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White Church
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TITLE (EDIT)
White Church |
DESCRIPTION
A passing of innocence and the expectation of one's future.
[349 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Literary Fiction |
AUTHOR
John Karl |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Short story writer with great appreciation for Ellen, Ernest, Kurt, and... Micro-Fiction.
[September 2001] |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (4)
Eurojazz (Short Stories) Stuck in Italy, partying, and then some... [650 words] [Popular Fiction]
God Bless The President (Short Stories) Confrontation with knife wielding drunk in Oregon bar... did not have to be this way. [584 words] [Popular Fiction]
Heyman (Short Stories) Taipei: Big spiders, no drinking water, and lots of Taiwan Beer... Give me 10 reviews and I'll post pictures of the actual spiders ;) [557 words] [Popular Fiction]
On Orcas Island (Short Stories) Yuppie vacation to local resort... [269 words] [Popular Fiction]
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White Church
John Karl
'A lot of learning goes on in minds that never give up on things they know are true.'
"Where are you going?"
I'm not sure," she struggled and moved her hand across the white step railing with chipped paint warping up into the sky that led up to the church. Scrapings were falling to the ground like dry skin from her nervous movement. Noon was an hour away and all indications were a beautiful spring day as the sun glimmered off the campanile rising up into the cool blue December sky.
Everyone had left the church except a couple with their newborn talking with the pastor who had just baptized the child. They wanted to secure the comfort of their decision although
those feelings never last just as all good things fade away. Similarly, the boy was trying to keep the attention of the girl from waning as she looked for a way to go without committing her emotion anymore than she had to.
Some children were playing in dark green grass to the left of the building in clothes never meant to get dirty but the shade from the church was cool and their feelings were full of unguarded spirit. A crumpled littered cup was a soccer ball.
The boy was on the bottom brick step of the entrance as the girl turned slowly on its platform a few feet above him. There was a breeze coming through nearby trees covering an old graveyard but the air was too quiet to be called wind.
"I'll think I'll be coming back next fall," she said after a prolonged thoughtful silence meant to disturb the boy. It might as well have been forever to him as he looked at the ground and focused on an old yellow cigarette butt that had wedged itself between the grass and sidewalk.
"Maybe you could write me?" he mumbled to himself but she didn't here.
"I think I'd better go now," she said at last and walked down the steps, past him, and up the street.
The End
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READER'S REVIEWS (1)
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"Aside from some grammar and tense mistakes, along with a wordy sentence or two, it is beautiful, in its epic simplicity." -- Justin Kile, Howell, NJ, USA.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 1996 John Karl |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
September 2001 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2223
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