This, in case you somehow missed the title of the post, is 5MinuteFiction. You have been assimilated.
And welcome to 5MinuteFiction. That means we write fiction. In five minutes. Shocker, I know.
The Rules
* You get five minutes to write a piece of prose in any style or genre
* You must directly reference today’s prompt: preview
I’ll close the contest at 1:45. That gives you 5 minutes to write and ten to accommodate the vagaries of relative time, technology, and the fickle internets. If you are confused or just want to whine, feel free to email me.
At the close of the contest, this week’s guest judge, Richard Wood, @rbwood, will nominate five finalists. I’ll put the nominees in the poll on the side of the page, and at 9:30 PM EDT I’ll close the poll and declare the winner.
(NOTE: Richard’s looking for a few good writers to get together and do… well, I don’t like to talk about that kind of thing in public. But it will be recorded and put on his podcast. If you’re brave you might try contacting him through Twitter, @rbwood, or emailing him.)
For updates, you can subscribe to my RSS Feed, or follow me on twitter.
What’s the prize? Well, nothing, obviously. But we’ll all agree to tweet and/or blog about the winner of today’s contest so their fame and fortune will be assured.
A Few Notes:
* In the interest of time and formatting, it’s best to type straight into the comment box. It’s also smart to do a quick highlight and copy before you hit “post” just in case the internets decide to eat your entry. If your entry doesn’t appear right away, email me sometimes comments go into the suspected spam folder and I have to dig them out.
* I reserve the right to remove hate speech or similar but I’m not too picky about the other stuff.
* This is all for fun and self-promotion. So be sure to put your twitter handle at the end of your post and a link to your blog if you have one.
“Would you like to preview my work?” she asked.
“Nooo,” he said, considering, “I like what I see, and I’ve heard good things…”
“Well, this business is all about referrals,” she purred, “otherwise I’d be selling myself on the street with the other girls and not here in this fine place with an attractive man like you.”
“Well, if you live up to your reputation I could bring myself to refer a few customers your way. Discretely, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, moving closer. “I’d appreciate that. Even pretty girls have bills to pay.”
He chuckled, his voice deepening, getting husky.
“Well, shall we get started?”
“Whatever you want,” she said, her lithe, young body catching his eye as she moved toward the small bag she carried with her and began to remove her specialized tools of the trade.
“Where do you want me?” he asked.
“Over by the window,” she said, “the light’s best over there.”
He grinned salaciously. She settled herself and her things into position.
“So,” she said, “who is this painting for?”
She stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down at Hell. It wasn’t quite what she’d learned in Sunday School. There was fire, yes, but it wasn’t hot. No, the green flames that popped up every now and then in the abyss was ice cold.
“This is what awaits you…” whispered a silky smooth voice from behind her. She whirled around, coming face to face with a handsome young man, dark hair reaching his jawline. A cold smirk curled his lips, pale eyes watching her with a chilling look of amusement.
“No, I’m a good person!” she gasped, unable to back away as he moved forward. When he reached his hand out to cup her cheek, she shrieked; it hurt, terribly, agony filling her body at the simple caress.
“Yes, but it does not matter. You were mine from the day you were born, before, when your parents made a deal with me to have you. You are mine, Christina, and this will be your home for eternity. I will sincerely enjoy tormenting your soul…” The cold smile grew as he bent closer, pressing his lips to hers. Once more, agony filled her and-
Christina sat up with a shriek in her own bedroom, panting. Whether nightmare or true preview of what was to come, it still made her break down in sobs of terror.
@JulesCarey
“You an always tell how a man will be to his wife, by the way he treats his mother.” She was going on and on about him again. Mother always regretted marrying my father. “I should’ve seen it. It was like a preview into my life!” She’d go on and on after a few drinks or after I came home from a date. But this time, I hadn’t been anywhere, and she hadn’t been drinking.
“What brought this on?” I asked, sitting down at the kitchen table in our little two bedroom trailer. My mother took a drag from her cigarette and looked at me through the exhaled smoke.
“This came for you today.” She slid a long white envelope across the old card table to me. I picked it up and turned it over a few times. It looked official. Bender & Mortenson was written on the return address label followed by an address in Memphis, Tennessee.
