to do. He wasn’t used to blind dates. And going on a blind date that his younger sister set up for him seemed like even a worse idea. It kind of reminded him of the time she had to pick him up from the airport. She arrived on a bicycle built for two. It probably would have been okay if it wasn’t for the luggage.

So, I sat waiting. Drinking. Wondering, what is this girl going to be like? This is the girl that my sister had described as a fun, outgoing, gal with a great personality. Decoded, that means lonely, desperate, and fat. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I, myself, am no longer in any kind of shape to be making fat jokes, believe me.

I sipped the cocktail in front of me, vodka martini, lemon twist… my drink of choice when I want to be social. My mind started to wonder and think back of all the past girlfriends, and my last wife, god rest her soul. I tried to remember what to say and how to act. It had been over twenty years since I had been on a date. I had to start thinking of how to be a gentleman all over again. When you’re married for fifteen plus years, you tend to forget those basic gentleman things you ought to do.

I must look nervous. The bar tender keeps looking at me as if I’m turning more white before his eyes. “You okay,” he asks, “You look like you need some water. Let me get you some.”

He brought me a tall glass of ice water and I nodded, as if to say thank you, but the words couldn’t escape my mouth. Dry mouth. That’s all I needed. I went to take that first sip of water when I noticed in the mirror across from me, a woman that appeared to be alone. She looked as if she was looking for someone. Could this be her?

She notices me sitting alone at the bar and starts to walk over. As she got closer, I couldn’t believe my eyes.



Photo provided by James H. Morris Photography

As he sat at the table, drinking his second martini, his thoughts of what to do next clouded his mind. He couldn’t believe he had just left her there. Should he go back? Should he move on? Should he report what he had done?

“Another martini, barkeep,” was what he came up with and is what he said. But the bartender brought him more than just his drink.

… your turn… Finish the story.

Maui Morning

Photo provided by

The morning was warm. The air was heavy. The morning sun had just started to rise over the mountains behind him and show it’s pinkish-orange haze on the clouds lingering over the island in front of him. He turned around and saw her sleeping in bed. She laid there wearing nothing more than a slight grin on her face, as the memory of the night before lingered in her dreams.

He sat on the balcony lounge chair, sipping his cup of coffee. He heard the sliding glass door open. He didn’t turn around, because he knew who it was.

… to be continued.


Your turn… finish the scene in your own words in the comments.

The Journey Begins

Thanks for joining me!

This site is going to be an interactive posting site. It’s meant to spark creativity in your writing by simply providing a photograph and one or two paragraphs describing a scene. The rest is up to you.

If something inspires you to finish a “story,” please post it in the comment section and share with the rest of the world.

Thanks, and happy writing.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton