Luminous

I watched a show today, and the title of the episode was luminous. One of the characters is a fiction writer, taking a writing class with a well-known author. Somewhere along the way, I decided to write something with the title luminous. At first I saw a young woman, smiling. Then I placed her in a field of flowers. Then I made her a little girl. Then I made her older again, and got rid of the flowers. I put her in a real place. What resulted didn't end up being about anything luminous, or about really anything at all. But I did write it, and as bad as it came out, I will share it with all of you. Feel free to critique your little hearts out...I know its bad.

Ralph stood at the top of the Spanish steps, looking down at all of the people milling about the Roman square in front of him. He had come to Rome out of boredom, nothing else. He had been to the Spanish steps a thousand times before; he had been nearly everywhere about a thousand times before. It was exactly the same as he remembered it. It was the same as the first time he had come, and the last time he had come, and all of the times in between that. Just a moment before he turned to leave, he heard breathless laughter. Two girls had just run up the steps; one was medium height with shoulder length dark hair, very thin, and she laughed quietly, shyly, nervously. The other was just a bit shorter, with reddish brown curls and a curvy figure. Her laugh was quiet, also, and respectful, but clear. The rest of the curious tourists who had turned to look at them had turned away; there was nothing special here. It was just two more American girls running up the steps and laughing.

The littler one grabbed the taller one’s hands and pulled her over to the edge. “Look at it, Meredith. Its so beautiful.” She put her elbows on the railing and leaned over for a better look at the square below. Meredith turned away from the scene and took a few steps away from the railing. “Hey, Leah! Look at this,” she called. Leah turned at what Meredith was pointing at, smiled her acknowledgement, and turned back around. As Ralph watched the little scene between the girls play out, he began to take more notice of Leah. Just at that moment, she almost inaudibly sighed a sigh of contentment, of utter peace. Ralph looked at her cheeks, glowing with the cold night air, at her long eyelashes that moved upwards as she lowered her chin to look at the gleaming top of St. Peters in the distance. Just as Ralph was leaning in to say something to her, Meredith grabbed her arm and demanded her to “take a picture of me!” Leah happily obliged, and then Leah hopped up on the railing with St. Peters dome behind her so that Meredith could take her picture. After a blinding flash of light, Leah slid off the railing and turned around for one last glimpse before Meredith grabbed her and they walked off, holding hands.

Ralph watched them go, and then silently cursed Meredith for being there with Leah, or for being so vulgar as to not let Leah stay longer to enjoy the view. He turned away from the view, reassuming his gloomy countenance and shuffled down the steps, back to his hotel. Despite his gruff demeanor, he was actually in a little bit better of a mood. “At least it was different this time,” he said to his best friend over the telephone that night.