This is my weekly entry for the Six Sentence Story writing prompt hosted by Denise. I also wrote another entry this week that's a little different from this one.
You can read all the contributions from the other participating authors at the link-up.
Returning home from the Six Sentence Café & Bistro
If there was one thing that our Nervous Poet loved as much as wine and poetry, it was coffee and cake, and just as she was licking her chocolate-stained spoon, her phone lit up with a notification: "I think that's enough of lollygagging for now; you have work to do."
Aurelia stared at the very reminder she had set up herself in her time-management app to combat her disruptive procrastination habits—meaning scrolling on social media instead of writing—and let out an audible sigh before telling Denise, "I guess it's time for me to leave for now."
But as she got up, she felt a pinch in her… innermost garments… and went to the bathroom to discover that it was indeed the underwire, and as she yanked it out, she promised herself she'd never wear a bra again, then tossed it into the bin and walked away as if nothing had happened.
The entrance to her home was at the back of the building and led to a stairwell that seemed to multiply in height with every step before reaching the tiny rental beneath the eaves, just big enough for Aurelia's extravagant needs—which essentially amounted to the existence of a bath, a fridge, a bed, and a desk she called her writing area.
"I really should stop writing everything on Post-it notes," Aurelia told herself, still huffing from the climb, as she threw her keys onto the desk already seemingly covered in colorful notes filled with creative ideas, looked around her tiny cave, eyed the laptop, and decided that she needed a good nap first.
So she rolled herself into her blanket like a burrito, indulged in some scrollage of the phonage* and then returned to the café, this time in her dreams.
* the author ran out of usable vocabulary
There's more of my work:
If you like short stories I have them scooped up into one category (including the six-sentence stories).
The Nervous Poet at the SSC&B can be followed here.
There is also poetry.
More personal entries can be found at the Blog.
There's also the IT studies blog in Estonian and "Chaos in Spring" on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.
Wonderful ways to procrastinate and still write! I should set up a time management app as well. The rental beneath the eaves (except for the stairs) sounds like the perfect place to live.
Thank you for the comment. There was one I really wanted to rent in Viljandi some years ago that the owners actually decided not to rent to us because of the height of my bf… and I was so sad because it was just like described here. But well, he is tall so…
Procrastination and time management apps. Gee, that sure reminds me of someone I know (never did try an app, lol). Colorful post it notes with ideas waiting for her… I’m with Aurelia, sounds as if a nap (in spite of coffee earlier) surely was in order. Fun Six, Reelika. (underwires can be lethal, glad Aurelia wasn’t impaled 😆)
Thank you, and as someone who drinks a lot of coffee and sleeps like a baby even while drinking it at night, I just forgot it’s not normal. And those underwires … Gab.
This is wonderful, and I can relate to the post-its!
Am so glad you liked it. And me too… Is that a writer thing or what?
Your six-sentence flash fiction piece made me smile, Reelika! Nothing better than procrastinating with coffee and chocolate cake! I sympathise with Aurelia – I’ve had to yank our underwire in the past – never again! And don’t get me started on Post-it notes.
Haha, am so happy you liked it.
Oh, what a lovely episode!! Brill… ‘later’ as we will say. 😉
Thank you! And I hope your kitten heels are not pinching you anymore.
As Aurelia walked out of the SSC&B the Gatekeeper watched silently from his corner in the shadows while caressing Hūnga’s head.
Her stride much more confident than it was when she walked in.
Nervous was nothing but a nickname that lost part of its grip on her.
As she was fading out in the distance, and the Gatekeeper disappeared behind clouds with the arona of cigar smoke and Irish coffee, Nick whispered ” Fly, Lia… fly”.
Ooh. Who is Lia.. ooh. And it does seem that her Nervousness is fading.