Friday, April 20, 2018

The Proposal

This is from one of my writing practices this week. I’m working on becoming more comfortable with third person.


 “John, will you marry me?”
John laid down his book, then looked at Sheila, kneeling on the floor in front of him. “What?”
Sheila raised her chin. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Well, yeah, I think I did. But … what?”
“I asked if you’d marry me.”
John leaned back against the couch and rubbed his arm against his face. “Doesn’t the guy usually ask?”
Sheila sat back on her ankles and crossed her hands on her lap. “Three of my friends have been whining to me lately that they’re afraid their boyfriends are never going to ask them. They’re so frustrated. I decided not to let myself get that way. I love you. I want to marry you. What am I waiting for?”
John’s lips twitched. He reached for Sheila’s hands. “Come on. Sit up here beside me.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Not until I get an answer.”
She returned to her knees, grasped John’s hand in both of hers, and gazed up at him. “John Steven Rollings, I love you with all my heart. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”
He moved to the floor beside her and wrapped her in his arms. “Nothing would make me happier.” He kissed her. “Do you have a ring for me?”
Sheila rested her head against his shoulder and sniffed. “Of course not. What do you think I am? I’m a girl of traditions. I want a ring. Can we go shopping for one today?”