Anne and the Pink Lady — a story in 15 minutes

September 30, 2010

So, this is my 15-minute creative venture! I am challenging myself to write a beginning, middle and end … in 15 minutes. And no editing. This could be tricky!!!


Perhaps it was the alarm on the coffee perk starting the morning brew. Or maybe the toilet swooshing. Or it could’ve been the internal clock that had kicked in. Regardless, Anne kept waking up earlier than she wanted. After a hot shower, toothbrush and lipgloss, she looked in the fingerprinted mirror. I’m sure I can do better, but I just don’t care right now!

She grabbed her Jodi Picoult latest, filled her mug and was out the door to catch her train.

Standing on the platform that morning was a gentleman that most assuredly had been there all night. Poor guy. I should bring him a bagel tomorrow. At the other end of the platform was a mother with a child on either arm. And she was singing to herself and the children looked mildly amused. But loved. What a woman! That’s my goal. The scent preceded him, and before she stepped foot through the door, Anne looked behind her to see what divine cologne was matched with divine…form? Swell. Not bad.

The gentleman smiled casually and grabbed the handrail next to hers while asking the elderly lady sitting if she was reading the morning paper. Anne wasn’t the kind that cared about being obvious. It was pretty much her middle name. She watched this man as he struck up conversation with the elderly woman, very intentionally trying to make her feel special. It’s working, and not just on her! Anne hummed her favourite Amazing Grace melody softly while reading the advertisements strewn across the train car. Sip of coffee. Ding. I’m here.

Every sardine squeezed out of the car and fled in different directions, like ants at a picnic. Anne never rushed. She may not have been huge on personal detail, but the details of life and those around her, she was very conscientious about. Her philosophy was that if she was only given 24 hours a day, she was going to suck the very marrow out of it.

The handsome man went his way. Anne went hers. The mother of two off another, likely to a local school. What’s their story? Were they rich or poor? Did they have a grandma close-by? Do they enjoy chocolate and coffee as much as I do? Likely not!

In true Anne-style, she was fashionably (not so much) late and arrived to her morning staff meeting just under the hour. Two hours later she wondered why it was she who always sat silently as others talked. I have so much to say. And notice so much. Why don’t I speak up more?

Anne’s day passed rather uneventfully and as she looked in the washroom mirror on her way out. I really have to do something about those under-eye bags!

Much to Anne’s surprise the same elderly lady who had been chatting with the handsome man that morning was there ready to board the 5 o’clock train. Where she was going, Anne didn’t know. But as her nature who generally lead her, she was curious. Anne sat next to her. Smiled. Once the train car started moving, Anne undid the top few buttons of her wool coat and began, again, to look at the advertisements. Maybe there’s one I missed this morning.

“Miss, can I ask you something?” the elderly lady surprised Anne by striking up conversation.

”Absolutely!” Anne adjusted and turned to the white haired, rose-cheeked woman.

“I haven’t gone on a date in years. I mean, years. And I am meeting a man tonight that has been a best friend for, well. Years. Does this pink blouse I have on suit me? I’m so nervous.” She shook her head and looked in her clasped hands.

Anne looked at the woman and smiled softly. “Ma’am. I noticed you this morning. And surely this man noticed you a LONG time ago. And this blouse you have on, will leave a lasting impression. You are lovely.”

The elderly woman sighed and grabbed Anne’s hand.

“You just made my day. Thank you.”

Anne choked back a tear and turned in her seat. Still holding the pink lady’s hand.

I may not talk a lot. But I do have something to say. I do notice people. And in the right moment, that can be used. Anne, you are just you for a reason.


OKAY! There it is. 15 minutes. Straight writing. I turned the editor off. Phewf. Publish as is.

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