At the end of August, I reviewed Joe Bunting's new book "Let's Write A Short Story." As part of my review, I declared I was going to write a short story by the end of September. Well, that never happened. Fast forward to October, Writer's Unite month, and I said I was going to focus a bit more on my fiction project. And also work on a short story.
Today I'm giving you a peek into a short story I started working on last week. I'm hesitant to share this with you as it's not much. But it's a start.
Here's the interesting thing about this story - it started with an image of a cowboy sitting under a tree. In my mind, I saw this cowboy going to a county fair later in the day with his sweetheart. At the end of the evening, he was going to propose to her. When I started typing, the cowboy turned into Jake, and his story does not end with a proposal. I have no idea how his story is going to end as he is still telling me his story.
With that in mind, I hope you enjoy the beginning of Jake's story. Feel free to leave feedback.
He reclines under his favorite twin oak tree on the sprawling family ranch, hat pulled down over his eyes, hands folded over his chest, ankles crossed. His jeans dusty and boots muddied, Jake has been hard at work since dawn, like every other day since he turned eighteen. Instead of heading to college as planned, Jake stayed on the family ranch hoping to alleviate some stress.
For the past two years, Jake has risen early to feed chickens and gather eggs, sweep out horse stalls, and tend the garden. He spends his afternoons in the office, managing the books, keeping tabs on funds coming in and going out. Jobs his father used to do. Before.
A breeze stirred the leaves and threatened to blow Jake’s hat from its resting place. With a groan, he removed his sweat-rimmed hat from his face and sat up. He glanced at his watch, . Jake stood, relishing the last few moments of peace before heading back towards the house. His mother would have dinner ready soon. There was just enough time for him to shower and change.
Dinner with his mother and father was a nightly routine, one they had kept since the day Jake and his sister were born. His parent’s motto was “families who eat together stay together.” Jake didn’t mind. He had never been one to rock the boat. Not like Shaylee.
Jake’s twin sister, Shaylee was the rebel, bucking the rules of the family from an early age. As a two year old, she would repeatedly tell their mother “no,” hands on her tiny hips, shaking her blonde curls. Her blue eyes held a hint of glee at seeing the frustration on their mothers face. Even then, she relished in causing her mother grief.
Shaylee was a daddy's girl.