And then yet there were attempts to write in December. After finishing the draft of the first short story, I tried to get back to writing more regularly. I didn't do very well.
Here's what happened. These texts are rewritten from notebooks, rewritten... Hm... Maybe it should be better to say "reworked", updated, cleaned and somewhat changed. Then they were already corrected by my editor Agnė. True, these texts have not changed too much from the ones I wrote back then. So the style (and lack thereof) is preserved.
December 1, 2014. A letter to myself.
Maybe she is a completely different person than I expected. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she didn't like me as much as she or her image, her dream in my head liked me.
I can write a letter. I can write a lot of them. But what's the point?
She received my letters. She read them. She knows I like her. And she believes that the power is in her hands.
It is her choice not to answer me. Her.
December 3, 2014. Can you stop?
could you stop
Stop what?
Stop fumbling and banging your ring on the table.
I realized I had been doing this for a while. The ring that was normally on my finger was now on the table. And when listening to music with headphones in my ears, I didn't even feel like I was doing it.
((Explanation: This happened in the library. Another library visitor told me this, first in Czech, then in English.))
December 3, 2014. A story that begins with the sentence…
It all started exactly at midnight. And it ended with him.
- Zero! - the mayor, already red from the champagne, shouted the last number of the tenth and, together with everyone else, looked at the sky with a smile.
Somewhere far on the horizon, explosions were heard and then the sky began to slowly change colors. But here, where the sky seems so wonderful, nothing happened here.
- Erm... - just a few moments later, someone who obviously had less patience than I did, crouched next to me.
Feeling a silly smile on my face, I suppressed it and lowered my eyes to look around. The locals standing around looked at each other just as confused and muttered something incomprehensible to my ear in their own language.
- Otum beleh to je fevjerki? - asked a woman with a face as wrinkled as a walnut, turning to me, I don't know what.
Confused, I just shook my head and shrugged my shoulders and, trying to avoid her further questions, glanced at the stage. The mayor looked no less confused than the people gathered in the square, and after following my gaze, the woman did not ask any more questions.
((Explanation: This was a task in the Nanowrim Lithuanian Facebook group. To write a story from one sentence. Only a few members of the group tried it then, besides me.))
December 13, 2014. New Year with questions about love.
She took the cup of cocoa in her hands again and after kissing the rest of it, she looked seriously at Daniel. He tilted his head back on the sofa slightly, questioningly, feeling how a few pressed hairs curled up.
"I was thinking..." the girl began quietly.
Daniel raised his eyebrows just a millimeter and allowed the girl to continue.
- And what kind of girls do you like? she finished the question.
Danielius, puzzled for a moment, looked somewhere above and to the right at the dimly lit ceiling of the girl's house.
- Well...
The girl seemed to purse her lips sadly, but it's possible that she was just impatiently biting the inside of her lower lip.
- I already told you - Danielius smiled and squinted and looked into the girl's eyes. She didn't look away. Then, raising his eyebrows again, he continued:
"Do you really want me to repeat myself?"
The girl silently bowed and, glancing at the contents of the cup, placed it on the table. Behind her, the curtains of the room lit up for a moment with a brighter white light, probably from another almost New Year's fireworks.
So why did the writing fail this month?
To this day I don't know why. I can guess: I didn't have the desire, I wasn't interested enough in other people's work, so I didn't come up with anything, I was busy with other things. Although those jobs didn't exist, that's probably a poor excuse.
What I would say to my past self is probably that if you once tried to write for a month and you only wrote for three days… That doesn't mean you can't try to write for a whole year.
Hey, hey. In other words, get a grip, Daniel of the past. Maybe better.
not very well written
Daniel