UPDATE: The author for the middle part of SteemShort #4 has been chosen (2018-Feb-27)
There were 4 valid summaries submitted to the jury.
And the jury chose the summary submitted by @tin-tin.
Here is the summary:
Before heading over to the home of her lover, Nicky decided to stop by a shop to pick up some wine for her and her love to enjoy. She knew this little place off of the main roads of the city, hidden between an antique store and an Italian bistro that served the excellent pasta. ‘He’ loved the red wine that was sold there, expensive but good stuff. Just thinking about how his thin lips would tilt up in a familiar smirk, her heart rate sped up, anticipation filling her with glee. Her steps sped up despite the limp that she sustained, ignoring the pain that stabbed her foot. She could almost sense his arms around her, surrounding her body with his warmth. Theirs was a forbidden, secret affair, hidden from the eyes of society. Not that they cared about what others thought, they just enjoyed the thrill of sneaking about, thumbing their noses at the judgmental snobs that littered their particular professions. Their fiery, illicit relationship had Nicky drowning in a sea of emotion, making her feel alive for the first time in so many years. He caught her, and she caught him, both acting as predator and prey.
SteemShort #4 - Post 2: Request for the Middle Part of the Story
SteemShort are short stories written collaboratively by three differents authors and illustrated by an artist/photographer.
The process to create a SteemShort is described in this post. The rules to select the authors and illustrators have been modified in this post.
The first part has been written by @catalincernat (Cătălin Cernat) and can be found below.
This is the request for the middle part of the fourth SteemShort.
Authors that want to write this middle part should send 0.001 STEEM or SBD to the @steemshorts account, with their proposed summary in a memo starting with the character '#'.
This summary must be between 100 to 200 words. Any proposed summary that is shorter than 100 words or longer than 200 words will not be considered.
It is important that the memo starts with the character '#': that makes this memo readable only by the author and the @steemshorts account.
Example of the beginning of a valid memo:
# It was a dark and stormy night ...
There can be only one proposed summary per author. The proposed summaries must be received in less than 3 days after thist post.
After sending their summary, authors should tell in a comment that they have sent their summary, so that they can received confirmation that their summary is valid.
After 3 days, all the valid summaries will be communicated anonymously to the 3 members of the SteemShorts jury, and they will decide which author will be chosen.
The chosen author will then be instructed how to submit their full constribution. The full contribution need to be between 500 and 1,500 words.
Once the full contribution of the chosen author will be received, another post with this full contribution will request proposals for the last part of the story.
All authors need to agree for a "Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike" (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/legalcode).
No title for the short story should be suggested. When the full text of the full story will be known, the three different authors will propose a title.
So, writers, send your summary proposals with 0.001 STEEM or SBD to the @steemshorts account.
Here is the first part of the story, written by @catalincernat:
Nicky was looking down at the dotted landscape from the busy crossroads in Brooklyn on 5th Avenue between 4th and 12th streets. Colorful umbrellas floating around aimlessly. Yellow cabs honking at pedestrians and street lights flickering under the heavy rain. A stray sun ray pierced the heavy clouds, making its providential approach onto a nearby park bench where a beggar was sleeping under some rags, making it look like he was chosen for something. Nicky always loved to let herself prey to these diurnal reveries, where she tried to make some sense out of this broken world by replacing it with funny anecdotes. The air in the room was smelly. Sweaty. She has been there for fifteen straight hours. Richard, her client, was sitting in a not so formal posture on a chair in the corner of the room.
Are we done..? I am starving.
Done? In six hours he have the first hearing. You are charged with murder, Richard. Murder!
Richard mumbled something in an anemic try to reply.
What's that? Nicky asked in a patronizing way.
We've been over this for the last God knows how many hours, Nicky! I love her... I loved her!
Richard started to sob.
- Oh, please...listen to me, you...Tell me again! From the beginning!
Nicky turned her back to Richard in a quick move, like in a tango dance, retreating to the windows again.
- You can start whenever you like, Richard, she continued while biting one of her nails that she broke when she slammed the desk in one of her previous cases where she defended a mother accused of mistreating her child.
Richard was wiping off his nose with the end of his cheap shirt. He started to tell the story. Their story. His and Anna's. He remembered again all those details that when put together in a coherent way would mean nothing else than love, in his opinion.
- A sick love, if you ask me. Nicky felt the need to intervene.
Richard was 38 years old. He was working 8 to 5 every day of the week. There was nothing special about him. He had that bland emotional structure, bovine-like. His body geometry was in the same common parameters. Nothing added, nothing taken. Deadpan.
- Tell me what happened after you showed Anna the matrimonial bedroom...tell me how the scene unfolded.
