annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Ida in the city
We used this as a prompt in writing group this week. Nighthawks by Edward Hopper:
This is what I wrote, backstory for one of my characters:
Ida was telling Bella about the time she went to the US, with her husband, now thankfully her late husband, may he rot in hell.
He’d been miserable, critical and difficult, since the day after their wedding but on this holiday he’d been even worse, constantly issuing orders, telling her to stop talking and always speaking in a tense, unpleasant voice. She decided she’d had enough, couldn’t live her whole life like this. and one night in the hotel when he was asleep she silently dressed herself, took her passport from his jacket pocket and crept away, down the stairs, out of the door, round the corner, into the silent street.
She only had a few dollars and had no idea what to do but in the distance she could see lights were on in the diner. They’d been in there a few days ago and Bill, the guy behind the counter had caught her eye in a kindly way when the husband called her a stupid bitch for not knowing what eggs over easy were. She decided to go there and ask Bill’s advice – he might know where she could find a job or where she could sell her rings to tide her over.
She’d barely said a word when the door crashed open and there he was, furious. She refused to look at him, stared straight ahead.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at? Back to the hotel, now!”
She didn’t move, just stared ahead. Bill quietly said, “The lady’s just started her coffee. She’s not ready to leave.”
“Who the hell asked you?”
There was another man sat at the counter. He turned round and pushed his coat aside, revealing a gun tucked into his waistband. He looked at the gun, looked at the husband. The husband shrugged and sat on a stool next to Ida. He ordered a beer.
They sat in silence.
4:48 p.m. - 15.02.24
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