First Love: Rebecca, Ch. 5

  • Not for me the languor and the subtlety I had read about in books. The challenge and the chase. The sword-play, the swift glance, the stimulating smile. The art of provocation was unknown to me, and I would sit with his map upon my lap, the wind blowing my dull, lanky hair, happy in his silence, yet eager for his words.

And that, dear blog readers, is how you write about first love in first person. Slow clap!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Reminds Self of Marguerite Duras

Still Chapter 4, Rebecca:

As he spoke, the car became one of many once again, dusk had fallen without my noticing it, and we were in the midst of light and sound in the streets of Monte Carlo.

Oh how beautiful the tone of that passage is.

Stay tuned.

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