Tag Archives: proposal

1945. The case of the mysterious proposal

When Anita got to the last sip of her tea at the rather sophisticated afternoon tea-party there was an engagement ring at the bottom of her cup. Her first thought was “I was lucky not to have swallowed all those diamonds”. Then she wondered whose ring may have slipped off as they drank tea and she had picked up the wrong cup. And then she wondered, “I wonder if this ring was meant for me? I have dated two of the men here but I doubt that either was serious enough.”

She glanced around. No one seemed to be watching her. No one seemed to be waiting for a “Yes!” No one seemed to be anticipating a surreptitious shriek of excitement to escape her cherry red lips.

If the proposal was real it would be so banal to simply say, “Hey! Look what I found!” She would spend an entire marriage living with the dullness of having not looked pleased at the marriage proposal.

George came over to her. He was undoubtedly the handsomest man there – or so Anita thought – although he wasn’t one of the two that Anita had been out on dates with.

“How’s it going?” said George.

“Good,” said Anita. “And how are you?”

“Good,” said George. “Would you like another cup of tea?”

“I’d love one,” said Anita.

George took Anita’s cup and saucer and headed for the table with the teapot. He returned.

“Thank you so much,” said Anita. George moved further around the room.

Needless to say, Anita was rather keen to get to the bottom of her cup. Was the ring still there? She was halfway through sips of her too, too hot tea when Berwyn began squealing in the far corner of the room.

“Oh George! Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Oh Georgie darling! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

1744. Toast for breakfast

Archie’s morning was always the same. It’s not that his life was regimented; it’s just that anything prior to nine in the morning, roughly the time when he awoke from his post-rising stupor, was done by rote. He would get out of bed; get partially dressed; turn on the coffee machine; feed the cat; check the news on his laptop; pour the coffee; put on some toast; and begin to have breakfast.

While he was eating his toast, always with raspberry jam, he would read the blogs he followed. There was one blogger who annoyed the hell out of him. The blogger was always killing people off. Every day it would be another story and another dead person. Sometimes death by poisoning, sometimes strangulation. Why couldn’t he write a happy story for a change? Nonetheless, Archie couldn’t help but sneak a peek every morning as he ate his toast. Possibly Archie, every morning, was hoping for something happy to happen in one of the stories. And would you believe…?

This day was sheer happiness! Freddy had fallen in love with Leonie at the school picnic. They were teachers at the school, not pupils. They had dated for several months and then Freddy proposed to Leonie. It was quite out of the blue.

“Yes! Yes!” said Leonie, beside herself with gladness. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” They kissed! They planned their wedding day! Oh happy day! Oh happy, happy day!

Archie, having breakfast, was beside himself with excitement. A cheerful story! For once something jubilant happens in this blog he followed daily! Oh happy day! Oh happy day indeed! To celebrate, Archie took a great big bite of the slice of toast he was eating.

He choked on it, and now he’s dead.

1605. Franklyn’s tiny tattoo

Franklyn had what seemed like a tiny tattoo between his thumb and forefinger on his left hand. It was more of a little scratch than a design. No one had really noticed it, except for Barbara. She’d asked Franklyn about it and he said that indeed it was a scratch. He’d been cleaning the wood burner, scratched his hand, and when the tiny wound healed it entrapped a bit of soot. Hence the tattoo.

Barbara had jokingly said that she never would have believed she’d fall in love with a man with a tattoo! And now she was invited to Franklyn’s twenty-fifth birthday party, and Barbara sensed that this was to be the big day. He would “pop the question”.

At the party there were quite a few familiar faces, and quite a few friends of Franklyn that she had never met before. Barbara moved through the room, introducing herself and, in fact, charming many. It was then she noticed something strange. Franklyn was not the only one with a tiny tattoo between his thumb and forefinger. Rick had one, as did Dave. Barbara quietly observed. In the end she counted eight guests, all males, with the tiny tattoo.

