Good Narrative Principles

Charley Baby


IMG_0312It must have been easier back in the day believing that Cupid flew around with a magic dart that he shot off in one direction or another claiming hearts. That way you could fall in love with the schmoo down the block who barely got it together to find his way home each night. Elizabeth first met Charley in a Continuing Ed class on Greek Myths. She liked sitting in the middle, in this one particular chair, which was neither too close to the front to seem like a “suck-up” nor too far back. It was like Goldilocks (another class Elizabeth would eventually take), “just right”. Late in the semester, at a point when anyone with half a cup of social intelligence would know that Elizabeth sat here, Charley, a guy who rarely said a word, claimed her spot. Full of righteous indignation, she told him as directly as possible that this was her seat. Her chair. Charley looked at her with half a smile (maybe a smirk?) and said “get over it”. Elizabeth fumed, unable to focus on the lively discussion about Persephone even though the temperature hadn’t crested above zero in days. She had been anticipating the discussion on six pomegranate seeds being at the root of it all. Instead, she was planning her revenge, starting with keying his car. After class, Elizabeth corralled Charley by the door. Again, she tried to make her point. Refusing to yield to her logic, he somehow shepherded her to the local bar. There, in the dark, with his lumpy middle hidden by a table, Charley’s wit sparkled. Vacillating between attraction and repulsion, Elizabeth’s stomach grew tight then warm, finally yielding to his charms.

Leave a Reply

Required fields are marked *.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.