Comments thoughts about STORY?
Question:
The Love Story
Chapter 1 Remembrance
Prologue
It was a love story, if you place it in that assumption. A real, real true love story. It was as real as love can ever possibly prosper to as. It had moments of compassion and value, and vivid summer mornings as well. It was everything that grandpa had ever said it would be. It really was that one perfect summer time that defied the rest of the seasons, including the holidays. Was there not any other feeling more desirable in my entire life? Could there? Was there? Possibly not. The feeling itself consumed my being forever more. It was not a spell or curse nor any other wicked plague of any sort…But it was a spell nonetheless. It was the spell of supplication and compassion, excitement and enjoyment. It was the spell of love and value, and nothing more, and nothing less. Yet I myself did not want anything else. Not a sample of reason, not a taste of truth. Did it matter anyway? Not at the time it didn’t. It matters not, in all honesty, it matters not. Within those summer days, I knew then what I know now, what I cherish now. I knew the real meaning of emotion and value, there was no doubt. There could not possibly be any doubt. But where should I begin? Where can I possibly begin, this tale, this fantasy of mine? I really shouldn’t name it a fantasy, but more of a story, yes, yes this story if I may. I myself believe we all have our own adventure once we fall in love. It’s an adventure that engraves each other with feelings of understood curiosity. It’s simply a love story to begin with…
I was four when my mother left me at my grandparents house. It was a very calm afternoon, not too bright, not too hot. I laid there in the back seat of my mother’s vehicle asleep while she drove up to Everside Valley. -My mother, she was a red haired woman with shiny jewelry on her wrist, and a cough as deep and loud as the engine itself. She drove with one hand, and smoked a cigarette with the other. Just like a real small town driver. The same bumpy road rocked me asleep a few hours ago, yet woke me up the same. Jagged bumps rocked the car from side to side, as if driving upon a wide open sea. I woke up almost suddenly, no tears, no sound, just calm. The dim sun was shining its way through the windows now, like when a new dawn shines its way through am open forest. I remember then looking among the window and noticing how enormous the country side was. Astonish and dumb struck would be two words to describe my excitement at the moment. Yet it was not like I burst in words or sound just then, but with my sleepy eyes, as they grew and slid opened wider. It seemed like the entire yellow prairie outside my window was alive, so very alive! Dancing with the wind, letting summer clouds and summer winds lead the dance first. The area was amazing and the day seemed so calm and steady, and safe. The clouds looked so very amazing, they were dim and gray around the entire valley road, and the sun was shining perfectly at the center. Like the center of a hurricane, -without a storm, just beauty. Yet a sudden stop occurred almost instantly, followed by a shuffling of papers. My mother pulled out a pen and paper that she found in her purse. Started writing. Then gave me a small note and scooted me out side the car door. Like anyone would if they were trying to scoot a spider, or an ant, or any other small bother. She then told me to keep walking… -just keep walking down the road, and knock once I reach a house. Her voice, sounded disturbed and annoyed. Standing outside, I looked to see where I was. I saw nothing. Just a mailbox next to a wooden fence, and a dirt road against an old tree. She then told me again in more of a haste: “Jeremy start walking” then added on a few moments later by saying: “Jeremy, Mommy needs to clean the car, keep walking I’ll be right behind you. Don’t look back sweetie. Just keep walking.” But could there have been any other choice? Was there nothing else was I destined to do but walk? Yet I trusted her, and I loved her. And if it meant walking all day and night, then I would, just to let her know I’m always behind her eyes. So I kept walking…just kept walking down the dirt covered road, silent, and never asking why. I had no problem with it, none at all. It was a normal walk just like any other. I would walk in front this time, to lead the way like a new adventure, that’s all, just a slight difference. I walked so very calm because I knew she would be right there walking behind my little tiny dirt steps.
I later realized that she never really was behind me. She had a banded me, and I would not admit it. I searched the entire house for her, -and only her. Opening and closing doors after doors over the years. Trying to find an answer…trying to find a reason. But that was the only time I can remember my mother, the rest before were only forgotten memories, missing pieces left unsolved.
A few years passed by, and I grew and prospered with my
Answer:
It's probably not best to start with the protagonists childhood and/or life's story.
Better to bring it up later, as part of their back story.
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