Split Proposal

The Memory Not Forgotten
By Crystal Meinberg

From the moment Melanie and her boyfriend Lance locked eyes at the coffee shop on the Pier, she knew it was love at first sight and it had been smooth sailing ever since. On this very day, Melanie was heading back to the memorable coffee shop. She had a feeling a surprise was in order, but she had no idea what it might be. Whatever it was, it was sure to be big.

San Francisco was a great place to live; the 29 years of her existence had taught her that. The weather today was no exception—sunny and mid-70’s. The greasy smell of hot dogs and salted popcorn wafted towards her from the food carts. As she walked, she pulled out a letter folded in her pocket. It was the first love letter Lance had written her. She could almost feel his warm embrace and soft kisses as she read it. Absorbed in her thoughts, she nearly ran over a man standing in front of her. As he turned and faced her, shock enveloped her. The blond hair, piercing green eyes, and overwhelming good looks were just too familiar. Melanie shoved the letter into her pocket and sprinted down the street, carefully avoiding the curious stare of the man.

It was Dylan, the love of her life. Not really her love. Actually, he is probably the only guy she loved that never loved her back. Are you kidding me? You’re ugly, stupid, and a dork. I wouldn’t go out with you even if you were the last girl alive in the entire 7th grade, you freak! His refusal still stung her ears, and the tears flowed freely as she ran. Slowing down to catch her breath, it all came flooding back to her. When she was 13 years old, Melanie had asked Dylan to go to the Valentine’s Day dance with her. He cruelly refused, and she never fully recovered. The thoughts she had repressed for so many years plagued her incessantly. Then everything started spinning and blinking. It must be an earthquake, she thought. But it was only Hannah who thought this. Everyone else saw a woman about to faint.

Somehow she regained her composure. Where was I going? Oh, yeah, the coffee shop. It’s strange that someone my age already drinks coffee, she thought as she skipped along the sidewalk. People were turning to stare at her as she breezed by them. She tried to whistle a New Kids on the Block tune after she slowed down to a walk. Wow, I really need to start trying harder in gym class, she thought, huffing and puffing.

Ring! The only girl in my class with a cell phone, she proudly remembered. But it was a wrong number. “Like, duh! There is no Melanie here. This is Hannah,” she proclaimed. She proceeded to hang up, confused by the person’s request. She looked down the street and saw a school-aged boy riding a moped. “Ooh! He’s hot!” she announced to no one in particular as she snapped on her gum. Her eyes lit up as she remembered Valentine’s Day was coming up. She was planning to ask Dylan, the boy in her English class she’d been crushing on all year, to go to the dance with her. He will definitely say yes, she thought as she pushed open the door to the coffee shop.

Skyrocket in IQ
By Joe Panozzo

As Hannah walked into the coffee shop, the aroma of cappuccino overtook her. She looked around curiously, confused by middle-aged customers. I’m going to check out the fashion magazines in the book area, she decided, bouncing over to the magazine rack bordering the literature area.

Before reaching the fashion section, the flashy cover of “Teen Magazine” caught her eye. She began to leaf through the magazine. I can’t believe she was caught dead in public with that! Mm, his hair looked so cute that night. During her perusal of the magazine she became distracted by an audibly escalating argument. In the corner, Hannah spotted an older woman with a bitter face and thick glasses. The visibly aged woman argued with one of the shop’s attendants.

“How can you not know if you carry Dickens?!” the woman berated. “Do you even have any idea who Dickens is? Can I please get somebody over here who knows how to read?”

Suddenly angered, Hannah’s childish, beaming face turned into an array of annoyance. The slumping posture of a teenage girl turned into the erect shoulders of a disciplined individual. Hannah’s wide eyes and observant gaze transformed into Stephen’s experienced stare. Arching an eyebrow, Stephen took the magazine in his hand and discarded it forcefully but precisely in its location. He marched over to the two disputing individuals.

“Is there some issue I may assist with over here?” Stephen asked in a low voice coated in a slightly English accent.

“Yes, actually you may be able…” the woman replied, startled by the bizarre voice and the aggression shown by the stranger. However, Stephen began to block her out, jumping to immediate conclusions about the woman’s lack of knowledge.

This buffoon can’t have any idea. Her education can’t be half what mine is, he thought. Stephen continued to stare through the woman, gazing at her with a sense of superiority and disgust. Once the woman’s mouth halted movement, Stephen began to speak again.