She asked Franklyn about it. That night, Barbara died in her sleep.

Bloody aliens.

1571. An organized proposal

Adrian and Alan had been in a same-sex relationship for just over three years. Adrian decided it was time to propose. It wasn’t quite clear in such a relationship as to who should do the proposing, but Adrian decided he had waited long enough and so took the matter into his own hands. It was to be a special occasion.

Adrian planned every second of the event. Really, it was all rather exciting! First they would go to the go-cart track (they loved doing that, it was how they met), hire a go-cart each, and race around for half an hour or so to determine who was the superior go-cart driver.

Next, they would go for a wander through the botanical gardens. It was the tulip season and every year they had celebrated tulips by strolling through the gardens at the very peak of flowering. In fact, they so loved the tulip celebration that they had selected two tulips as a symbol of their relationship and had devised a monogram to go on their front door.

After the tulips they would go to a fancy restaurant; not too fancy mind you, because they weren’t exactly made of money, but fancy enough to make things special. They both especially liked “The Plucked Auk” – which ironically never had auk on the menu. Not to worry. Both would inevitably order a hearty steak, rare, in fact, blue.

Finally they would wander down to the estuary and stroll along the winding river path in the evening light. The stars! The moon! It would be then that Adrian would propose. Let’s hope the weather was fine. The forecast said it would be.

Adrian announced to Alan, it being some not particularly important anniversary of something or rather, that he had planned a special afternoon and evening. Such regular celebrations had always been part of their living together.

Well! Would you believe? They were about to leave home when Alan went down on one knee, produced a ring, and said to Adrian, “Will you marry me?”

Some people know how to stuff things up.

1549. Down on one knee

(The closing sentence for this story was suggested by Terry of ARANEUS1. If you want to join in the fun of suggesting a future closing sentence for these stories, click here for a peek as to what’s what.)

I’d put it off for long enough. Leonie-Lee was my life and light. We had been dating now for three years. It was time to propose marriage, but to be honest, what if she said “No”? The possibility of a “No” – no matter how improbable it was in reality – had always come in the way of proposing. I wish she’d taken advantage of that quirky thing (I believe it’s the case) and proposed to me herself last Leap Day.

I caught the number 12 tram. It stops almost outside my house. There’s no need to walk far except down the garden path. In fact, when it rains, I simply wait in my porch and when the number 12 tram approaches I dash out and board the tram raincoat-less and umbrella-less. Crossing the road can be a bother, but there’s a place for pedestrians to cross, although these days who can trust the road-raging drivers? Of course, I carry my coat and umbrella, because when I reach the tram stop where I alight I still have to walk a good half hour to arrive at Leonie-Lee’s house.

I had the engagement ring and everything. In fact I’ve been so excited about this decision that I haven’t slept for two days. Not the briefest forty winks.

When I got off the number 12 tram the sun was shining. The day couldn’t have been more pleasant if I’d planned it myself. I practically skipped my way to Leonie-Lee’s. This was to be the happiest day of my life thus far.

Anyway… that was a couple of hours ago. Leonie-Lee said… well… it doesn’t matter. Same as last time. Afterwards, I headed straight for home. As I stepped off the number 12 tram, dodging impatient traffic, it started to rain.

1494. Punting on the river

Fintan knew the time had come for him to propose marriage to Angela. What was holding him up? He wanted to propose creatively. He wanted it to be memorable. He wanted it to be both romantic and different.

He suggested to Angela that they hire a punt on the river. The river was deep and slow and picturesque. They would take a picnic lunch and pull over to the side, perhaps under a weeping willow. And then either before or after lunch, when all seemed most idyllic, he would propose. Of course, Fintan made a few trial runs in a hired punt secretly. He wanted to know how best to guide the boat, and best where to go.

