Narrative Essays: The Inn

Narrative Essays: The Inn

Length: 1204 words (3.4 double-spaced pages)

Rating: Strong Essays

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The next morning, Nicole sat relaxing on her evil couch, trolling through the internet on her iPad. She would neither confirm or deny she was looking up pictures and stories about her current guest. Either way, she was unsure of Benedict's plans, so she had woken early to get the day's training out of the way. One day, out of nowhere, she had decided she wanted to run in a Disney event. Well, not just any Disney event. The Tinkerbell run. Since she loved all things Tinkerbell, so she wanted a Tinnkerbell medal. She was training for the 10k but hoped to be far enough along by the time the race came around, to be able to do the Half Marathon. Although, that seems like an awful long time to run. Hours, in fact. She had spent most of her years actively hating running. If it hadn't been for the idea of this race, she would still be bad mouthing the activity. What she discovered, was if you push through the initial discomfort, it was a wonderful stress relief. Her anxiety levels had dropped drastically. Anxiety, she found, was a fantastic fuel. She always beat her times and distance if she was particularly anxious that day. Of course, she was still in the beginning of the training, and still running at the gym on a treadmill, which she loved, (Air-conditioning, TV, people around if you dropped from a heart attack, what's not to love.) even if she was ridiculously slow.
Once back, she cleaned up and prepped items for breakfast for her guest. That was fairly early, around 8:00AM or so. She supposed, he would be sleeping in today. He was most certainly exhausted from his trip and she, not knowing what time zone he was coming from, may be jet lagged, too. A couple of hours later, she heard the beginnings of stirrings ...


... middle of paper ...


... hit the electric window and rolled it down. "They're pulling it around now."
"Cool."
He paced around outside until the employee pulled up in a sterling grey Convertible Mustang. Nicole's eyes widened in surprise and stifled a laugh. She covered her mouth when the stifling eventually failed. Now, it's a nice, car. That's for damn sure, but could he be anymore cliche? I guess he could, he could have gotten a hybrid. She climbed out of her car and rested her arms and head on the roof, smiling.
"Cliche, huh?" he asked her laughing.
"A little bit."
He shrugged, "When in Rome. Maybe I can impress all the west coast birds with my wheels."
Like you need the car to do that. She thought. "Well, I can't mock your car with this little four banger, so..."
"No drag racing, then?" he asked climbing into the muscle car.
"Hardly." She said climbing into hers.

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