Monday, July 13, 2009

Entry #91

Intervention
by Jennifer D. Jones


She expected the call and wondered why they had waited. Eyes pierced the goblet, prism vision through wine silt stripe. Above the line, the phone pulsed red and she felt false power in willing it to stop at four. The machine below trapped condolence from cowards and a distant ding announced the arrival of more lilies, perhaps a temperamental ficus.

Liquid distorted perspective as she slumped and focused on the offering. Two sunken bands lie buried in dregs, diamonds extinguished. She calculated the times he’d used the glass before they poured this last together. This time it was his idea. There was no ultimatum. She would wait for him to heal. An empty bottle stood on granite slab, salient witness to this final vow.

The recorded greeting confirmed his absence and beeped before the caller gave the scripted line, “Dr. Thompson, we missed you at check-in on Monday. Please contact the center to reschedule your stay or let us know if you have made other arrangements.” Resurrected from his favorite leather chair, she glided into the kitchen. With broken fingers she lifted the receiver and started to make other arrangements.

19 comments:

Aniket said...

Wonder what made her get to such a pitiful state. Hope se finds her resolve.

Loved how you portrayed the struggle.

Laurel said...

This was so well written. Visual and visceral. Nice touch with the "false power" and "trapped condolence from cowards."

Thanks for a good read.

Catvibe said...

Interesting and painful.

jentropy said...

Thanks for reading and commenting! I'm still finding my way around the site, but I love what I'm reading. This is a lot of fun!

dan powell said...

Very emotive piece, Jen. Great to see you've enetered too. :)

The Preacherman said...

Very emotive is almost an understatement.

Wow!



Four Dinners

laughingwolf said...

totally unexpected...

JR's Thumbprints said...

Maybe it's just me, maybe it's because I work in a prison, but I want to know more about those broken fingers, every frickin' detail; yet, I understand the 250-word limit.

Kurt Hendricks said...

Wonderful imagery. While I also want to know about the details of the broken fingers, I simultaneously enjoy the oblique, poetic flow of the story. Well done.

jentropy said...

Thanks, everyone. It's nice to have so much feedback. And I'm not telling! The story is whatever you make of it. It doesn't really matter what was in my mind when I wrote it. :)

Hoodie said...

Masterfully done!

If only he'd made it a few more days!

Brian said...

Very nice piece. You have captured a dark moment that has been lived by far too many people. You have to ask yourself, "is it really the last glass, for him or her?" and "what other arrangements is she making?"

Chris Eldin said...

YOu made me want to pull for your characters. Nicely done! I too, have questions, but doesn't stop the enjoyment of this piece!

pjd said...

Oh, what a cop-out, Jennifer! The story is what we make it, never mind what you were thinking. No, we want the rest!

Seriously, very intriguing and haunting language. Answering machines and doorbells, cowards and missed appointments. I can't quite figure out why you used the word "offering," and why the fingers are broken. Is the bottle supposed to be a "salient" or a "silent" witness? (Your other words are so carefully chosen, it's a real question...)

Very, very good prose.

jentropy said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
jentropy said...

Tried to edit my comment and it didn't work. Sorry.

@pjd They put their wedding rings in the wine glass, his last, a symbol (he didn't drink it). He was going to a treatment facility. The rings were an offering. Salient was intentional. All the words were intentional. She broke her fingers in the accident that killed him on the way to treatment.

Shadows said...

Brilliant, brilliant brilliant! The Muse finally talked to you, and I am so GLAD. Thanks for sharing your talent with us. =)

JaneyV said...

Jentropy - I loved this piece. Your descriptions were rich and intense. I paricularly loved the line
Two sunken bands lie buried in dregs, diamonds extinguished.
It seems to be the key line in the piece.

Thanks also for giving the explanation. Rereading it makes everything more poignant.

jason evans said...

I'm wondering if he's going to heal. This seems like the aftermath of something brutal.