‘Jack-ass!’ Angie spat before the last of the shattered head-lamps crumbled onto the ground.
She jumped out of the car frothing at the mouth.
‘You bitch!’ was how she was greeted by the other driver whose face was a similar shade of puce as Angie’s was.
The red Porsche she had hit was complete with waxed metal, platinum rims and two tail lights sprinkled on the ground like fine fairy dust.
It wasn’t her fault though. There she was minding her own business, when a five-seater Mitsubishi passed by with three sheep packed at the back of it going ‘Beh!’ Continue reading
The dress was made at a bargain; a war was on and all the bride cared about was her prince in his freshly-pressed uniform. The groom left for France the day after the wedding. He was shot in a ditch a week later.
The second bride, a cousin of the first, married a doctor in that dress. The bride died of a fever her husband couldn’t cure.
Being a scientific man, the doctor never suspected that it was the curse on the dress that carried his girl away, and so the dress now stands in the shop, attracting prey.
For Friday Fictioneers, I really like this week’s picture, particularly because I love vintage wear! I love the story each garment can tell; who wore the dress? Why was it thrown away? Was there a first kiss in this dress? Was there a break up?
I had about 10 other ideas for this picture, but since I’m quite late, all my crispy concepts where taken by the time I read through all the brilliant posts. So, I settled for this one. Hope you like it 🙂
I dragged her screaming. But she never prayed for rescue, nor shed a tear. She glared at me; eyes burning in anger not fear. Therein lay her charm. She conquered me. I’m hers.
I gave you 33 words for this Monday’s Trifecta Challenge which is: CHARM (verb) 3: to control (an animal) typically by charms
Though technically I didn’t…I had this done for a Trifextra Challenge a couple of weeks back; the one that had no subject and just said, ‘Give us your best 33 words.’ Do you remember that one? Well I had prepared what by no means did I think were my best 33 words (by the way, thanks for not piling on the pressure on that one, Trifecta!) but they were the best I could do at the time. Then, when I pressed ‘Publish’ nothing happened. I tried and tried. In the end, my tiny story remained in the draft section till today and until I read Draug’s post – which is brilliant and also about dragons – and it was than that I remembered that I have a dragon of my own waiting his turn for a spot on the web.
So there you have it; a back story which is longer than the actual story and a tired writer hoping you’ll like her work.
Good night, you all!
Her body was sprawled on the floor visible through the heavy door’s open crack. Her eyes were shut, but I knew that face, only, I couldn’t remember how. I couldn’t remember much of anything.
I wanted to see if she was alive; I felt that I needed to. My breathing was getting too fast and too loud, so I held it and stepped closer pushing the door open. But that widening inch sounded like thunder hitting the dark hallway and my hand withdrew from the wood like it had turned white hot.
Footsteps came from my right. The corridor was a long, narrow expanse of darkness, but a golden archway was now rippling forward, lighting the stone, approaching in time with the footfalls. Continue reading
I saw her rising out of chaos, her emerald green eyes fixed on me, her mountainous bosom bare and long cascading curls of earthy brown billowing, held down only by a wreath of lavender, like a crown on her regal head. She smiled and I was smitten. But when with her lips, warm and welcoming she kissed me, I became hers completely.
We had children, many. I couldn’t get enough of her. Neither she of me, for a while. She liked my eyes, she said. She called them stars because they sparkled, especially in the dark.
It was our children that undid us in the end. Some beautiful, some cunning, some terrible and all strong, I hid those that were deformed, cruel and depraved. I didn’t want her to see. I was protecting her, I thought. But therein was my mistake. She was their mother; she loved them all. She found out and despaired. In her agony, she turned leaves from jade to ruby, then fell from trees like rusty tears. She turned her back on me after that even though I’m always here, waiting with my arms open, craving her embrace.
Look up, subdue my endless yearning
Love me as before
This week I write after almost a week and a half of posting absolutely nothing. My work schedule was – is – crazy, but I did manage a to mix a little work and play when I sneaked to Stockholm for a business trip last week – and that is one charming city!
Last challenge I took up before this one was the Trifextra – What does Summer mean to Trifectans. I did my post, but then forgot to link up! So if you want to see it at all, you can just click here; My Mediterranean Summer.
For this week, since it’s been so long, I have joined together two challenges: Trifecta with the word Rusty and Līgo Haibun where this week we celebrate nature and incorporate two pictures into our post.
It was difficult, but I thought I needed the challenge after such a long break from writing — I didn’t want to get rusty *ultra exaggerated wink and double nudge*
As for my post, all my research into the mythology behind the piece came from my favourite encyclopaedia but still I ignored most of the page (I hope Herodotus is not turning in his grave!) As for you, I hope you like the piece.
I stare vaguely out the window; passing shops, trees, faces, many faces. One stands out. The bus pauses at a stop and our eyes meet – one moment, one full second longer than a casual glance should have lasted – the bus moves on and the moment – that moment rich in possibilities – is gone.
Trifextra this week asked as to write a full story in three sentences. Well, two of my sentences are bursting at the seams, but they are there, all three of them, nonetheless.
Have a nice weekend.
Her arms slithered around my waist, slowly; seductively caressing down, down my legs and up again. Continue reading
Mrs Pry tsked to herself; that dress had been up there all week. She had assumed at first that it must be some sort of Halloween decoration, but that apartment was still uninhabited. Mrs Pry curled her lips and let the curtain fall, mumbling and grumbling to herself all the way to bed.
Mrs Pry was deep asleep when clouds parted and revealed the full circular moon. And she was snoring loudly when the dress shifted, and floated up, making a bee-line across the city to where a pair of trousers and a shirt waited, ready for a dance.
For Friday Fictioneers; I loved the picture this week, so enthralling, but I keep thinking I’ve seen it somewhere, maybe on TV. Oh well! Hope you liked the story.
Her scent was everywhere and, standing in the exact centre of her room, Jasper was in the middle of it; inhaling it, savouring it, willing to drown in it. He sunk on her bed and turned among the sheets, smiling at the crisp, crunchy sound the cotton made as he eased his arms and legs about the bed, cooling his skin against the cold, smooth surface. Continue reading