It was a beautiful summer’s day. Birds sang. A fish jumped up out of the water just as their punt passed by. It was as if it was dancing for the joy of the occasion. A mother duck protected her batch of newly hatched ducklings. How wonderful! At one stage, quite by accident, some sad, winsome, romantic oboe music wafted from a manor beyond the expansive lawn on the river bank. This would be the moment, the perfect moment to propose.

Fintan went down on one knee. “Angela,” he said, “will you marry me?” Fintan’s change in posture unbalanced the punt. Angela didn’t even have time to say “Yes!” before the boat toppled over and they drowned.

1420. The proposal

Not every match is made in heaven, but this one was. Annabelle and Xavier had met at a table tennis competition in town. It had been organised by the Trinity Anglican Parish. It was when Annabelle had beaten (just the once) Xavier at ping pong that Xavier thought Annabelle worth looking at twice.

“How would you like to go out next Saturday?” asked Xavier. That was the beginning. The sun came out from the clouds and never left.

Today Annabelle was off to see Xavier. He had something to tell her; something very important; something very special. Annabelle knew it would be a marriage proposal. She would pretend to be surprised, but really… really… how could she not guess? She wasn’t born yesterday.

Annabelle took the shortcut to Xavier’s place: over a stile, through a cornfield, over another stile… The colours that day were ten times more vibrant. A flock of goldfinches were stealing corn. “You little thieves!” laughed Annabelle. She heard a skylark sing, way up in the sky. “It’s the wedding march!” laughed Annabelle.

And there he was! Xavier at the second stile! Down on one knee!

“Annabelle,” said Xavier, “will you marry me?”

“Oh yes!” said Annabelle. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” and a second skylark joined the singing in the sky. The moon rose in the middle of the day. A briar rose near the stile burst into flower. A rooster crowed. A cherry tree scattered ripe and succulent fruit.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

(Post script: If you don’t like happy endings you should know by now not to read this blog.)

1033. That’s because

Your lips are as sweet as honey.
– That’s because I’ve been cooking dinner and tasting it to make sure it’s to your liking.

Your hands are soft and fragrant.
– That’s because I’ve been doing the laundry in the tub because your washing machine is broken.

Your hair is wild and natural and lovely.
– That’s because I’ve been up the hill out the back in the wind collecting firewood to warm the house.

Your body is lithe and perfect, like a model in an advertising centrefold of popular magazines.
– That’s because I spend hours digging your vegetable garden and mowing your lawns.

Your walk is as graceful as a gazelle.
– That’s because I walk your dog every day.

Your taste in clothes is impeccable.
– That’s because I buy the occasional thing with money earned from working a forty hour week.

You are the perfect woman. Marry me.
– I’m outta here.

Poem 17c: A modest proposal

17cproposal

(a pantoum, with seven footnotes to aid scholars) (1)

I know you’ll say no
No! No! The answer’s yes!
But can we give marriage a go?
I thought you’d never ask, I must confess.

No! No! The answer’s yes!
I went and bought a ring(2) in case.
I thought you’d never ask, I must confess.
I didn’t want to lose face, Stace.(3)

I went and bought a ring(4) in case.
I’ve already said I will
I didn’t want to lose face, Stace.(5)
You’re not listening to me, Bill.(6)

I’ve already said I will
I knew you didn’t love me
You’re not listening to me, Bill.(7)
You think you’re way above me.

I knew you didn’t love me
Now you’re pissing me off
You think you’re way above me.
Yeah right, I’m one of them highfalutin toffs.

Now you’re pissing me off
But can we give marriage a go?
Yeah right, I’m one of them highfalutin toffs.
I knew you’d say no.

(1) “A Modest Proposal” – Not to be confused with Jonathan Swift’s literary work with the same name
(2) An engagement ring
(3) Her name was Stacey; Stace for short. The shortening of her name implies that he knew her quite well
(4) Probably the same ring as in note 2
(5) This is the same person as in a couple of footnotes back
(6) His name was Bill
(7) This is the same person as in another footnote, not the footnote regarding Stacey but the one about Bill