The Skater and the Composer short story

Though most of my writing is non-fiction, I wanted to share this short story with you (this story has been featured on authorsden, associatedcontent, and inthe  ebook compilations of short stories for Hasmark Services.

Follow Star Skater Carrie Olan from tragedy to the edge of love…

Blades swished on the ice and sprayed light snow in the air as Carrie ended her practice session. The five foot three inch brunette, shook loose her pony tail as she stepped off the ice. Her legs shook from the hard practice session and she was breathing deeply. Sectionals were not too far away and this was the time to push, push, and push. Or so her coach was always saying to the skating pair. Carrie’s thoughts flickered to Carl and his long illness. She hoped and prayed he would be back on the ice in time for competition. Though- she despised the stereotype of the “cute brother/sister team”; they really did make a great team. He was disciplined and focused, while she was showy and fun, which created the balance that had made them the up and coming pairs team on the level of great pairs teams like Tai and Randy and Kitty and Peter.

            The Carl and Carrie Olan pair’s success had been clouded recently by Carl’s extended illness. At first, it just seemed like a long cold, and then he became weak and lethargic. The diagnosis turned to Mono and six weeks off the ice. Carrie tried to train alone, but it was not the same. She worked diligently to cheer up her brother and even cooked some of his favorite dishes like home made chili and home made lasagna. Carrie tried not to worry, but for the nineteen year old, the idea of missing skating competition seemed like the end of the world.

            Carrie slipped on her skate guards, making sure to protect her expensive blades, and strode over to the locker room while she thought about their costumes. She would use black, red and gold—bold colors to go with their bold routine. She designed the costumes herself even though she could have easily gone with one of the many experts. Her sponsors would willingly pay for it, but the petite brunette loved being involved in every detail of her skating world. The legendary pianist and composer Jonas Mann composed the bold, daring music specifically for her. Her coach Lori Land insisted this was the way to go. The music played hauntingly in Carrie’s dreams at night creating a connection to the composer even though they had not met. She knew Jonas was 37, had never been married, and he was known worldwide for his liaisons with starlets. His dark hair, held back in a ponytail, smoldering dark brown eyes, broad shoulders, and a firm jaw line, softened by that dimple in his chin, yes—he was any woman’s dream. Carrie thought he looked stoic, but sad in most of his media pics. She sighed, maybe we will meet some day, she thought.

            The cold spray of the locker room shower jolted her out of her thoughtful mood. Gees, she thought, when are they going to get a new water heater at this rink? The New Town rink looked good, but there definitely was room for improvement. I have got to get out of Minnesota, Carrie mused. New Town, a recent suburb development north of Minneapolis had attracted many families and businesses, but Carrie longed for adventure. She thought ahead to future days with skating shows and a possible sports media career. “I just have to put in the hard, physical work now and it will pay off later”.

            She quickly dressed in her jeans and a sweater. As she left the rink she called out a good bye to her favorite Zambonie driver, Rick. Carrie flashed her famous smile and her green gold eyes glittered with appreciation for his hard work to make the ice flawless for her.  She zipped her ski jacket, pulled on mittens, and braced herself against the bitter January wind.

A short two blocks walk through the snow and Carrie arrived at her brick trimmed town home. She and Carl were renting the town home to be close to the rink. Their parents still lived in the city. Carrie tried the door and it was locked. Damn, she thought, and searched for her key. Finally, at the bottom of her handbag, she felt her key ring. Whew, she definitely did not want to crawl through a window, again. As she opened the door, music trailed through the house. The warm heat of the apartment welcomed her in the door. Carrie recognized the music and remembered one of their pair’s routines with a smile. Once inside, she thought instantly of food. Bananas and chocolate milk were her two favorites after a long practice. Gulping the milk, she felt some energy return. Carrie looked around the kitchen at the modern wood and marble fixtures that were typical of the development.  

            I have got to put up a few decorations, she chided herself, the place would look more homey.

“Carl”, she called out and received no answer. Click Here to Read More

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