Here’s my first pass at writing a scene in this story. I have several ides for scenes so I think I may write them down and then start to piece them together and fill in the holes. I think the dialogue is casual and believable, but I don’t get mcuh sense of scene from this section. I’ll have to work on that. This has already helped me pull pieces of the plot together. There is profanity in here:
“You think you lost control of your life somewheres along the way sweetheart? Huh? That it?” Shaquiela asked, confronting him.
Marcus raised his head, forced to break his reverie of self-loathing and misery. “What are you getting at? Yeah, obviously I lost control.”
“Shit honey, you didn’t lose control, you never had none to begin with!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air as her voice rose. Marcus glanced around the nearly deserted street. What the hell part of town are we in anyways?
“You going Zen on me now, S? Because I get enough of that from those fancy little self help and philosophy books I buy at Barnes & Noble.” Marcus replied glibly.
She just shook her dark head in disgust, looking down. She murmured, “Ain’t no Zen shit, just common sense.” Shaquiela’s dark eyes glanced over to Marcus. A white man in the wrong part of town, dressed all fancy in a suit that cost more than she’d ever charged a whole night’s full of johns. Johns she wasn’t gettin’ dough from while she trotted around with this sad case. “Never did like them fancy coffee-and-books stores. My momma…shit, you don’t care nothin’ ‘bout that, come on.” She flapped her arms dismissively and began to walk off.
Marcus hurried a few steps down the cracked sidewalk and grabbed her arm, lightly. “No, wait. What? Your mother?” Shaquiela turned and looked up into his brown eyes. Damn fine brown eyes for not being a brother. How many girls’ hearts did he break before he came out as big ol’ fag?
“Yeah, my momma.” She replied cryptically, wistfully. She turned again and began to walk, but this time expecting him to walk along side. She turned and crossed Lamar headed south. “She took me to the ol’ library down on Hickory. That big ol’ red brick building. Sure was a beauty back in the day when they took care of it. Wasn’t full no homeless loafers then. Hehe” she chuckled to herself at some long forgotten memory. “Momma wanted me to check out journalism books and writin’ books. Be some big reporter or writer someday she figured.”
“What did you check out?”
“Romance novels. Thin little paperbacks with the bindin’ all crinkled up. I ate’em up!” she exclaimed. Marcus couldn’t help but let laughter escape. It faded though as the thought of romance led quickly to memories of Steven and their early days.
“Shaquiela, you ever been in love?” He looked straight at her as he asked the question to see her face in the dim streetlight as best as possible, but she kept her face down and in shadow as she remained silent for a few moments. Only the distant sounds of car horns and other late night pedestrians a few blocks away could be heard. “Yeah, I was. Once. Ain’t never gonna let myself screw up like that again. No way no sir. Not that everything about that was a mistake.” Pausing, Shaquiela grabbed Marcus’ black suitcoat sleeve. “You still with me for the night, girlie boy?”
Marcus just nodded, almost solemnly.
“Alright then, come on. Just up ahead. You may not always be in control, but don’t mean you can’t enjoy the good things that come along in life, unexpected as they may be.”