Glass Beads For Sale

I'm writing a story and I need a good twist help me?

this is it sooo far so tell me what you think and what should happen next! The floor was fresh with a Windex finish, stopped short only by a soft taupe carpet sprinkled sparingly with brown beads, the walls enveloping the room with an aura so calm only to be counteracted by my racing heart. Saks Fifth Avenue, is there any place more momentarily, substantially fulfilling? I stopped short once I caught a glimpse of the magnificent wonder that lay ahead of me. Just past the primly tailored suits and the sweet, summer gossamer skirts, a mannequin whose white smooth finish was covered massively with the most beautiful gown. It had a sweetheart neckline and a dip in the back. Gold and bronze iridescent beads swallowed the top portion of the dress and trickled down the large skirt that was a blackened organza river. The entire masterpiece was held up by only two dainty, thread-like straps. He store clerk’s eyes bore into my back, her pre-order, studded, Gucci toe tapping anxiously against the gleaming, marble floor as I lightly fingered the delicate, frothy creation. Surrounding me were tall, glass cases protecting canvas and leather pocketbook creations by various designers, their labels looking at me like beautiful, unobtainable puppies, needing to be adopted. My American Express card looked at me with its magnetic strip smile as I looked longingly at the beautiful bags. I had gotten rid of other cards, gone to classes; I knew how to resist this. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, unintentionally breathing in the smell of Italian leather. Saks really is a dangerous place for me to be. The overflowing makeup counters with their preppy sales women squirting overpriced perfume left and right were extremely luring, coming second only to the silk-satin and chiffon rivers that flowed upstairs. I scrambled down the escalator, my half price Prada heels clicking the whole way down. I ran out into the noisy, garbage filled streets filled with hot dog and magazine stands, and took a breath, riding myself of the cash register ringing sound that filled my ears. The skyline swirled around me as angry cab drivers honked their horns. I hailed one of them over and requested a ride to Brooklyn. My friend Leah had just moved there with her husband Rick and their new daughter Annabelle. We usually take turns visiting each other but since Leah’s grandmother had recently been sick and she was staying with them, I made an extra trip. “Alice!” Leah greeted me warmly. “Lee!” We embraced but were interrupted by a little girl in need of a diaper change. Leah excused herself knowing the smell of a baby’s dirty diaper was unbearable since I got the bandages removed from my recent rhinoplasty procedure. Leah had been my best friend since forever, and since forever; we had been planning to grow up together in the Big City, get married together, the whole package. However, the two of us didn’t end up following the same path. I got a job as head buyer at Barney’s New York and an abundance of Botox, and Leah got a family. I had always been a little bit jealous of Leah but never had the guts to admit it. I’m not sure why but Leah sometimes seemed almost envious, like she longed for a life like mine. It showed at times like when she would offer to take my coat but before hanging it up she would longingly finger the Yves Saint Laurent embossed tag. The way I lived was shallow and unfulfilling but from the outside looked completely satisfying and untouchable. Leah and her Rick always seemed so in love. He would send her flowers, she would send him cute little emails at work. I really tried not to pity myself but seeing them together, as a family, in their Brooklyn flat that could have come straight out of page 26 of the Crate and Barrel catalogue would, Botox aside, make my face freeze up. .

Public Comments

1. So if I help you write this book by giving you my plot ideas, will you give me credit and royalties when you've sold the story? Didn't think so. You need to come up with the story yourself - it's YOUR story, and you need to know it inside and out, backwards and forwards. You don't want to run into the problem of a lawsuit down the road, where someone tries to lay claim to your story by saying they contributed part of the plot. Try coming up with a few ideas and bouncing them off of people you trust. Good luck!