“What the hell is it?” I asked looking skeptical that my mother didn’t already know, which of course, she pretended she didn’t. I opened it and found a letter from an attorney. It was long and I didn’t have the patience or the education to read it all. I think my father had left me some money. Lots of money!
“So,” mom took another drag, “what is it?”
I tried not to look surprised while stuffing the letter back inside the envelope. I stood and started toward my room.
“Nothing. Seems the old guy died and left me some debt,” I lied. There was no way the old hag was gonna get her hands on my money.
I left around midnight, headed toward Memphis. I caught rides from truckers most of the way. I never saw her again.
Waiting in the wings, out of sight, I take a deep breath, hold it and exhale slowly.
“Only a preview” I tell myself, but no performance is every “only” anthing.
An audience is an audience, people whose opinion count.
Will they like it? Will they understand it? Or will it be the worst response, polite applause.
Breathe in and out, flex and peel my right foot from the floor, heel to toe, rolling over the toes and pushing down on the tops of them against the wood boards, testing their strength, my strength.
Stubb toes, one, two, three, roll my foot back to the ground.
Repeat with the left.
Deep plie in parallel straighten to a rise on demi pointe, test my balance on one leg.
The last ritual in my day of ritual preparation
I hold myself high and still, hovering in the pause before the curtain will rise and the music start.
This elusive place between rehersal and performance.
The moment that I change from dancer to performer.
Placing both feet firmly on the floor I smile to myself, nod and shake out my legs.
I am ready.
Are they?
@summerlandc
oops that should be @summerlandc
In two minutes, an entire story arc presented itself complete with all the explosions, one-liners and romance you could ever want from a movie.
Mr. Thornburg eased back in his chair puffing at a cigar, “Mighty impressive boys, but what’s left of the movie? You gave it all away in the trailer.”
Josh and Bobby Mead eye each other uneasily. Finally Bobby speaks up, “We don’t quite get your meaning, sir.”
“The trailer,” Thornburg lumbers out of his chair, “It’s like I already watched the movie.”
“This isn’t the trailer,” Josh Mead said, “It really is the first two minutes of the movie. This is just a preview. It goes on like this for another eighty-eight minutes.”
Mr. Thornburg’s eyebrows shoot up, “Ninety minutes of cuts to explosions, sex-scenes and one-liners?”
The Mead brothers nod with hesitancy.
“Brilliant!”
@briefconceits
I glanced down into the blue light. I could make out an image, maybe a person, but I was too scared to really focus. I looked back at Tommy.
“Are you sure it’s real?”
“Hell, yeah,” he said, grabbing the rock from my hands. “If you’re too chicken shit to look in it, I’ll give someone else a turn. You can have your five bucks back.”
“But where did you get it?”
“I told you, I found it, that’s all you need to know.” He hopped back onto his bike, the rock under his arm. “You want to find out or not?”
Shit.
“Okay,” I said.
Tommy smiled that devilish little grin of his and hopped back onto the grass.
“All right. Now just look in it until you see the picture. It will be there and it will tell you your destiny. Your best moment. The highlight of your life.”
“How do I know it’ll come true?”
“You’re such a chicken shit. Walt Greaney saw a bank vault and you know he’s a genius with money. And Sara Tomlinson saw herself at a beauty pageant – Miss damned America! It’s totally psychic, man. Just look!”
He stuck the rock out at me. I took it, sat down, cross-legged, and looked at the surface.
The blue light slowly grew and I could see an image. It was a person, definitely a person. It was me. I could tell it was me, but I looked so old, so bald and pudgy. I was holding a bowling trophy.
I threw the rock as hard as I could.
“Do you ave zee money?” she asked.
He nodded like a greedy child and climbed onto the bed.
Lying back on the pillows, Derek laced his fingers together behind his head and let out a tickled-pink sigh. His eyes followed the woman as she placed her bag on the dresser and tuned the radio. As the music played, her hips began to sway, tantalizing motion which caused a tightness in his groin. Her hands played up her inner thighs, caressing the fabric of her black satin dress. When she turned around, he her bottom winked at him, first the left cheek and then the right.
Moving in tune to the beat, she danced slowly for him, teasing her nipples through the thin layer of cloth. Her fingers seduced the buttons through the eyelets and gradually exposed her exquisite, pale skin to him. The black dressed shimmered like onyx and he wondered what the cool fabric would feel like pressed against the length of him.
