I have never really been much of a traditional romance writer, it just happens to be a genre I struggle with as most of my characters tend to possess traits that are generally unassociated with it.
I’m pretty sure the only experience I have with romance writing is with the game Shelf Life: A Maize-Based Love Story, for which I did some of the writing alongside a group of pretty cool people.
Still, here is a little something I scribbled a while back for a contest that wanted slight twists on traditional romantic fiction.
If you click ‘Read More’ you can read the story.
It’s The Little Things – By Patrick Ward
He hunched himself to the tiled island of the kitchen centre, as his skeletal hands were trembling as they grasped the warm cup.
His face was weary, pale and tired, his clothes worn and shabby.
His once bright eyes, were heavily shadowed and his eyelids strained to remain open.
I reach up behind him and snake my arms across his stomach to hold him tight to my chest, and I can feel his ribs along his painfully thin body. Every bone, seems to jut out, his skin seems only painted on, tightly against his bones. No fat, nor muscle puffs him out.
I place a chaste kiss to the back of his head, and mutter “Good morning” to him.
I am gifted with a gruff reply, which I take to mean the same, but knowing him, it probably was more along the lines of questioning the validity of the ‘good’ part of the phrase.
Still, I take solace in those moments with him, where he is coherent enough to acknowledge me, but not enough to want to lock himself away again.
He padders to the confines of the sofa, and unceremoniously curls into his place, like a hedgehog to a ball. I slide next to him on the worn leather, and gently take his hand in mine, and rub my thumb gently along his bony dorsal.
He breaks a soft smile at this gesture and slowly leans to rest his head on my shoulder.
Copyright © 2013 – 2016 Patrick Ward – All Rights Reserved.