Writing About Love

Last year I entered a writing contest associated with the release of Belle and Sebastian's album, Write About Love. The directions were to write about love (surprise!) in 300 words or less. I decided to re-purpose a post that has appeared on this blog (http://toocoolbyhalf.blogspot.com/2007/12/england-and-italy.html).

I was forced to cut and cut and cut away almost everything, but it was interesting to me to see what I was willing to cut and what I refused to let go. The cheesy last line was just an effort to tie it into the love theme. I don't think I was in love with this person, but maybe that's the point? Anyway...

I won this LP for being one of the "honorable mentions" (http://www.matadorrecords.com/matablog/2011/01/11/write-about-love-contest-winners-part-one-honorable-mentions/):

It's signed by the band and was mailed from the UK. Kind of fun.

This is the piece:

On a Friday I took the train to school. My first class started at 9:40, but I got on the 8:03 train so I could get some reading in. There was a pretty girl near the door, but I was too shy to sit next to her. 

After a few stops, the conductor announced over the intercom that the police wouldn't let us go any further north. There had been a bomb threat. 

We stopped at the next stop, 33^rd South, and we all had to get out. The conductor told us that a bus would take us to another stop where we could take another train. 

I noticed the pretty girl again. Second chance! I convinced myself to sit next to her and asked her where she was going. And then we talked—about everything, somehow, in fifteen minutes.When the bus dropped us off at the “safe” stop, we got on the train together and kept talking.It was perfect. Finally, I asked her for her name and she said it was Venice. 

Like the city? 

Like the city. And then I had to transfer to another line. I stepped off the train and turned around as the doors slid shut. I stood there, on the crowded stop, looking at her looking at me, thinking to myself (suddenly alarmed!), Why didn't I get her number? The look on her face said, Why didn't you get my number? 

I followed her car with my eyes until the train was gone. 

Monday I took the train to work. I got on at 8:03 and at every stop changed to a different car. Then I stopped and waited for the next train, just in case. But she wasn't on that one either. 

Love is an act of faith.