He groaned and adjusted his erection, moving it against his stomach and under the waistband of his boxers. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, and he wondered what she would taste like. Heaven, he imagined.
The dressed slipped off her curvaceous form, pudding at her feet. She stepped away from it, kicking it up onto the bed. It caressed his legs and sent a shiver through him. She knew what she was doing, he could see her play with him. A ferocious cat toying with her dinner before devouring it.
She wore black garters and nylons, they were the ones with the long seam running up the back of her legs. And the corset binding her breasts, pushed her cleavage nearly up to her neck. He wanted to shove his face in them, bury them in her soft, milky flesh.
A sinful smirk twisted her red lips and her perfect white teeth were revealed. Her black hair bobbed around her face and Derek thought of Uma Thurman from Pulp Fiction. Suddenly, a flash of metal caught his eye, distracting him away from his fantasy. Her hand played on her thigh, where her garter met her stocking.
Another flash as she raised something up to show him. He didn’t believe his eyes. But the deafening bang confirmed his sight. And the bullet took his life even before his erection could die.
The last thing he heard was her voice tainted with a Russian accent.
“Vas it good fer you, because it vas vonderful for me.”
@TL_Tyson
My stomach lifted in my belly and dropped again within seconds, ‘breakfast might make a re-appearance’ I warned my travelling companion as I closed my eyes and grasped the arm rests breathing deeply. I’ve never liked turbulence, but this was the worst I’d experienced.
Once I felt my heart rate return to a speed that didn’t frighten me anymore I looked out the small window at the earth below, I imagined the sensation of the mass of metal I was flying in plummeting to the ground, the sound of the screams of my fellow passengers piercing my ears and the cliché of my life flashing before my eyes – I know that doesn’t happen by the way.
‘Am I good with my life? Am I good with everyone in it? Is there anything left unsaid?, Is there anything left that feels undone?’ I calmly wondered, the answers all led me to believe that I was ‘good to go’, there’s nothing unfinished, there’s nothing I’d do or be differently.
With the preview of my transition complete I straightened my back, opened my eyes to see fully, my ears to hear clearly, my heart to feel it all ~ I’m ready.
@WarriorAlcyone
Just a little peek, that was all I asked for, so why the hell were my ears ringing like the bells of Notre Dame? I rubbed the left one, trying to restore my senses. All the while Gabby continued to rant and rave, blessedly muted by the ringing.
“You’re going to curse us, Leon! The ceiling of the church will fall in. Your mother will break her ankle. I’ll have hideous hair. Something will go horribly wrong if I let you see me in the dress beforehand.” Her shrill voice cut through the ringing. He wished it hadn’t.
“First, the church was restored only last year. That was why we chose it.” Leon stepped in and cupped her damp cheek in his hand, carefully thumbing away a tear. “Second, my mother is Athena. When have you heard of a goddess accidentally snapping any bone on their body?”
“But the curse…” Gabby insisted, gnawing at the subject like a cat with a mouse.
“Bullshit superstitions, baby. Half the Greek pantheon will be there to see us happily wed. They won’t let anything happen.” He kissed her trembling lips. ” I promise.”
Gabby pulled back and searched his face for signs that he was lying. He gave her a smile, the same smile he’d given her the night they met. The one that said he knew everything was going to work out to their favor. It was a gift of being a demi-god. With his powers he was rarely surprised.
“Alright,” she said finally. “One little peek.”
@RCMurphy
Nicholas couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than curling up on his couch in his lover’s arms, listening to him read his favorite stories in a voice like rich chocolate. Nothing sexier than a deep husky voice, like whiskey and cigarettes with a hint of pleasure. He sighed and went back to sweeping. It was a wonderful thought, but he lacked one crucial ingredient . . . a lover.
He checked the clock one last time. Five more minutes and he could get away with early closing. Not that he had anywhere to go, the deep quiet of the empty store was a preview of his lonely night to come.
When the bell rang to signal a customer he groaned out loud. Now he’d certainly be stuck here late.
“Excuse me.”
The sexy growl had Nicholas whipping around to see who owned such an arousing voice. “Can I help you?”
“I was looking for the . . . adult reading section. Could you show me where to look?”
He quickly headed toward the back of the store, not wanting this man to see his sudden arousal. “Right over here. Is there anything else?”
