Short Story Preview: Reconciliation – Gabriela Harding
The worst thing about a nice cup of coffee is that it gets too cold too soon. I watched the dark, fragrant surface, stirring it unnecessarily with a spoon.
Around me, laughter, chatter, the scraping of food off plates, cooks in white turbans making simple and vulgar dishes: chips, beans on toast, omelettes. The Arianne is not exactly a Michelin restaurant but it’s where I spent my afternoons, writing my never-ending twenty-act play that I like to start from scratch every winter as a New Year’s resolution.
The truth is I’m a bad writer. I’m the kind of writer who’s always looking for inspiration. There’s nowhere I haven’t been: the five continents far and wide. Boy, I spent a fortune on those travels. Not that I couldn’t afford it. I’m rich enough to live off my assets and I haven’t done anything to deserve it. Yes, I’m one of those people who everyone hates. Not someone you can look up to. Not one of those who worked hard for what they have. And this is why I’m fundamentally different from the masses. From those who, to be like me, would have to be born all over again.
Hate me already, don’t you? Why? You haven’t heard anything yet.
Writing. For some it’s easy. Some can write a whole poem on a toothpick. Some can even finish novels that started out as jokes. Some – and these are the worst – can actually write on the spot. This is what they do at those evening writing classes. Thing is, they look absolutely normal. Writers. I always thought, well, that they’d be the stand-out-in-a-crowd type of people.