Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

A Revelation

“You remind me of somethin’ I meant ter tell ya.”

I turned around. A man was standing there, swaying, with dribble leaking down his chin. Stubble lined his harsh face, and bags lined his eyes. “Me?” I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yes, siree. The truth is it was an accident. I’s never meant to hurt no one.”

“That’s what everyone says. No one ever means to hurt anyone.” Today was such a terrible day I seemed neither to realize nor care that this man was some drunk hobo walking through the park. I was just sitting on the bench, and apparently I was his next target.

“She loved me. I know she did. Maybe I could’ve-”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” I interrupted. “People react in different ways, and there’s no way you could’ve known how she would react. Go back. Find her. Talk to her. It could do wonders.”

“But-”

“Leave me alone. I’ve my own problems to quell.”

I got up and walked away, leaving the drunken and swaying man alone with a dying oak, a peeling and lonesome bench, and the leaves rolling in the wind. Suddenly, I knew what to do.

The Truth

The searing heat of the sun blazed down my spine in jagged ridges, amassing to an inconvenience unprecedented by any other. Breathing heavily, the cold of the smooth door enticed me to enter the bar. I sat down, troubles of home staying in the unbearable sauna of summer.

I signaled for a drink, just to hold, never to touch my lips. My eyes stared into the dark liquid, my pain seeping off in large waves into the dewy glass.
“Ya remind me of somethin’ I meant ter tell ya…” slurring massively, he hiccupped abruptly, rocking the drops of condensation on my glass and throwing my concentration into a further loop.

I turned around. The man was standing there, swaying, with dribble leaking down his chin. Stubble lined his harsh face, and bags lined his eyes. “Me?” I whispered roughly, confused.

“Yes, siree. The truth is it was an accident. I’s never meant to hurt nobody.”

I laughed, startling even myself. “That’s what they all say. No one ever means to hurt anyone.” Today was such a terrible day that I neither realized nor cared that this man was just some drunk hobo, who happened to have wandered in from a nearby park. Apparently I just was his next target, someone to spill his guts out to.

“She loved me. I know she did. Maybe if I’da-”

“There is nothing you could’ve done,” I interrupted. “People react in different ways, and there’s no way you could’ve known how she would react. Go back. Find her. Talk to her. It could do wonders.”

“But-”
“Leave me alone. I have my own problems to quell.”

I got up and walked away, leaving the drunken and swaying man alone in the icy bar with the chill sinking into his pale and putrid skin. I walked out through those smooth doors into the soothing heat with the sun’s rays glinting off the passerby in a brilliant rainbow. I knew what to do.

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