Daily Prompt: No Party for Me (short fiction)

Daily Prompt: Party Animals (?).

He had been at this party for only an hour, but was looking for his exit.  It was a bit shocking that he was even invited, being on the fringe on the “in” group.  He had been looking forward to the party all week…or maybe not so much ‘looking forward’ as nervously anticipating it.  But there was some excitement.  Would he actually be in with this group now?  Had his sorry social life finally taking a turn for the better?  And what he should wear took more time and effort than he wanted to admit.  But now that he was here, he knew he should never have come.  There were so many witty people laughing, telling stories, taking up where the last person left off.  It was almost as if it were choreographed.  And the couple times he had thought of something to say, the moment had passed, and someone else was talking.

John was in the middle of a story about his car having broken down after a basketball game.  Now was his chance to leave.  They were all listening with rapt attention.  All he had to do was ask the guy next to him where the bathroom was, get up and leave.  If he never came back, no one would notice.

He made the short walk home disgusted with himself.  How would he ever get any fun friends if he never said anything at a party?  At home he pulled out his journal and dove in…berating himself for not bringing up the story of the pigeon droppings on the chauffeur of the limo his father had arranged for at prom.  That one would have dove-tailed nicely with the tale Bill had just told.  But no, he hesitated  just long enough to miss the moment.

He sighed and put the journal down for a bit.  A smile was edging its way in.  He began to think about what he had that they might not.  He loved that fact that he was introspective.  …that he could analyze an evening like this.  He had written so much about his feelings and motives that he knew himself well.  He could use this knowledge to better himself.  Yes, he was not stuck here.  He could be the master of his own destiny.  And even if he never made it with the social crowd, he knew he would succeed.  …in something.  His gift of writing would be used somehow….somehow.  He smiled and drifted off to sleep.

About Cinnwriter

Scientist who enjoys writing fiction, but can hardly find the time for it.
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1 Response to Daily Prompt: No Party for Me (short fiction)

  1. Pingback: Philosophy of Friendship | Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me

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