DARCI COLE'S WRITING CONTEST

I found another writing contest from a fellow blogging friend, Darci Cole!

The prize for this one is an edit of your ENTIRE manuscript!   I want! I want!

Ok, so the rules from Darci's blog are as follows:  

RULES: 
-I give you a topic and a photo, you write something incorporating both. 
-Keep the word count under 500, k? 
-Genre is your choice - poetry included. 
-Post your entry on your blog, then link to it here in the comments below. 
-Deadline for entry is Friday April 20th at midnight (Arizona time - we're the same as Pacific Daylight). 
-Winner will be chosen based on level of creativity and how well written it is. 
-Winner will be announced Monday April 23rd. 
-THE PRIZE: a full Freelance Edit of your ENTIRE manuscript by me! 
(Note: go to my Edit page for details about what I cover, if you're curious.) 

 Ready for it? 

Topic: Relationships in general, or a specific relationship (i.e. boy/girl, family, friends, etc.) 

Here's the photo:

And now, for your reading enjoyment (I hope), my entry about the aftermath of a relationship fallout, and the stupidity that can sometimes accompany that aftermath.  Heehee. 


FATE'S FOOL
Word Count:494 

In hindsight, Adam could see where he’d gone wrong. 

His intentions had been good, of that he was sure.  But Fate, she is quite the comedian.

It had been three weeks since Adam had laid eyes on Rochelle.  She’d broken up with him after some very poor decision making on his part.  She’d since stopped returning his calls, was ignoring his texts. She refused to see him.  Tips of vibrant flower petals mocked him from the trash can in the corner of his office – their final resting place after being returned to him, ignored. 

Sure, he’d made a few mistakes, but she’d come around. 

Being the brilliant sonnet ninja that he was, he’d created a song for her.  It wasn’t just any song, and wasn’t even the first in his arsenal of Rochelle dedications, but it was by far the best. 

Preparing for his debut, he adjusted the strings of his cello.  He sang a few scales, warming up his vocal chords; jumped in the shower, sang a few more.  He was ready.  Standing in front of his mirror, the idea hit him like a ton of bricks.  The perfect way to perform his piece with no distractions was staring right back at him.  It would just be Rochelle, Adam, and his instrument.  Plain and simple.  He nodded to himself, proud of what a genius idea it was, pleased with himself beyond natural confidence. 

He drove to her vacation home, sure she was still there, and parked a short distance away so as not to be seen until the ideal moment.  He crept down to the dock and unfolded his chair, pulled his beautiful instrument out of the safe confines of its case, took a deep breath … and waited. 

When Rochelle walked outside, her face clearly showing her surprise, he was elated.  His heart raced at the sight of her.  It had been far too long since she’d said goodbye. 

Or, well, her parting words hadn’t been quite as polite as that, but it didn’t matter anymore. 

A small gasp alerted Adam to Rochelle’s parents’ approach.  They stopped dead in their tracks a short distance from the dock; just a few short feet away from Adam and his ... instrument.  

He stood there for a few seconds too long, absorbing the shock of the situation.  It was the first time he realized there may have been an unforeseen glitch in his plan. 

He should have reconsidered the naked part of his performance. 

When he hit the water, he realized one more little glitch in what was turning out to be a terrible cosmic joke:  he should have let go of his cello before jumping.   Now they both floated in the cold water, ruined.  The wood of the cello ruined on impact, and Adam’s foolish pride ruined the longer they stared. 

When Rochelle came closer, a vindictive smile on her face, he thought it just couldn’t get much worse. 

Then she snapped the picture.