I participated in a writing forum a couple of years ago and moderated the creative writing project. This is an example of one submission that I made to monthly contest. The object is to tell a story that engages within a narrow length guideline. In this case, the story had to take place within three paragraphs. You may like it - or not. It's not autobiographical.
Oh, Christ, I feel ten years older today than I did yesterday. Was it the three-hour basketball marathon, drinking at the pub until I closed it down or the sex that lasted until the dawn’s morning light blasted like thunder through the windowpane? He stepped out of the row house that bordered the river and was happy to see that the pick-up truck was still there. There were a few dents and scrapes in the sheet metal hide, but the damned thing ran like a clock. The truck’s like me, he thought to himself. Well, except for today.
He’s confident, I’ll give him that, and he’s great in bed. She propped her head with one arm and watched him pull the razor over his face, shearing off the overnight stubble. Wide shoulders, narrow waist and the towel is dipping just so. It’s a pity I’m leaving him today. I’ll miss him. Ok, part of me will. He reminds me of that old truck he drives. Yeah it runs well, but it’s lost its appeal. It’s the same old truck. And it’s time for something new.
She loves me, but she has trouble with the rut I live in. I can’t stand those pretentious wine snobs and pseudo intellectuals she hangs with. I’ll buy the diamond today and she’ll think better of me. Commitment will bring her closer and things will all work out. Maybe if she comes out, plays basketball with me and gets sweaty on the boards instead of in the sack, she’ll like being with me again. At least she likes my truck.