“If your limited knowledge of literature leads you to believe you possess a certain amount of elegance for requesting Dickens, you are quite mistaken,” Stephen said, in his stilted British accent and low inflections. “Maybe if you came in and requested something that would at least garner appreciation from the intelligentsia. Perhaps you should try Updike, Joyce or Faulkner. Until then, maybe you should shop elsewhere.”

He turned his back on the stunned woman and shop attendant, striding away from the literature section. My father didn’t send his eldest son to Oxford for nothing, he thought. With a newfound desire for the strong taste of espresso, he stepped up to the counter and ordered a cup. After receiving it, he sat down at a table in the corner. Why, precisely, am I lounging in a coffee shop so far from home? This looks nothing like London, he thought.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door swing open. The opening of the door brought the sound of a passing cable car and the sight of a vaguely familiar face bearing a nametag reading ‘Lance.’

Beginning of the End
By Kim Rawson

Walking in the door of the coffee shop, Lance impatiently took off his transition lenses and tried to locate Melanie. Finding it impossible to pinpoint her without his glasses, he impatiently patted the left pocket of his blazer. Damn eye wear. Glancing down at his spectacles, he noticed that he was still wearing his nametag from the convention. Damn nametags. Placing his glasses back on, Lance spotted Melanie and began to twist his way through the crowded coffee shop to get to Melanie’s side.

“Hey, Melanie. God, it’s been a long hot day. You’re a fresh breeze though. The thought of being with you made it hard for me to concentrate on my math convention.”

Stephen was sitting in a comfortable chair by the fireplace. If I was in my motel room I would be able to enjoy the softness of this chair. Stephen held his body in a very stiff manner. It was a sin for a man of his background to slouch in public. Stephen replied in a low voice coated in a slightly English accent, “Pardon me, but I do believe that you have mistaken me. I have no idea who you are. Allow me to introduce myself…I am…”

Suddenly everything started to spin and a crazy blinking occurred. Another earthquake? Melanie’s body slowly relaxed into the chair and a soft moan escaped her mouth. Melanie all of a sudden felt very tired. Softly she replied, “Oh, hi, Lance. Where have you been? How was your convention?”

“Melanie, love, are you feeling okay? Didn’t you hear me say that my thoughts were on you and not the convention?” I wonder what’s wrong with her. I’ve noticed lately that she’s not with the conversation. Like the other night on the phone, instead of the sweet soft voice that sounded so happy to hear from me. Her voice sounded deep, cold, and distant. She had no idea who I was or what I wanted.

“I feel just fabulous…but I’m anxious. I have this feeling that something wonderful is about to happen…. something that will change our relationship for good.”
“What on Earth would make you think that something special is going to happen today of all days? Hold that thought; I want to get an espresso. Would you like your usual?” I knew that she sensed that something was up. Darn, I really wanted to take her by surprise.

“No, not today. Just the espresso. Thanks.”

Melanie made her way to a comfortable overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace and waited for Lance to return.

“Tell me about your conference. Did you learn any new techniques on how to teach elementary math?”

“The conference would have been more interesting if I could have stayed more focused. Let’s say that if my head is the hour hand and it’s pointing at twelve o’clock and the minute hand is pointing to this pocket and the pocket represents a quarter past, then…” Lance pointed to the pocket on the left hand side of his shirt.

“What are you talking about? Have you gone nuts or something?” As Melanie was speaking, Lance took her hand and gently placed it upon his left pocket. Melanie’s eyes grew wide when she felt the box in the pocket.

Lance encouraged her to take the box from his pocket and open it. Inside the box was a beautiful 14-karat diamond ring.

“Oh, Lance…it’s beautiful…I don’t know what to say.”

Melanie’s eyes began to glisten with tears. “Oh, Lance, I can’t marry you.”

“I think you had better try to explain. What’s wrong? Why won’t you marry me?”

“You just don’t get it, do you? I CAN’T MARRY YOU!” Melanie began to cry, “Life is so unfair; I just want to be happy. I have to go…I’ll call you …later …bye.” All of a sudden there was that awful feeling again. Suddenly Melanie was spinning and a crazy light started blinking. Melanie thought, Earthquake.

Setting her espresso down, a light-hearted Hannah turned and bounced away from Lance. A carefree Hannah skipped out the door. Hannah noticed the sun setting on the horizon. Hannah stopped and took in the breathtaking sight of the beautiful golden yellow color of a lost engagement ring and the bright reddish-pink color of her favorite shirt. As the door closed behind her, Hannah pondered what her life would be like when she grows up and leaves home.

