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Practice Writing - Blog Posts
Story #26 which is a CPE letter.
Dear Editor,
I am writing in response to the editorial about friendship published on April 1. It deeply resonated with me and I started contemplating my own connection with someone who is based in another country. As challenging as it seems at times, it also may be one of the most rewarding life experiences.
Similar to other people mentioned in the publication, we struck up a friendship over the Internet. N. lived in London. I lived in P. Five hours difference, and a foreign language between us, yet we came along just fine. Surprising as it sounds, seventeen years later we still do. I cannot remember who took the plunge and initiated the next step forward, but at some point, we embarked on a romantic relationship. Nobody realized though how inconsistent it would be with being just friends. We decoupled a year later not able to maintain a challenging cross-border relationship, but not ready to abide by the thought of the end of years-long connection.
Having a great deal of experience of being a long-lasting long-distance friend, here is my word to share. You might find yourself struggling to stay awake for one another and lend an understanding ear to whatever problems are poured out. Your advice, however sound, might be unsolicited, and wherever the wedge is driven between the two of you, without face-to-face interaction, it is quite hard to make amends. On the contrary, it is mostly easy to remember all the significant dates, as well as to share the most private thoughts once your friend is on the other side of the phone, not the other side of the table. Little signs of affection like postcards and occasional gifts will also do the trick.
To sum it up, any real world relationship is a seemingly uncomplicated breeze to embrace in comparison with a long-distance union. However, despite its complexity, being miles and hours apart from your friend is exactly what helps to let bygones be bygones; therefore, survive through thick and thin and become true friends.
Yours faithfully,
E. K.
Photo credit: Nadine Shaabana (Unsplash)
STORY #16 which was born from the exercise in the Creative Writing Club
The original prompt: finish the sentence using a simile "His promises were like..."
He always was a funny, kind of naturally gifted, guy whenever it came to storytelling, able to pull off a story in a way that drew the attention of every single person in a room. As natural as his verbal talent was, on the paper he turned out to be a godsend. The writing was what he was born for. At some point, books were pumping out like bags tossed on the belt conveyor, which was a funny twist of fate since that was exactly how they met. Mistakenly, she picked up his bag only to discover later that the bag itself was the only thing that was similar to her own luggage. She called it divine intervention. He called it kismet.
He seemed to be pretty content at home, only rarely mentioning how LA lights beckoned him. They always had. So it hadn’t come as a surprise when one day they headed to where the lights shone brighter as ever. He said it was to pursue his American dream. She said it was to chase the dollar and fame. Producers called him a real deal. Publishing houses labeled him a writer with a capital W. In a matter of months, he became everyone’s most wanted. Fiction turned into scripts, scripts turned into endless nights on screen sets, take after take, beds in nameless trailers, “shots” heard at any time of day and night. She had yet to realize that LA lights would never shine quite as bright as in the movies*.
He promised they could be happy there. All she ever wanted was to be happy. All she ever got was misery. He promised it’d be a step forward. He promised it’d be a chance to look into new perspectives and open themselves up to new opportunities. He kissed her. And the kiss was a promise too. His promises always looked quite solid. Painfully so. Just until they weren’t. Like fall leaves with their reddish thin veins running across the yellow canvas, they laid on the carpet of grass, innocent and beautiful, only to turn later into the dust crunching under his merciless feet. He didn’t even bother as much as to look down.
Nothing panned out as he promised.
She kept waiting. Waiting to grow accustomed to that new bohemian lifestyle, waiting for him to deliver his promises. Just waiting. They were two worlds in collision but when the smoke cleared, he wasn’t there. What was there left for her…? Only his empty promises.
*“LA lights never shine quite as bright as in the movies” is a quote from the song “Catalyst” by Anna Nalick
Photo credit: Alex Motoc (Unsplash)