Five Sentence Fiction - Ache

This weeks photo for Five Sentence Fiction spoke to be immediately, the prompt word giving me direction.

 

She leans forward against the window in the airport lounge and cranes to see their little bodies as they step out onto the aeroplane stairs; her eager breath creating a mist round the shape of her hands on the window. She hasn’t seen them in so long she can barely remember what their little faces look like, and wonder how tall they’ve grown.

Led by their chaperone, they run down the steps onto the tarmac into the tiny airport, their eyes wide taking in their strange new surroundings, while searching round desperate to spot the mother they haven’t seen in months

As soon as they’re allowed they rush through security and fling themselves into her arms, crowding her with kisses and clinging to her with no intention of letting go.

She embraces them, squeezing them tight in the hope that it will finally expel the ache she’s carried in her soul since the day she had to leave them. 

Last Supper - MWBB

I skipped a week on the Mid-Week Blues-Buster, because I couldn't get the song prompt to work for me the week before last - in fact I struggled to listen to the song. But last week's was quite sublime and I really liked it, despite the male lead singer's dodgy look and not great voice. It inspired my darker side, and it earnt me a third place.

The prompt song this week was:

  Lacuna - End of Time

He’d called her earlier in the day to confirm the time he was coming home. She couldn’t wait; the house was immaculate, and the dining room all laid out. She’d even polished the silver candelabra.

As dusk approached she prepared the food. He liked it meaty, he liked lots of it, so she had gone beyond her usual expertise, but it worked as she set the dishes.

Then she got herself ready, slipping into a comfortable and sexy black dress. She knew he’d like it. She smiled. It was perfect; he wouldn’t know what hit him. She giggled. No, he wouldn’t, but that was how she wanted it.

She heard his car and glided down the ornate staircase, hovering on the bottom step as she heard his footsteps on the gravel path. He opened the door and paused when he saw her. His greeting caught in his throat as his eyes swept over her.

“Avril, you look…amazing.”

“Thank you Paul.”

He shut the door behind him and put his brief case down. She could see a question forming in his eyes.

“You want to ask me why, don’t you?”

He stammered as he replied, “Well yes, I do, I…is there a reason?”

Avril smiled at him. “We’ll get to that later, first I want you to enjoy it all.”

She saw the crease flutter across his temple, but he remained silent while she led him to the dining room. When he saw the presentation of their meal he stood in the doorway blinking, and let out a slight laugh.

“Come closer, take a look at what I’ve prepared.”

“You’ve prepared? You mean this wasn’t catered?” Paul stumbled forward, peeking under the lids of the huge tureens. It looked divine.

He sat down at the head of the table, and Avril sat at his side. She wanted to be close to him and share the intimacy of the moment.

He watched her serve him, laughing as she piled all the food on to his plate, relaxing a little as she piled it on her own too. He watched her tuck in first before starting in on his, and they sat gorging themselves on all the meaty delights.

Then she brought over a bottle of red wine she’d opened earlier. She poured a healthy quantity into both of their wine glasses, laughing as he raised his and took several swallows from it.

Then his demure changed, the smile sliding from his lips.

“There’s something in this, isn’t there?”

She nodded while she sipped at hers.

“But you’ve got the same, haven’t you?”

She nodded again and gave a small smile as she said, “I’m not about to let you go out alone. We started out together and we’ll end together.”

His eyes flashed with fear and rage as he regarded the glass, and threw the contents across the room.

“I knew this was too good to be true! You haven’t done anything like this for me in years.”

“You haven’t wanted me to; you’ve had ‘her’ to do it for you.”

His rage dropped, but the fear remained. He swallowed. “You mean, Larissa?”

“Yes dear, Larissa. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I would be okay with it continuing under my nose?”

“What have you done?” He whispered.

Avril waved her arm at the table in front of them. “I decided to celebrate with a meal; a last supper if you will, while the poison does its work.

Paul could feel his legs tingling. “But I haven’t drunk enough.”

“It wasn’t just in the wine dear.” Sweat beads were breaking out on Avril’s forehead and she dabbed them with a napkin.

“The meat?” Paul’s mouth felt strange, the edges had started twitching.

“Yes, I marinated her well, Paul.”

Paul managed to whisper, “Her?” as he started to slide down the chair.

Avril was also struggling. Her glass dropped from her hand as her arm went limp, but she managed a giggled, and said, “Yes, Larissa. She had more meat on her than I thought. She tasted pretty good too, don’t you think?”

The frozen look of horror completed it for her as she grinned her way into death. 

Daily Picspiration - Time and Motion Part 3

The third part in my Daily Picspiration piece was posted up yesterday.

It took a while for me to sort out what was going to be the next stop for this story. I didn't want to cross into famous story lines from films like The Matrix or the TV series Sliders. I wanted to try and find a unique approach. I had to write down a list on the concepts for this story I wanted to keep intrigue and build the story line - not just have it be about a couple of characters and their experiences in another reality. It took some doing, and although I am again stumped for the next part, I have a clearer idea what it is about, so I will be able to thrash something out. Not sure how much longer I can maintain it though.

 You can read 'Time and Motion - Part 3' here.

Visual Dare - Silhouette

It's been a while since I've written anything for Visual Dare, although it stopped for a while over the Christmas period and has only been up and running again for a couple of weeks on a new website. This week's intriguing photo inspired me, and this is what I wrote.

