a creative writing blog

in the public eye

As of right now I am sitting in Kaldi’s coffee shop. I always find it weird, writing in public, but I’m gonna give it a try.

Today’s prompt: Sunset

Grandpa loved sunsets, was a sunset seeker. As a boy, he climbed onto the roof of his parent’s one-story suburban house almost every night to witness that great, fiery orb sinking below the horizon line; then later, as he got older, he traveled the nation–just to see sunsets. He saw them in Florida, in California, saw them from a perch on the Grand Canyon, from a boat that toured around Ellis Island. Each one spectacular, each one unique, each one evoking a sense of awe from deep within. All he ever took with him as he gallivanted around the United States was a small suitcase, brown and unremarkable. Inside there were three white linen shirts, a spare pair of blue jeans, three changes of drawers, six rolled-up balls of socks, a blue toothbrush, a small tube of toothpaste, a thin black comb, nail clippers, and a photo of his mama.

When he was 24, he met Eileen. And Eileen must have thought he was batty, but she liked his wide smile, his large hands, his charming talk, and his tendency to throw caution to the wind. So from then on it was not just Grandpa and his battered Ford truck, it was Grandpa, his battered Ford truck, and Eileen.

Eileen fancied the sunsets, but she fancied Grandpa more, and when they were 26 they got married. Eileen took Grandpa by surprise at a sunset on Myrtle Beach, and got down on one knee in her purple dress in the sand, and proposed to Grandpa just before the sun went down behind the waves. It didn’t even take Grandpa one heartbeat to say yes, scoop Eileen up out of the sand, and twirl her around in the water, laughing. Although, maybe he was a little embarrassed that he had been proposed to instead of doing the proposing, but he didn’t tell Eileen that.


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