“Well, my tastes are kind of specific. Do you have any male romance?”
“Written for men?”
“No, about men.”
Nicholas allowed himself a small smile, perhaps this evening wouldn’t turn out to be so lonely after all. “Right this way, I’m sure I can find something you’ll be interested in.”
Jake’s finger traced the bottom of my lip and I darted out my tongue to taste him. Sweet from the whipped cream, salty from his flesh. A shiver ran down my spine in anticipation. A satisfied grin curled the edges of his mouth and he sucked the cream off his own finger, his eyes locked onto mine.
I grabbed the pockets of his jeans and pulled him toward me, a moan escaping from my throat. He shook his head slowly as if to say ‘not yet, this is just a preview of what’s to come.’
Heat swirled between my thighs and I suddenly didn’t give a damn about the foreplay anymore. I needed him in me and I needed it now. I knocked the bowl of whipped cream to the floor and pressed him back against the kitchen table, devouring him with my kiss.
@cynditefft
Practice Makes Perfect
“What are you doing?” Her lips tickled my ear even as her fingers traced the hollow of my spine. I shivered, tamping down the urge to turn from my work.
“A test run,” I murmured, continuing to stir, watching the surface of the chocolate.
“A test run, mmhmm, of what?” She fit against me, just so, arm sliding around my waist, her mouth deliver a warm puff of air against the sensitive spot behind my ear.
I swallowed a whimper. “Of my new recipe,” I managed to say, eyes drifting shut, struggling for focus as her fingers slid, cool and soft, against the warm skin of my stomach.
“Ooooh.” This time her lips vibrated against the slope of my neck and I groaned, my free hand sliding down over the curve of her hip, complicit in my distraction as I tugged her closer. “We get a sneak peek, do we?”
“Yes,” I whispered, turning my head to capture her lips in a slow, thorough kiss. The scent of chocolate twirled around us, her moans slipped from her mouth to mine and I fed upon them, my own private ambrosia. We parted and I smiled at her flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
“So when’s the preview,” she teased and I cursed roundly, turning to my fudge, groaning as I turned it off and poured it into the waiting pan. “Sorry,” she whispered, slipping her arms around me again. “I’ll make it up to you.”
I growled and turned to lift her up, my frustration tumbling into a laugh as she wrapped her legs shamelessly around me. “You definitely will. And I’ll just have to try again later.”
@AislingWeaver
I really need to reread before I click submit
:-/
Crikey… I _always_ forget… it’s @WarriorAlcyone on Twitter 🙂
Parental Discretion Advised.
“““““““““““““““““““
Rolling over on her right to light a cigarette, “Every time my husband comes home from work, he’s ripping my panties off and eating my pussy. It’s like an obsession with him. He’s a terrible fuck, but he does that right.”
“Blowing out his own smoke and rubbing his naked balls, “Is that right, babe? Shit, a pussy who likes to eat pussy. At least he likes to. Almost feel bad now fucking his wife. No, on second thought, fuck him.”
“Haha, funny. Okay, I gotta’ get cleaned up and get back home before he gets there. Thursday?”
Grabbing her arm, leaving red indents around his tight grip, “Tell you what you’re gonna do, Sugar. You’re not washing that pussy out. You’re gonna’ go straight home. I want him going down on you and I want you to let him. I want you knowing whose cum is up there and whose pussy this really is.”
“You’re a sick fuck, you know that?” God, son-of-a-bitch turns me on! “Bye!”
“I’ll know if you’re lying, dammit! I can read you like a movie preview. Don’t come back here unless you do.”
Son-of-a-bitch would know, too.
Thursday
“Did you do what I told you, babe?”
“Yeah.”
“What’d he say?”
“He said, ‘Mmm, you taste tangy. Did you work out at the gym again today?’”
With one hand patting her head like a dog, and forcing it toward his exposed crotch with the other, “Good girl, good girl.That’s my Sugar.”
@shanearthur
“And that’s just a preview…”
Her lips slid off my index finger with a smack. At that moment, I would have walked across burning coals for her. Swam the English Channel in the dead of winter for her.
Killed for her.
Unfortunately, that was exactly what she had in mind.
Her warm, honey tinged breath enveloped my ear, but all I could focus on was how her soft breasts felt pressed up against the bare skin of my arm.