They’d been captured at last, and humans were elated. The enchanted, who lived in secrecy and keep their world separate, despised the cages they were now kept in, and even worse the insistence of performing on demand. Their tender ways had been disrupted and their art of keeping magic in the world was starting to fade.

People didn’t see what was happening, they were too busy being amused by these ‘little people’ with their funny ways; laughing at them, parading them around and making money off them.

They didn’t see how the sparkle of enchantment was disappearing, how their own children wanted material things and wanted them now. They were no longer pacified by fairy tales or enraptured by the idea of magic. They wanted whatever they saw, to use it at their will, dispense of it in a matter of moments and move onto the next things.  

148 Words

 

Five Sentence Fiction - Frozen

This weeks Five Sentence Fiction was open to looks of ideas. This is where it took me.

Alice shivered as she sat on the ice waiting for rescue. The robin that had landed nearby kept her in check as it hammered on the ice, trying to find anything worth eating.

Her soaked clothing was beginning to harden in the bitter wind as she watched the bird and envied the warmth of its feathers; noticing her own hands had taken on a blue hue.

Alice wondered how it survived out here, but considered that if it too had fallen into the water it might also be struggling for life.

She heard the helicopter as tiredness began to crawl into her mind, and she resisted the urge to close her eyes and rest as the shaking in her body started to slow down. 

Healing - MWBB

The song from last weeks Mid-Week Blues-Buster I enjoyed thoroughly, but finding a story was hard. I do like what I wrote, but it didn't have a special kicker with it, so didn't really get noticed amongst all the other entries, which were so good.

The prompt song this week was:

Nil Lara - How was I to Know?

She walked out onto the balcony, leaving the raucous noise of the party behind her, and leaned out, looking along the beach. She spotted him some distance away sitting on top of a dune.

She kicked off her shoes and made her way to him, digging her feet hard into the sand to reach the top of the dune, plonking herself down beside him once she got there. He sat looking out to sea, arms hanging loosely over the top of his pulled up knees, a bottle of beer still in one hand.

He glanced at her and smiled.

She asked, “You okay? Not up to partying?”

“Nah, not really.”

He proffered the bottle and she took a swig, following his gaze out to sea.

“I’m sorry Meg, I shouldn’t have come.”

“On the contrary Gerry, I’m glad you did. I wanted you here.”

He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling in the dying light. “Did you now?”

“Yeah, it’s been too long since you came to one of my shindigs; they’re not the same without you.”

“I’m getting too old for this kind of partying.”

Meg laughed out loud and he joined her.

“Old? You don’t know what old is yet boy. You’re still a babe in arms!”

He grinned taking another swig from the bottle. “You’re not THAT much old than me.”

She grinned back at him. “I know.” Then she put a hand on his arm. “I know you’re hearts heavy right now.” His smile faltered. “But you’ve turned down all my offers of a one on one meet ups, so I thought maybe in a crowd you’d feel safer.”

A frown creased his brow. “You know me too well.”

“Yeah I do. And sometimes that ain’t good for either of us.” She took the bottle from him and swallowed a mouthful hoping that it would keep her buzz going and she wouldn’t say anything she’d regret. She refused to make eye contact, instead looking out at the horizon, waiting for him to speak.

He sighed. “I feel stupid. I thought she was the one. We even got married. And when it started to derail I thought I could get it back on track, but she wasn’t interested. I tried everything. I kept hoping, you know?”

Meg nodded. “Been there done that, as you well know.”

“Brad?”

“Yep.”

He nodded.

“So what do I do now?”

“Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep on moving forward.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“You’ve got to let her go Gerry. She’s gone, and she ain’t coming back.”

“But…”

“There are no buts sweetie, it’s out of your hands.”

“So I failed.”

“You can’t look at it like that. Society wants us to, but sometimes relationships don’t work out and that’s okay – as long as you tried, you didn’t fail. You had your time together, remember it fondly, but accept that it’s over. Be sad, grieve for it even, but then move on, and remember that there is still life out there, a life you can be a part of.”

He held her gaze, giving her a small smile. “Wise words.”

“Yeah, and they took me a long time to learn, I promise you!”

His smile grew to a grin. “Is that what getting old brings then?”

Meg laughed. “Absolutely.” She waggled the bottle. “This is empty. Come on, come back to the party. It’s no fun without you.”

His eyes sparkled at her again, and she ignored the flutter in her stomach. He stood up and dusted the sand off his shorts, reaching out a hand, to help her stand up too. As they walked back to the house he put his arm round her and pulled her into him, kissing the top of her head. “Thanks. I needed that.” She put her arm round his waist, and said, “Anytime.”

They walked in silence, until the sounds from the house greeted them. Then Meg looked up at Gerry and said, “And now it’s time to get you drunk.”

He threw back his head laughing, and said, “Definitely.”  

Five Sentence Fiction - Clutch

Another great photo for the Five Sentence Fiction prompt this week. I had to write for it.

The nightmare was over, he was home, and the transformation was complete as she threw herself into his arms. 

The little boy was so relieved, he clutched at his father’s legs hoping he would never leave again. 

He barely knew this man, but he knew that his mother had stopped shouting at him since the letter had arrived about his homecoming. And he knew he’d been allowed his tea every night since. And he hoped it meant he’d never see the inside of the trunk under the stairs again.