So i had an hour and a bit to kill between classes so I wrote a story based off of this picture. It’s not very good.
He was very young when she moved in next door. The old neighbour had been strange and used to stare harshly at him through her window whenever he peeped his head over the sill to stare at the rooftop just inches below. But when she moved in, one night he peeped over and saw the tip of her head and two bright little eyes staring back. He ducked away shyly and didn’t return to look back out until he was sure that she would be asleep. When he was bigger, he swore to himself, he’d sit out on that rooftop and stare at the stars, safe and away from the rest of the world. His own private place. As long as that girl wasn’t peeping out her window. But maybe if she was nice, he’d invite her to climb out onto hers and maybe if she wanted to they could be friends.
A few nights later, he was back at the window sill, on the tip of his toes staring outside when he noticed a shadow moving across from him. It was her! She was out on the roof, pressed up close to the house laying flat on her back and reaching up to the stars. His small blue eyes shot wide open and he took a very big breath in. She’d stolen his idea! She had only just moved in and already she was out on his special place. He had to go out now, no time to wait until he was bigger, so that she never thought the space was hers.
He pulled his chair to the window and climbed up onto it before carefully wiggling out. She turned her head and gasped, thinking someone big had caught her and she was going to get in trouble, but relaxed when she saw it was him. “Hello,” she whispered. “My name is Kiara.”
He sat down on the roof, holding onto the window sill, a little bit afraid that if he didn’t he might fall. “hello,” he responded, “My name is Robert.”
“I think I will call you Robby, it suits you more.”
Years had passed, and every night they would climb out onto their almost touching rooftops, bolder every time and talk quietly and stare at the stars. He found out that she had moved here after her mum went away, she didn’t know where, but she suspected now that she was older that her mother had died. Her dad didn’t like to talk about it, so she never really asked. He told her about his parents and how he’d lived here his whole life, and always wanted to be out on the rooftop, but knew his mean neighbour would have dobbed on him (he didn’t want to tell her, he had always been a little bit scared). They went to the same school, but were in different grades, he was a year older than her and even though every night they sat out and spoke on the rooftop, they never spoke when they were down on the ground. Sometimes he didn’t like that, but sometimes he did. It made her his secret, a part of his special rooftop that no one else touched. Well, no one but her. Sometimes they played games out on the rooftop, like ‘Go fish,’ or checkers, and one of them would cross over the small gap and sit on the other ones roof. Other times they just looked at the sky and talked about aliens and what stars were. He knew they were suns far away, but she thought they were magic. He never told her that idea was silly, because in a way he supposed they were magic.
More years passed and they had grown into teenagers and most of the time they could still come outside at night and sit together. They talked about their days and friends and lives. And sometimes one of them would bring up cookies, or scones or something else to eat. She still believed that the stars were magic. One day he asked her why after eight years they still didn’t talk when they weren’t on the roof. She smiled and shook her head, and spoke of other things. He asked her if she told her friends about him, about their conversations on the roof all these years. And once more she smiled and shook her head, and spoke of other things. He hadn’t told anyone, he confided. Had kept her a secret even from his other close friends. She was his closest, she knew all of his secrets but whenever he asked she said she only had one, and it wasn’t time for him to know it yet. It had been a long time since she first said that and whenever he asked she answered the same. He didn’t want to make her upset so he didn’t get mad.
One night he came home from school and noticed a ‘for sale’ sign on his neighbours house. He was horrified and waited desperately for night to come to climb out onto the roof and beg her not to leave. When she came out that night, and he started to plead she just smiled, shook her head and spoke of other things. A few weeks later, the house had been sold and he found out from his parents her family were leaving the next day. He waited on the roof, sad and fearful, because he didn’t want these nights to end. They had grown up together. Spent every night for so long together, what would he do after she was gone?
They played card games and stared at the stars, laying side by side but as usual never quite touching and stayed out on the roof until just before dawn. She smiled sadly and said she needed to go soon and he drew in a deep breath.
“You never told me your secret, you know,” he whispered. She rolled over to face him, and smiled sadly.
“You’ve never been ready to hear it,” she breathed.
“This is the last chance, I’m ready enough.” She took a deep breath out and he took a deep breath in, bracing himself for whatever she thought was so difficult he still couldn’t hear it. She reached toward him, as if to caress his cheek but drew her hand away.
“I’m not real.” She whispered. He closed his eyes as he laughed trying to suppress it so that nobody heard him. A few minutes later he had calmed down and opened his eyes only to find that she had gone. He jumped up and went over to her window searching for her, only to find the room was bare. Her soft purple walls with posters that he was so used to seeing had vanished, there was no bed or bookcase or anything at all. Impossible, he thought. He climbed back through the window and ran downstairs to his neighbours and banged on the door. When the man opened it bleary eyed and confused Robby demanded to be let in to speak to his daughter.
His neighbour looked at him confused. Robby insisted again, more forceful this time.
“Robby,” said the man, “I’ve never had children.” He placed his hand on Robby’s shoulder and pushed him outside, gently shutting the door. Robby stared up at the rooftops where they spent so much time.
She was right. He wasn’t ready to know.
I BET THAT IF TWO KIDS LIVED IN THOSE TWO HOUSES THAT THEY WOULD COME OUT ON THEIR ALMOST CONJOINING ROOFS OUTSIDE THEIR BEDROOM WINDOWS AND TALK AND BE BEST FRIENDS AND FALL IN LOVE.
I will not write fluff to that. I won’t. No.
LUCY I FOUND IT
i want to read this book someone please write it
Tom (tries to) talk about how he chooses scripts
what i really want to know is what the person in the audience was doing to make him a) notice they were getting visibly aroused and/or excited by his comments and b) worried enough about those levels of arousal/excitement that he felt the need to calm them
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