Storydropping

“I wish you wouldn’t do that here. Can we please just get one moment together?” Alana regrettably hit the table with her fist. It was hard to silently yell in a crowded restaurant, but Thomas was gone. Her husband said he’d stay focused on her tonight, but that quickly felt like a lie.

“Don’t do what?” Thomas snapped back to reality. “What are you talking about? I’m listening!”

“Listening to who? You’re at every table, but ours!” She loudly whispered.

“No, I’m not! I didn’t bring the notebook! I’m focused! This date was my idea, remember?” Thomas reached across the table for her hand, but she pulled away.

“Clearly!” Alana crossed her arms.

“What?” Thomas felt guilty.

“Whenever you need ideas, you always find a chaotic party or terribly busy place and absorb as many characters as you can in a night. You’re storydropping. Aren’t you?” Thomas felt ashamed. She’s known his tricks for years. She knew the night she caught him crashing her best friend’s wedding reception. And, the night she secretly read her name scribbled in his little notebook after they made love for the first time.

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Thomas stammered.

“Say nothing, Thomas. Just write.”

“What?”

“You have ten minutes. Write the ideas and thoughts scrambling in your head. Then, will you be here with me tonight?” Alana fought back tears.

“Yes.” Thomas looked into her eyes.

“Good. Start.”

He pulled out his pen.

Then, slowly his notebook.

And began to write.