Saturday, 20 July 2013

THE RETURN


This month of  July our theme is Honeymoon, (click the link above for a full explanation).
We have up to 1,000 words to play with for our stories, any genre, any POV, prose or poetry and is open from 19 - 22 July. 

Here is my entry:


THE RETURN
Julia glanced at the clock in the kitchen.  Peter would be home soon, the kettle was on ready for coffee.  It had been hectic in the office today, she would be glad to sit down after their dinner. 
It was an easy supper tonight, after all the rushing around, there was nothing nicer than popping something in the oven, thank goodness for freezers and the one she’d made earlier.
Peter arrived home with a frown on his face, perpetually worried these days, stressed and tense after dealing with the changes his company threw at him.  Management kept changing, in fact his new boss could be classed as a corporate psychopath or suffering from dementia he was so erratic.
‘How was your day, darling?’ It was the standard phrase these days.  Today was a good day and Peter responded with a smile, as he told her things were finally falling in to place. 
‘We need to think about booking a holiday,’ he said.  ‘How about going back to Jersey where we went on honeymoon?’
‘I’d love that,’ Julia exclaimed.  ‘Let’s hope it ends up better this time than it did on our honeymoon.’
‘Stay away from the crab salad then,’ Peter said. 
‘That wasn't a very romantic end to our few days away, was it?’ Julia agreed.
‘Talking of honeymoons,’ she continued, ‘Karen and Kevin are due back from their honeymoon this weekend.  The Bahamas.  It would be too hot for us; we wouldn’t cope with all that sand, sea and sun.’
They shared a special smile.  They knew each other so well after nearly ten years of marriage.
**********
Julia arrived at the office and saw Kevin’s car draw up with Karen beside him.  Aah, that’s sweet, she thought as she saw Kevin’s hand touch Karen's neck as they kissed goodbye.  Karen climbed out of the car and dashed into the building. 
‘Hey! How was the honeymoon?’ Julia enquired with a little wink. 
‘Oh yes, fine.  I’d better get on,’ Karen replied, stiffly.
‘How about meeting for lunch?  Say one o’clock?’ Julia threw at her best friend as Karen’s office door closed quickly on her retreating back.
That’s strange.  Oh well perhaps she’s just eager to get back to sorting out her office after her absence.  Julia shrugged her shoulders as she prepared to get on with her own work.
Two weeks later Julia and Karen still hadn't managed to meet up for lunch or any other social calls and nor had any of their other friends been able to catch Karen alone.  Julia was getting worried. 
A group of them met in The Phoenix Bar for a glass of red wine every Friday night before disappearing on to their respective trains and travelling home for the weekend. The conversation was lively until somebody remarked how strange Karen was acting these days.
Georgia reported that although she worked in the next office all you got from Karen was an apologetic ‘no’ citing that she was too busy.
Jane butted in and said what on earth had happened to Karen's dress sense these days.  She wore long sleeved blouses, buttoned up to the neck and trousers all the time.  Her make-up was laid on thickly and she never wore jewellery anymore.  In fact she had become quite a frump since she had married.
Julia was quite worried.  On Monday she was going to have it out with Karen and get to the bottom of the problem.  
On recounting these tales to Peter over the weekend his advice was not to get involved.  Whatever problems she was experiencing she would ask for help if she needed it was his sage advice.
Julia disagreed.  They were the best of friends, something must be terribly wrong somewhere, Karen wouldn't even answer her mobile or any text messages.
*********
Julia pinned Karen down by entering her office, shutting the door firmly behind her, closing the blinds and taking the phone off the receiver.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I need an explanation.  I know something is wrong and I want to help you,’ said Julia as she plopped herself down firmly in a chair on the other side of the desk.  She smiled at her best friend and held out her hand.
‘Don’t.  Don't be nice to me, Julia.  I have to be strong.  I can't afford to cry.’
Julia raced round to Karen and grabbed her friend in a bear hug. 
Karen winced in pain, her face paling under all the make-up.
‘What has happened?  Tell me,’ demanded Julia.
Gulping for air to relieve the pain and trying to hold back her tears Karen gradually blurted out her story.
‘It started a couple of days into our honeymoon.  Everything was fine and then one day Kevin just seemed to flip.   He became a monster.  He was so possessive.  He accused me of flirting with the barman, the concierge, the waiter at dinner, any male that happened to be within sight.  Of course, I denied it but he wouldn't have it.  He became angry, so angry that he punched me in the back and I fell on to our bed.’ 
Julia stroked Karen's arm, encouraging her to go on.
‘I think they call it marital rape these days,’ sobbed Karen ‘but it wasn't just that.  He was contrite afterwards and told me it was only because he loved me so much.  Everybody could see that.  When he drops me off at work he holds my neck – everybody thinks it is a loving caress but his thumb is pressing on my windpipe, reminding me of what will happen if I tell anyone.
I have bruises on my arms, he’s careful about my face but sometimes he can’t help it and I have to cover up a mark on my cheek.  I think I have a couple of broken ribs.’
Karen's mobile went off.  She started like a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights of a car.  ‘It’s Kevin,’ she whispered, ‘I have to answer it.’

