Day 29

While this is a writing exercise, it is more about setting up a routine to write.

First, write for 25 minutes. That might, if the inspiration is flowing, take anything for a minute from inception to three weeks.

Dallying is called procrastination. Some might call it writer’s block. I’ll let you know what I write.

…

A change is as good as a holiday.

I said that once, in jest, but Joey had taken it to heart.

Joey was like that, ever since we were little, from that first day at elementary school, and then off and on until we graduated college.

Well, I did.  Joey had been too preoccupied with the latest love of his life, Agnetha from Sweden.  Apparently, she didn’t have a last name, or he just didn’t ask.

That was probably the reason why when she returned to Sweden and didn’t come back, Joey had no means of finding her.

He tried.

And now he was heartbroken

I looked at my phone and re-read the message that Joey had sent me.  It had been nearly three months, partly on that odyssey to Sweden, partly hiding at his parents’ retreat at Martha’s Vineyard wallowing in self-pity, and then just disappearing.

“I’m back, bigger and better than ever.  See you at the usual haunt, 3:00 pm.”

Typical Joey.

You could never keep a guy like him down.  After another round of psychoanalysis, his mother indulged his every whim, and there he was Joey 2.0.

This would be Joey 13.5.  Maybe.

Last time, he had gone surfer Dan, the rippling muscles and six pack, board shorts and muscle tee, and to top it off, the bleach blonde hair.

With that came the beach buggy and the most expensive surf board money could buy.  And after lessons from a would famous surfer, he still couldn’t stay on the board long enough to get to the other side of the wave.

What was it going to be this time?

I was supposed to have afternoon tea with Penelope, the girl I had decided to spend the rest of my life with.  I just had to tell her that.

I’d recognised the signs that she wanted more, but I had been holding back, waiting for a sign that my job was going to move upwards, with that a commensurate raise in salary that would fund the move in together.

We had been looking at apartments, but on what I was making, it wasn’t enough.  With the call from Wickham in HR this morning and the fact I was on the shortlist, I made it ideal to tell her.

I told her Joey had texted, and knowing how she felt about him, we could postpone until later, but she said she was only available then and didn’t mind.

That in itself should have set off alarm bells.

Perhaps I was too preoccupied with Joey 13.5.

I was running late, which was highly unusual, but Wickham called again, for no apparent reason, taking an inordinate amount of time to say nothing.

When I arrived, I saw Joey and Penelope talking animatedly, and if my eyes were not mistaken, flirting with him.

It was not hard to see why.

Joey had finally decided to become the executive type his father had always wanted, the heir apparent finally growing up.

Penelope had always joked about looking for that elusive, rich, dark, handsome billionaire type that always seemed to be taken.

There he was.

When she saw me, she suddenly became more aloof, which, to me, was the last warning sign that the good ship Lollypop had run aground.

What’s that saying?  He who hesitates is lost?

I put on my best happy to see you have and came up smiling and astonished in the same expression.

“Well, look who has finally joined the human race.”

I sat down next to Penelope but not next to Penelope.  She smiled in my direction, but I think she knew that I had seen their display.

There was no kissing or touching hands.

I could feel the icy wall building between us.

“Had to, Ethan. Had to.  Agnetha was the last straw that broke my mother’s tolerance level.  It was time to shape up or ship out.”

An inheritance of 20 billion dollars could do that to a young man.  I was lucky to put together 20 thousand dollars at best, and Penelope had expensive tastes.

“Can you believe it.  Joey is having a soiree at the Martha’s Vineyard place, and we’re invited.  It’ll be such fun.”

I saw the look between them.

I sighed.  That last look at the shoreline so near and yet so far, just before I went under.

Was it possible that I could just understand what Joey had felt when Agnetha had decided to go home and not leave a calling card?

“It will be, but I won’t be able to make it.”  I looked at her.  “But don’t cancel going because of me.  I’m sure you’ll be fine on your own.”

I stood.

“Hey, Ethan.  What’s going on.”

I looked at him.  “I’m sure you are more aware of what’s going on, Joey, than I am.”

There was a look of concern on Penelope’s face.  “Are you alright?”

I turned to her.  “Perfectly.  We’ll talk later, but I have to get back to work.  Wickham scheduled a meeting just before I stepped out, the reason I’m late.  You two carry on without me.  I wouldn’t make very good company at the moment.”

With a wan smile and a nod to Joey, I turned and left. I doubted I would see or hear from either of them again.

…

Then take a five-minute break.

Second, repeat the process up to 3 times.

At the end of each increase the rest time to 15 or more minutes.

Feel happy about what’s been written.

…

Well, here’s the rub, lately I’ve been writing and it hasn’t impressed me, and for the last few days, I’ve been rewriting, and reinventing.

I am my own harshest critic.

©  Charles Heath  2025