“You’re going to go to this address,” she said, and her taut body moved against mine while a small piece of paper was pressed into my hand.
“You’re going to tell the babysitter that you’re an old friend dropping in for a visit. I don’t care how you convince her, just make up a story.”
Her hand moved to the small of my back, tracing an intricate scribble that activated every single last nerve ending on my body.
“Find his guns. He keeps them in a cupboard at the very top of his closet. Get out the .22 hollow point pistol.”
She took my hand and moved it between her legs. She moaned and pressed into my palm, shuddering under my touch.
“Wait in the closet. He will open the door first to hang up his coat. Kill him the second you see him. Then leave the wife, leave the kids. Let no one else know you were there.”
And just like that, she was gone. Left me in an aroused pile of mush on the rusty park bench where she had scheduled our rendezvous.
This was madness. I had never killed anyone before. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist. I was addicted, drunk on the idea of her.
She owned me, in every sense of the word.
Jeff Pfaller
@pfallerj
The Lesson
“Ma, what’s this mean?”
“Don’t bother me, boy. Cain’t ya see I’m busy?”
“It’s jus’ a word, Ma. Dunno what it means.” Ma was the only other one who could read, and not so good at that, but she wuz better’n me.
“Didja sound it out like I tole ya?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Didja put it in context?” Well, now that was the whole conundrum, warn’t it? If’n I didn’t ken what it was, how’em I supposed to ‘put it in context’?
“Didn’t think so. Don’t bother me if ya ain’t gonna work it through fer as it’ll go. When ya gets to the end of that shaft, then we’ll talk.” Ma went back to wringing out my brother Danny’s workclothes. They wuz filthy from coal dust ‘n Ma spent a tolerable long time making’em right but it seemed hopeless to me. To her too I reckon, but she’s a Ma so I guess hopeless ‘n pathetic kinda went with the territory.
‘Pathetic’ been yesterday’s word. “Lucille, yore a ‘pathetic’ excuse fer a daughter, what with yore whorin’ ways …” It’d gone on for a few more interestin’ tidbits but I already know’d most of those good parts anyways.
“Hand over the lye soap, boy.” Ma held out her hand and I obliged, but I sidled real close, the magazine held close to my chest, hoping she’d take pity. I wuz feeling a strange need and had nowhere’s to put it right then.
“All right, dammit. What’s the word?” She glared at me with righteous indignation.
I stammered, “Pr-pre-preview.”
“Didja open the rag up, ya numnuts?”
I gulped and spread it on the table, the pages falling open with the little tab thingees keeping it apart. The image leaped off the page and I felt that strange thing even harder now.
The girl with the fairy curls from the cover sprang out ‘n all t’other writin’ vanished like smoke on a windy day ‘n I held ma breath for a lifetime, drinking in her beauty. I pressed the button and the image shifted and splayed along the page, then whorled and danced in a peach dream.
Ma looked me over, kinda sly, like she knew my mind, and that was the last thing I wanted right then.
I watched the vision reach toward me, eyes closed, her sweet tongue …
“Well?”
“Fuck me,” was all I could manage.
“Exactly.”
@Diane_Nelson
Etzer Ferra watched the Consolidated freighter pull back from the dock moorings and cursed aloud.
“Fraggin’ Congloms,” he spat. “Goddamn pirates.”
“Skipper?” Navigator Celi Davis queried from her console.
“Undercut, underbid to take a loss on shipments and drive us free traders out of busines. Osloo and his crew? Bankrupted. Couldn’t get a single job in two months. Mason? Bullied out of Capella System entirely. And here we fucking sit. Twice that cows speed, and dry as a bone.
“But they-”
“They _cheated_ Celi. That pig of theirs can’t make our efficency. But they’ve got the slick brochure and the fast talker, and the deep pockets, and I have an engineer’s mate who can be goaded into a brawl for a fine and a black mark on my ship.”
The Navigator looked down at her console. She knew exactly what Captain Ferra was feeling. The frustration – and threat to the dream of honest living among the stars – gnawed at her.
“Well there’s not much we can do this time, is there, Captain?”
“And all the other times. Bah! And look at that cocky idiot! He’s squeezing by at practically 200 meters in the red. If we weren’t stationkeeping… Celi?
