Robin Talley - Pulp

As Janet’s pencil scratched across the paper, the tingling sensation crawled up to her chest. It was just like the night before, when she’d climbed onto that streetcar with Marie.

Janet lowered the notebook, gazing down at the pencil marks on the page. She’d just written the first sentences of her first novel. From here, the story could only grow.

A new set of lines began to take form in her mind. They were for later in the story, so Janet skipped her pencil down the page.

“There’s something I have to tell you, Elaine. Something I’ve longed to tell you.”

I was so breathless I could barely speak. “What is it, Paula?”

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you.”

I closed my eyes and tasted each word.

Elaine and Paula would fall in love. Janet could see it as clearly as she saw her own reflection in the mirror. The tenderness the two girls shared would be deep, true and undeniable. Until, tragically, society came between them, as it always must.

A title drifted into her mind, too. Alone No Longer . Janet wrote it across the top of the page.

She kept writing, the words coming to mind faster than she could scrawl them out. She jotted down notes for later, too. Scenes she would write soon, about love and loss and heartbreak.

Sometime later, her grandmother knocked on the door, but Janet claimed a headache and wrote on. She wrote all through the evening and the night that followed, until her eyes refused to stay open and the pencil fell from her limp fingers. Yet even as she finally felt herself passing into sleep, that tingling sensation never went away.

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