	Split Proposal Crystal Meinberg, Joe Panozzo, Kim Rawson
	As Fate Would Have It Split Proposal Heat Wave The Price of... Begging for Quarters Return to Intro Page	The Memory Not Forgotten By Crystal Meinberg From the moment Melanie and her boyfriend Lance locked eyes at the coffee shop on the Pier, she knew it was love at first sight and it had been smooth sailing ever since. On this very day, Melanie was heading back to the memorable coffee shop. She had a feeling a surprise was in order, but she had no idea what it might be. Whatever it was, it was sure to be big. San Francisco was a great place to live; the 29 years of her existence had taught her that. The weather today was no exception—sunny and mid-70’s. The greasy smell of hot dogs and salted popcorn wafted towards her from the food carts. As she walked, she pulled out a letter folded in her pocket. It was the first love letter Lance had written her. She could almost feel his warm embrace and soft kisses as she read it. Absorbed in her thoughts, she nearly ran over a man standing in front of her. As he turned and faced her, shock enveloped her. The blond hair, piercing green eyes, and overwhelming good looks were just too familiar. Melanie shoved the letter into her pocket and sprinted down the street, carefully avoiding the curious stare of the man. It was Dylan, the love of her life. Not really her love. Actually, he is probably the only guy she loved that never loved her back. Are you kidding me? You’re ugly, stupid, and a dork. I wouldn’t go out with you even if you were the last girl alive in the entire 7th grade, you freak! His refusal still stung her ears, and the tears flowed freely as she ran. Slowing down to catch her breath, it all came flooding back to her. When she was 13 years old, Melanie had asked Dylan to go to the Valentine’s Day dance with her. He cruelly refused, and she never fully recovered. The thoughts she had repressed for so many years plagued her incessantly. Then everything started spinning and blinking. It must be an earthquake, she thought. But it was only Hannah who thought this. Everyone else saw a woman about to faint. Somehow she regained her composure. Where was I going? Oh, yeah, the coffee shop. It’s strange that someone my age already drinks coffee, she thought as she skipped along the sidewalk. People were turning to stare at her as she breezed by them. She tried to whistle a New Kids on the Block tune after she slowed down to a walk. Wow, I really need to start trying harder in gym class, she thought, huffing and puffing. Ring! The only girl in my class with a cell phone, she proudly remembered. But it was a wrong number. “Like, duh! There is no Melanie here. This is Hannah,” she proclaimed. She proceeded to hang up, confused by the person’s request. She looked down the street and saw a school-aged boy riding a moped. “Ooh! He’s hot!” she announced to no one in particular as she snapped on her gum. Her eyes lit up as she remembered Valentine’s Day was coming up. She was planning to ask Dylan, the boy in her English class she’d been crushing on all year, to go to the dance with her. He will definitely say yes, she thought as she pushed open the door to the coffee shop. Skyrocket in IQ By Joe Panozzo As Hannah walked into the coffee shop, the aroma of cappuccino overtook her. She looked around curiously, confused by middle-aged customers. I’m going to check out the fashion magazines in the book area, she decided, bouncing over to the magazine rack bordering the literature area. Before reaching the fashion section, the flashy cover of “Teen Magazine” caught her eye. She began to leaf through the magazine. I can’t believe she was caught dead in public with that! Mm, his hair looked so cute that night. During her perusal of the magazine she became distracted by an audibly escalating argument. In the corner, Hannah spotted an older woman with a bitter face and thick glasses. The visibly aged woman argued with one of the shop’s attendants. “How can you not know if you carry Dickens?!” the woman berated. “Do you even have any idea who Dickens is? Can I please get somebody over here who knows how to read?” Suddenly angered, Hannah’s childish, beaming face turned into an array of annoyance. The slumping posture of a teenage girl turned into the erect shoulders of a disciplined individual. Hannah’s wide eyes and observant gaze transformed into Stephen’s experienced stare. Arching an eyebrow, Stephen took the magazine in his hand and discarded it forcefully but precisely in its location. He marched over to the two disputing individuals. “Is there some issue I may assist with over here?” Stephen asked in a low voice coated in a slightly English accent. “Yes, actually you may be able…” the woman replied, startled by the bizarre voice and the aggression shown by the stranger. However, Stephen began to block her out, jumping to immediate conclusions about the woman’s lack of knowledge. This buffoon can’t have any idea. Her education can’t be half what mine is, he thought. Stephen continued to stare through the woman, gazing at her with a sense of superiority and disgust. Once the woman’s mouth halted movement, Stephen began to speak again. “If your