Asma Ahsan Asma Ahsan
Recommendations: 31

"---one that a Zamboni has just serviced(.)" Add a full stop inside the quotation marks.

Asma Ahsan Asma Ahsan
Recommendations: 31

Isn't there a copyright problem if you use an actual persons name in a story without their permission. Just curious. :)

Jim Miller Jim Miller
Recommendations: 29

You might be right. I don't know.

Asma Ahsan Asma Ahsan
Recommendations: 31 can make it Misty, Misty yakamuchi. :p

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Jim Miller Jim Miller
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She had a friend.

It was all a sham.  She was dressed as if she was cultured and worldly.  But she knew the truth and the truth, like usual, didn’t agree with appearances.  "If only she was the person she portrayed.  Then she would be enjoying this party."

People were dressed in formal attire, some engaging in conversations of two to four, and some waiting alone for the next conversation to occur.  It looked like an aimless, nondescript dance to her.

She looked at the drink in her hand as if it didn’t really interest her, and the truth was that it didn’t.  A promising man turned to her briefly and made a hapless comment, before he quickly turned away from her and wandered off in a different direction.

“In search of easier prey,” She thought without really caring, “I hope he catches what he wants.”

She wandered over to the appetizers and studied them carefully, as if she was very interested and this was an important decision for her.  The truth was that she was not even hungry.  She turned her gaze upward.  Now this reminded her of something familiar.  Her eyes focused, first upon it, and then beyond it, as if surveying something in the distance.  Slowly, as if mesmerized, she reached out to touch it.

The ice sculpture was that of a large bird, wings flared, and taking off for flight.  While it was true that this itself evoked in her a feeling of freedom, it was the ice that drew her.  "Like the smooth surface of newly glazed rink---one that a Zamboni has just serviced."  While her eyes surveyed the bird and the ice, her mind envisioned a lifetime of positive experience, and she flew over the ice in her mind once more, as she had done so many times in real life. 1 comment

“It’s ‘funny’” she thought, “when all else fails, something will come to our rescue’ and remind us of something that comforts us.”

“Do you like the ice sculpture?” another nameless suit with a drink asked, trying to lure her.

“Yes," she nodded truthfully, "I like it very much.  Why do you like it?”

“Well . . . Well . . . he faltered, and then raised his glass, proclaiming brightly, "Because it’s pretty!”

“What a perfectly awful answer,” she thought.

But then she said, “Yes, it is. It reminds me of ice skating.”

“I don’t see that.”

“Personal reminiscence.”

“I had a polo pony, once,” he offered, ”that I still reminisce about.  It always makes me feel something . . . something good to remember.”

“Maybe he’s not so far off after all.”  She looked at him for the first time.

“I think you understand,” she confessed.

“But I still can’t skate.”

“You know where to find the ice, though.  That's something.”

“It will always be familiar.  It will always soothe us, and make us feel good.”

“Yes, it levels the playing field.” she agreed.”

“I didn’t catch your name,” he fished bravely.

“Misty, Misty Yamaguchi.” 3 comments

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