“Skipper?”
“What if we nulled stationkeeping for a minute”
She ran a projection with one hand, took a look at the preview, and turned to him with level gaze.
“He’d plow his nav array right into our aft rad shield.”
Etzer sat stone still for a moment, staring at nothing.
“Mort!”
“Yeah, Cap’n?”
“How’s the dhield for low velocity impacts?”
The engineer had been listening. He smiled like a wolf.
“Against a nav array at maneuver speed? Feather versus rock.”
“…Celi. Null stationkeeping.”
The Navigator did not hesitate. Aye, Sir”
Ferra thumbed the ship’s PA.
“All hands, brace for impact, 30 seconds!”
Snapping off the the PA, he called over to Nava on communications.
“Hail the dock and tell them we have a power failure. Warn everybody away.”
“Consolidated 2-oh-2 is not going to be able to respond in time, Sir,” Nava reported back.
“Yeah. Well, them’s the breaks. We’ll offer to take their load for them while they’re down for repairs.”
“Offer, sir?” Engineer Mort asked.
“Not like they’ll have much of a choice.”
“Um, Captain?”
“Yes, Nava?”
“You called the Conglomerate pirates, earlier. Is this any better than that?”
“It depends who’s plate is empty, doesn’t it. You have a problem?”
“…No, Sir.”
He could she wasn’t sure, though. Etzer thought a talk, or a new comm officer, was going to be needed very soon.
“I’ll show them Pirates,” he said to himself, as the grinding sound of kissing freighter hulls echoed through the ship.
_@Monocle_
“Keep them wanting more, darling!” the older woman walked briskly after her daughter. “You must keep them wanting more!”
Kathy rolled her eyes and kept walking towards her apartment. “Does it matter if they want more of me if I want nothing from them, mother?”
Her mother gasped in shock. “Of course, you want more from them! They are filthy rich! Why, it’s a sin for them to have so much money and not share it with you!”
Kathy unlocked her apartment wondering, again, why on earth did she agree to go to that speed dating thing her mother suggested she attend?
No, not suggest. That’s way to much of an understatement.
“Mom, they were all so boring and spiritless. They had nothing I wanted.”
“You told me you thought Robert was a little interesting.”
Kathy shook her head. “Yes, he was. When he walked away.”
Her mother sighed once she sat down and Kathy gave her a cup of tea. “Darling, speed dating is nothing but a preview of what is yet to come. ”
“If what’s coming for me is a life full of nothing, then I’ll pass.”
“You said Robert showed you his check book! I think that’s a good preview for the future and that things are looking up!”
“Mother!” Kathy shook her head, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Mother, that’s not what I want. I can take care of myself.”
“But what about me? What about what I want for you?”
Kathy sighed heavily. “You want me married to a rich doctor or lawyer because of what it could mean for you. You don’t care at all about how I’d feel. No thank you! You want Robert so badly?” Kathy gave her mother a small business card from her purse. “Here. Call him and see if he’s interested in cougars.”
Kathy was hoping this would offend her mother. Perhaps make her feel the need to take her tea elsewhere. Instead, her mother looked thoughtfully at the business card extended to her. “Well…I didn’t get the marriage thing right the first two times…three times the charm?”
“Mother!”
Before Kathy could snatch the business card back, her mother had grabbed it, looking at it as though it had the source to life. Perhaps to mother, it did.
“Well, if you don’t like him as a husband,” her mother stood and headed for the telephone, “perhaps you got a nice preview of how he’d be as a stepfather.”
@shells2003
We hurried into the crowded theater, stumbling our way down the tiny aisle to find two open seats adjacent to each other. The only two left were in the front row.
“Great,” Jake said, “now I’m gonna have a neck ache.”
I pointed to the empty seats and motioned Jake to sit next to me. He collapsed with a huff.
As I shrugged off my jacket, he hissed in my ear. “I told you we were going to be late.”
I stuck out my tongue, my eyes fixed on the preview of the next great romcom.
“Ugh, I am not seeing that movie. If I never see another Jen Anniston movie, it’ll be too soon.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed a handful of popcorn, savoring the buttery morsels in my mouth.
“Hey, thanks for spilling greasy popcorn all over my new pants.” He wiped a stray kernel from his pants while glaring at me.