limited knowledge of literature leads you to believe you possess a certain amount of elegance for requesting Dickens, you are quite mistaken,” Stephen said, in his stilted British accent and low inflections. “Maybe if you came in and requested something that would at least garner appreciation from the intelligentsia. Perhaps you should try Updike, Joyce or Faulkner. Until then, maybe you should shop elsewhere.” He turned his back on the stunned woman and shop attendant, striding away from the literature section. My father didn’t send his eldest son to Oxford for nothing, he thought. With a newfound desire for the strong taste of espresso, he stepped up to the counter and ordered a cup. After receiving it, he sat down at a table in the corner. Why, precisely, am I lounging in a coffee shop so far from home? This looks nothing like London, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door swing open. The opening of the door brought the sound of a passing cable car and the sight of a vaguely familiar face bearing a nametag reading ‘Lance.’ Beginning of the End By Kim Rawson Walking in the door of the coffee shop, Lance impatiently took off his transition lenses and tried to locate Melanie. Finding it impossible to pinpoint her without his glasses, he impatiently patted the left pocket of his blazer. Damn eye wear. Glancing down at his spectacles, he noticed that he was still wearing his nametag from the convention. Damn nametags. Placing his glasses back on, Lance spotted Melanie and began to twist his way through the crowded coffee shop to get to Melanie’s side. “Hey, Melanie. God, it’s been a long hot day. You’re a fresh breeze though. The thought of being with you made it hard for me to concentrate on my math convention.” Stephen was sitting in a comfortable chair by the fireplace. If I was in my motel room I would be able to enjoy the softness of this chair. Stephen held his body in a very stiff manner. It was a sin for a man of his background to slouch in public. Stephen replied in a low voice coated in a slightly English accent, “Pardon me, but I do believe that you have mistaken me. I have no idea who you are. Allow me to introduce myself…I am…” Suddenly everything started to spin and a crazy blinking occurred. Another earthquake? Melanie’s body slowly relaxed into the chair and a soft moan escaped her mouth. Melanie all of a sudden felt very tired. Softly she replied, “Oh, hi, Lance. Where have you been? How was your convention?” “Melanie, love, are you feeling okay? Didn’t you hear me say that my thoughts were on you and not the convention?” I wonder what’s wrong with her. I’ve noticed lately that she’s not with the conversation. Like the other night on the phone, instead of the sweet soft voice that sounded so happy to hear from me. Her voice sounded deep, cold, and distant. She had no idea who I was or what I wanted. “I feel just fabulous…but I’m anxious. I have this feeling that something wonderful is about to happen…. something that will change our relationship for good.” “What on Earth would make you think that something special is going to happen today of all days? Hold that thought; I want to get an espresso. Would you like your usual?” I knew that she sensed that something was up. Darn, I really wanted to take her by surprise. “No, not today. Just the espresso. Thanks.” Melanie made her way to a comfortable overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace and waited for Lance to return. “Tell me about your conference. Did you learn any new techniques on how to teach elementary math?” “The conference would have been more interesting if I could have stayed more focused. Let’s say that if my head is the hour hand and it’s pointing at twelve o’clock and the minute hand is pointing to this pocket and the pocket represents a quarter past, then…” Lance pointed to the pocket on the left hand side of his shirt. “What are you talking about? Have you gone nuts or something?” As Melanie was speaking, Lance took her hand and gently placed it upon his left pocket. Melanie’s eyes grew wide when she felt the box in the pocket. Lance encouraged her to take the box from his pocket and open it. Inside the box was a beautiful 14-karat diamond ring. “Oh, Lance…it’s beautiful…I don’t know what to say.” Melanie’s eyes began to glisten with tears. “Oh, Lance, I can’t marry you.” “I think you had better try to explain. What’s wrong? Why won’t you marry me?” “You just don’t get it, do you? I CAN’T MARRY YOU!” Melanie began to cry, “Life is so unfair; I just want to be happy. I have to go…I’ll call you …later …bye.” All of a sudden there was that awful feeling again. Suddenly Melanie was spinning and a crazy light started blinking. Melanie thought, Earthquake. Setting her espresso down, a light-hearted Hannah turned and bounced away from Lance. A carefree Hannah skipped out the door. Hannah noticed the sun setting on the horizon. Hannah stopped and took in the breathtaking sight of the beautiful golden yellow color of a lost engagement ring and the bright reddish-pink color of her favorite shirt. As the door closed behind her, Hannah pondered what her life would be like when she grows up and leaves home. Comments for the Authors?