Self-Conclusion

So, I’ve been playing around with writing prompts trying break up this never ending bought with writers block. I got a few paragraphs in before the wind in my sails died. I like where my story is heading, just got to find a way to get there. Stay tuned for part 2.

PROMPT: Write about a character who can’t laugh.

                She stands there, toes at the edge. Peering over the cliff. She ponders what the fall will feel like. “Will it make me feel weightless?” She smiles at the thought, for it seems like she has been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders for far too long.

                Standing there, eyes closed, arms spread wide open, she begins to lean forward when she hears an unfamiliar voice. “Excuse me, Miss.” His voice was warm, rugged, and frantic.

                Again, he repeated himself a bit more emphatically, “Excuse me, Miss!”

                With her eyes still closed, she lowered her arms and turned to face the stranger. She opened her eyes to find a man with the most alluringly troubled expression on his face. No one has shown that much concern for her in ages. He was standing within arms length, as if he were prepared to leap after her.

                She stood silent.

                They gazed at each other in the peacefulness of the twilight. They said nothing, but you could hear everything… The sound of the wind through the leaves. The crunch of debris on the forest floor as the birds and squirrels search for their dinner. These sounds, in all their beauty, would’ve made a great soundtrack for her fall.

                “Miss, it isn’t worth it. It is never worth it,” his virile voice broke their silence like shattering glass, but she found his voice oddly soothing.

                “You don’t know my pain. I can’t explain how bad it hurts. You couldn’t even begin to understand my living hell,” her voice shaking as she keeps the edge of the cliff in sight.

                “We can change that. Have coffee with me,” he said, offering his hand for her to take.

                “How can you offer me something so simple as a cup of coffee and expect that to change the unending misery?”

                “Right before you got here, I was going to jump too,” with a gleam of hope in his eye he extends his hand to her.