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Sharon In The Shadows

She slipped her key into the lock and quietly stepped inside. Near darkness. But she liked the dark; found it comforting. She turned on the ceiling light over her writing desk, dropped her keys into the tiny ceramic bowl and powered up her computer.

She'd managed to pass another day of her life as she liked, in the shadows. Sharon was a shy woman, 26, single and a bit of a recluse. She never spoke to her office colleagues unless spoken to and only then used such an economy of words that she would curtly reply to any inquiry and be gone like a puff of smoke down the corridor evading any form of socialization. She never heard the insults behind her back. The ones about being shy as a mouse and likely never amounting to much.

But at her computer she could talk. She wrote reams and reams of words. Sentences, paragraphs and pages rolled on and on across her screen. No one was aware of her activity, but then she had no friends that she might share it with. Kind of sad really.

Then one day she was checking her mail when she came across an unexpected letter from Columbia University. It had been weeks ago she had submitted her novel and at first her hands shook so much with the letter she could not open it. Several minutes passed and as she calmed down she was able to peel it open.

She could barely believe her eyes over the content and she started to tear up. She wiped away her tears and unbelievingly read through misty eyes:

Sharon Carver is this year's recipient of  the Pulitzer Prize for Literature with her book: 
I Am Reticent - A Memoir.

Sharon's shyness was soon a thing of the past.

Shy was the prompt from the folks at Studio30+ this week. This week's tale is pun free.


ReformingGeek said…
Well, now, what a nice piece of cheese for that shy mouse.
Katy B. said…
I like the idea of "an economy of words" and spending them sparingly. Nice!
nonamedufus said…
Straight and to the point. Always best.
Joe said…
I relate to Sharon, or at least, I wish to be able to do so. And my late father, a political analyst for the CIA, who had to write for State Dept. and White House simpletons-- I mean, "staffers," always preached the virtues of an economy of words. Clearly, it's something with which I struggle.
You don't, though - very concise piece, here!
nonamedufus said…
Obviously your Dad was likely forced into an economy of words having to deal with political simpletons. Having worked in the Government of Canada for close to 30 years I completely understand.
Cheryl said…
This story is almost an precursor to your latest, almost pun-free piece. Your ability to get inside both of these people's heads is not hard to believe but the gold is in the writing.
nonamedufus said…
Thanks, Cheryl. I wanted to do a pun-less piece. And yes, this tale and the next are both takes on loneliness.
Perhaps it's not so much that we're shy, but that we're perfectionists. We spend so much time thinking about getting our words just right, by the time we actually get around to saying it no one is still around to hear it. Damn! And it sounded so good in my head!
nonamedufus said…
Yes, I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes we think we have things all worked out on our heads but it's so hard to transfer it to the page (or computer).

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