Friday Night

This was an assignment from my creative writing class, in which we were asked to write a short (1-2 page) scene that focused on space. It was inspired by a real event.

Julia sits next to Brian, separated by six inches of couch, on his worn, corduroy love seat. The walls in the living room are chipped, with labels from liquor bottles sporadically stuck up. There is no carpeting so the floor is scuffed and cold. The coffee table is actually four milk crates artfully stacked and secured with binder clips. The television is nearly the size of the entire back wall, and in the dark nearly blindingly bright. The balcony door is open, letting the refreshingly-cool air outside waft in. The kitchen is joined to the living room, lights off and only a line of tile illuminated by the glow of the TV. On the back wall, “3:45” is lit up in red, the clock on the microwave.

Julia rests her head against a plush cushion, her hands resting on her lap, both feet flat on the floor. Brian spreads his arms across the top of the couch, leaning back and resting his right foot on his left thigh. The dripping kitchen sink, unseen under the cloak of darkness, makes a “plop” sound every few minutes. Brian yawns and cracks his back.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” he asks, looking at Julia with a warm expression.

“Hmmm, what do you wanna watch?”

“Lady’s choice.” He winks. She scrolls through options on the “on demand” menu. 

“I don’t know, it’s already like 4 in the morning. I didn’t tell anybody I was leaving.”

“Did you sneak away from your parents?” he teases.

“No, they don’t care, just…they might worry.” She shifts her weight on the couch, folding her arms limply across her belly. 

“I would hate to have to live with my parents,” he offers. He lights up the bowl on the table, then hands it to her. She takes a hit.

“It’s whatever.” She takes another hit. On TV, a fight breaks out among a gaggle of women in stilettos. He uncrosses his legs.

“So are you and your boyfriend on a break or something?” he asks innocently. She looks at him thoughtfully.

“Well, no.” A car drives under the balcony, the first to pass in an hour. 

“I thought he was in the hospital?”

“Yeah. But I can visit him.”

“Doesn’t that depress you though? Seeing him there with all those crazy people?”

“It does. But he’ll get better. It’s only been a few days.”

“Do you even know how long he’ll be there for?” The faucet drips. A pedestrian outside coughs.

“As long as it takes, I guess.” Julia sighs. He takes another hit, and offers her the bowl, which she rejects. The women on TV are eating in a restaurant. 

“I don’t know, dude, I just think the whole situation is fucked. What are you supposed to do in the meantime?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe you should go on a break. It’s not healthy.” 

She mulls that over silently for a beat. “No, I don’t think so.” The person on the sidewalk coughs again. Julia wonders how close they are to her car. 

“I think I’m gonna head out.”

“You sure you’re okay to drive? You can just crash on the couch.”

“I don’t do well on couches. I get headaches.”

“Well you can sleep in my bed.” Julia raises her eyebrow. Brian chuckles, and raises his hands, as if surrendering. “Scout’s honor.”

“Nah, thanks though. I’d rather be in my own bed.” She gets up and picks up her keys from the coffee table. “I’ll see you at work.” He walks her to the front door, down the narrow, twisted staircase. She stumbles over a loose step, and he puts his hands on her hips to balance her. She tenses. 

“Sorry. Keep meaning to fix that.” She pulls away from him. and walks out the door. 

The air outside is delightfully crisp. Julia inhales deeply, enjoying the sensation. 

Author's Note

Are there any parts that are too vague?

Reviews

[Madeline]

I really enjoyed reading this, the imagery and details are great. I always put an emphasis on figurative language in my own writing, so I'm sensitive to seeing it in other peoples'. The dialogue is smooth, it flows well off the tip of my tongue. Definitely an awareness of space in here, especially the little descriptions in between dialogue like, "The faucet drips...outside coughs." I can't really find anything that's wrong! The only thing I would say that caught my attention (and it might not even be a problem) is the use of '4' instead of "four o'clock" because it seemed abruptly casual in a more formal style of writing. But that's really only preference, great piece!