I looked at Jake, really looked at him for the first time in ages. His hunched, menacing posture. His narrow brown eyes. The way his fingers twitched constantly and the never-ending complaints spilling from his mouth.
As I stood, I smacked the bag of popcorn from his hands, covering Jake’s lap with greasy popcorn and marched to the exit of the darkened theater.
It’s amazing how enlightening a darkened theater can be.
Twitter: @saraheolson
http://saraheolson.com
And I forgot the prompt. HAHAHA. So off my game. 🙁
Oh duh….@shells2003
Crikey I forgot it’s @Diane_Nelson
Well that’s it my sweets. All over for another week. Feel better? 😉
This one was fun, probably because, as usual, I went with stupid rather than serious. Well, no one’s perfect.
I’m already loving what I’ve read so far, can’t wait to get to the rest of them.
Congratulations everyone just for managing to do this. You rock.
See you at 3:00 with the finalists!
Oh, and I’ve updated your posts with forgotten twitter handles.
This is what it was supposed to read. But I withdrawl due to stupidity over not using the prompt word. Bleck:
“Do you ave zee money?” she asked.
He nodded like a greedy child and climbed onto the bed.
Lying back on the pillows, Derek laced his fingers together behind his head and let out a tickled-pink sigh. His eyes followed the woman as she placed her bag on the dresser and tuned the radio. As the music played, her hips began to sway, a tantalizing motion which caused a tightness in his groin. Her hands played up her inner thighs, caressing the fabric of her black satin dress. When she turned around, her bottom winked at him, first the left cheek and then the right.
Moving in tune to the beat, she danced slowly for him, teasing her nipples through the thin layer of cloth. Her fingers seduced the buttons through the eyelets and gradually exposed her exquisite, pale skin to him. The black dressed shimmered like onyx and he wondered what the cool fabric would feel like pressed against the length of him.
He groaned and adjusted his erection, moving it against his stomach and under the waistband of his boxers. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, and he wondered what she would taste like. Heaven, he imagined.
The dressed slipped off her curvaceous form, pooling at her feet. She stepped away from it, kicking it up onto the bed. It caressed his legs and sent a shiver through him. She knew what she was doing; he watched her play with him—a ferocious cat toying with her dinner before devouring it.
She wore black garters and nylons, they were the ones with the long seam running up the back of her legs. And the corset binding her breasts pushed her cleavage nearly up to her neck. He wanted to shove his face in them, bury them in her soft, milky flesh.
A sinful smirk twisted her red lips and her perfect white teeth were revealed. Her black hair bobbed around her face and Derek thought of Uma Thurman from Pulp Fiction. Suddenly, a flash of metal caught his eye, distracting him away from his fantasy. Her hand played on her thigh, where her garter met her stocking.
Another flash as she raised something up to show him. He didn’t believe his eyes. But the deafening bang confirmed his sight. And the bullet took his life even before his erection could die.
The last thing he heard was her voice tainted with a Russian accent.
“Vas it good fer you, because it vas vonderful for me.”
I’ve tried to submit my post three times but it’s still not on the site?! Help.
Gotcha, Sarah. You’d gone into the spam folder. Your post will count because it was in on time, I just didn’t catch it fast enough.
Some super talented people here!
Write on, folks!
All right folks! My turn now.
MWAHAHAHA…oh wait. There are a LOT of great posts.
Fuck.
xoxo
r
“I’m gonna do what?” he laughed. “There’s no way. Nobody can be that stupid, can they?”
“It’ll feel different when you’re there. You’ll want to. Or–well, that will be the choice you make out of what’s offered. Fair shakes are rare down there.”
“Man. I don’t remember anything like that from last time. Or the time before, or, well, you know. Life was different, then, you know?”
Gabriel checked his books. “That’s what people say. But I’m told that’s just your separation, your distance from events. The fading of memory is one of God’s great mercies.”
“You must get this every day. Well, I can’t really say no, can I? Bombs away?”
“Go forth, and multiply,” he commanded, pulling the soul’s memories out of it, gently shoving the soul off the edge. He muttered to himself, “I wish they’d slow down, though. Pretty soon they’ll be knocking on our gates, and the whole game will change.”
@kaolinfire // I know I’m horribly late, forgot to watch the time. Figured I’d get something out anyway. :/