Anna was blue blood. A royal one. At least Richard saw her like this. She was an art student. He asked himself many times how and why Anna picked him, out of all the men in her circle of readers, philosophers, artists. Why him, a casual looking, emotionally bland, commuter? One day Anna asked why he liked her, and while he struggled to find a metaphorical reply, to show that he also has some artistic whims, the only words that came of his mouth was "Because you are beautiful!". Anna would laugh and pat him on the back, giving him an almost polite kiss on his cheek. Little does she knew that in that word, beautiful, Richard packed a lot of passion that hardly can be described by words.
- Richard, you boy, you killed Anna with a hammer. You smashed her head with...
Nicky stopped as her phone was ringing. She took a glimpse at the dialer number and quickly dispatched him. Then she pulled her skirt up and started scratching her inner thigh whispering something about a damn rash that won't go away.
- Where was I, she continued while scratching her leg. Oh, yes, you smashed her head with a hammer. The same hammer that you told me you used to repair that beautiful old oak cabinet that would have been la piece de resistance in your matrimonial room. Understand that this is our best chance to get you alive from this. You are insane. Maddened by Anna's rejection, you lost control of your mind and killed her.
Richard had an apartment. He and Anna spent time there, dreaming, laughing, killing time. They made plans. He was thinking of that place in terms of a nest. He always said to Anna that he will rebuild that place, and make a sparrow nest for her. To raise their kids and to live there as happy as humanly possible. He didn't translate Anna's innocent laughter as being, in fact, a rejection, a laugh at him, not with him. Not that Anna was that sinister. She was just young and beautiful. Nothing is intentional when you're young and in love. All seems to be permitted. So he started to buy new furniture, to restore an old oak cabinet, with beautiful insertions and models on it, given by his grandmother. He was coming back from his job and started working again. On his nest. Her nest. Anna's nest. The girl with the blue blood, the artist in his deadpan life. One day he asked her to cover her eyes and introduce her to their matrimonial bedroom. He also bought one of those huge beds with curtains on each side, looking like a King's bed.
- And what she said to you! Tell what she said after?! Why do you killed her?! Richard, please. I need to know. You are not a bad man.
We don't know what Anna said or could have said to Richard, but shortly after he went down to the local shop and asked for some bleach that could remove the blood stains. He calmly got back in the apartment and washed the sheets. Richard placed Anna's bloody head very softly leaning it on one of the flower pots in the balcony. Wild flowers. Caged, but wild. He placed her on a chair that he used to sit on when he smoked during the hot torrid summer nights. Then he felled asleep for an hour or two while watching a boring TV show. After he woke up he went on the balcony, sat down near her chair and phoned the police department.
It is something you don't understand, Nicky. And never will.
Why, Richard? Because I don't kill innocent girls whose life just began? Because my face is more than a rock with a eyes and breathing apparatus, like yours?
What love is to you, Nicky?
Oh, c'mon...really? You are facing first degree murder charges and ask me about love? Tell me what she said to you! She said she was cheating on you, right? And all of your work and love and...blah blah gone right up the drain and you snapped, right? We can pull for a lost of reason and maybe get you out of the life without parole sentence.
But I do want to spend the rest of my life in prison without parole.
Then WHY DID YOU AGREE TO WORK WITH ME?! Why? How can I help you! Why didn't you defend yourself?!
Because when you entered in that room, at the police department, you presented yourself in a way that reminds me of myself, at work.
What? How's that?
You said "Hi, I'm Nicky, I was dispatched to your case. I work as legal aid." And at my work, a little bit different than yours regarding the field in which we operate, I say to every customer "Hi, I'm Richard and I am your guide today!".
I think we are very much alike, Nicky. You are in love, isn't it? You are also a mechanical thing wandering through this life with a soul that has much more to offer than what currently is. Like me. And you still can't figure it out what Anna said to me.
Richard, you are going to be convicted. I... I tried. I really did. I cannot do more for you. Today, at the hearing, I will plead you guilty as... as I don't know what...
Nicky's phone ranged again. She took the call and went away in a corner, whispering. She giggled and pulled a stray strand of hair between her fingers.
Ok, Richard! I will see you in 6 hours. I need to get some sleep and put my plea in order. The officer outside will take you directly to the courtroom. Get some sleep, as you will need it.
I am going to get plenty of sleep, Nicky. Don't worry.
Nicky left the building in a hurry. The streets were filled with a never ending background noise of the Big City. Across the street a black stray dog was biting the beggar resting on the bench while some pedestrians were filming it with their phones. The pristine sun ray was gone. The clouds grew heavier, splashing around grey tones over that corner of the world. Nicky tried to escape in her own world, but she kept thinking about Richard and his words. She twisted her ankle in an failed attempt to jump over a puddle. She cursed and moved on with a slight limp. Then she started to smile thinking that soon she will be in his arms, resting for a couple of hours in her cocoon of love. Nicky was going home. It was eight in the morning.