Word Count: 1,000

Monday, 15 July 2013

THE DOLL

The rules:
1) Use the photo and the 5 words provided in your story
2) Keep your word count 500 words or less.
3) You have until next Tuesday to link up your post.
4) Link up with your blog hostess (Nicole, Carrie, Tena or Leanne)
5) Have fun, don’t stress, let those creative juices flow.
And here is the photo:




And here are the words -

factory

dock

comedy

sign

riddle


Here is my entry:

THE DOLL
Jennifer took the proffered tissue from the box.  She wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed a few more times.  The smell of the leather couch comforted her as she sank back against the plush cushions. 
The psychiatrist sat, patiently waiting until Jennifer had control of her emotions again.  Last week they’d finished their session with the question of why she was always waiting for a sign.
Jennifer recounted the recurring nightmare of a shop window full of dolls heads leering at her, some smiling, some grimacing, some upside down, all waiting for something or someone to put their lives together again.
That is how she felt most days, as though she was a ship in dry dock waiting for repairs to be made to her hull, her interior fittings and fixtures needing updating, refreshing and revitalising.
Jennifer told her counsellor that if she could clock in everyday as she did at work in the perfume factory then she could organise her moods accordingly. 
It was her private life that let her down each day, the riddle of her birth that she couldn’t come to terms with.  Knowing what she now knew about her natural mother didn't make it any easier to deal with.
The two people who had brought her up were always fighting, always squabbling.  Why she was ever allowed to live them was obviously a strange comedy of errors.
Anna lent forward with a compassionate face.  ‘Tell me how often you have these recurring nightmares, Jennifer,’ she said in a hypnotic voice that made you feel you wanted to tell her everything.
‘It seems to have been forever and a day,’ Jennifer replied.  ‘When I think about it though, it was probably five years ago when my doorbell rang.’
Prompted gently by Anna’s nodding head she continued. ‘I looked through the peephole and saw a grinning face, plastic skin covering baby blue eyes, black lashes curling out from the eyelids and gently cascading down on to her shoulders was a mass of curly brown hair peeping out from a lace edged bonnet.’
Jennifer looked up and found the courage to continue her story.  ‘My boyfriend had bought me a fantastic doll, clothed in a pretty lace dress, with fancy pantaloons, she was a very expensive doll and I loved her.  She took pride of place on top of my dresser in my bedroom.  I called her Clarissa.’
A big gulp, a throat swallow, ‘then Roger left me for my best friend and since then all I can see is a discarded head, bald and decapitated.  I put Clarissa back in her box and shoved her in the bottom of my wardrobe.’
Anna cleared her throat and apologetically said, ‘we’ll have to leave it there for today, Jennifer.  I think we’ve covered a lot of ground.  Can you make an appointment with my secretary for our next session?’
Jennifer smiled a tight, false smile, another brush-off, another dismissal.  Maybe she wouldn’t bother coming back.

Word Count: 499


Friday, 12 July 2013

ENCOUNTER

For this week, just a word:
HEAT
Do take it in any direction you like but keep it suitable for a PG certificate!


100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#97

ENCOUNTER

Her face became so red
She wished she’d stayed in bed
Heat suffused through her body
He smiled at her grinning broadly
She ineffectually dabbed at the stains
On his pure white shirt of the coffee remains
She’d sloshed all over him in the cafĂ©
As she weaved her way back from the buffet
She made her excuses and left the party
Traipsed back through the lobby
To her office on the eighth floor
With luck their paths wouldn’t cross anymore
Meeting the new chairman in the boardroom
Wearing his coffee splattered executive costume
The day from hell she now presumes.

Tuesday, 9 July 2013

Mary-Jane

Picture by Kristoffer Sorensen
This week's prompt.

The rules:
1) Use the photo and the 5 words provided in your story
2) Keep your word count 500 words or less.
3) You have until next Tuesday to link up your post.
4) Link up with your blog hostess (NicoleCarrie, Tena or Leanne)
5) Have fun, don’t stress, let those creative juices flow
The Five Words are: Custard, Cord, Birthday, Alter and Myth


MARY-JANE
Mary-Jane walked slowly along the beach, with each step she stretched out her foot, feeling the gritty, grainy sand between each of her toes.   She enjoyed the emptiness and stillness of the coast line at this early hour in the morning.  
She had crept out of the holiday cottage leaving her sleeping family to enjoy a few more precious hours before they rushed back to their busy lives and their alter-egos in the busy commercial world they all seemed to compete in.
She smiled to herself as she recalled the previous night’s events.  They were so kind and thoughtful to have arranged a surprise birthday bash for her, although she had had an inkling that something was going on when nobody was talking to her on Facebook.   She had embraced the new technology, much to the astonishment of her children and grandchildren, who now had to be slightly circumspect in what they ‘shared’ so that their grandmother didn’t follow an unsavoury thread.  They had laughed when she had got it wrong and told Louise, her 18 year old granddaughter that she liked following the cord. 
‘No, Nan, it’s called a thread but you don’t have to worry about that really,’ Louise had told her, patting her hand condescendingly.
Mary-Jane had shrugged her shoulders and decided to look up the other acronyms she had been wondering about because she didn't want to appear foolish.   She came across a wonderful site on Google (that made her cringe) all about urban myth; it was quite fascinating and was giving her an insight in to today’s modern world.  
There it was.  It was still there.  An uprooted tree stranded on the beach, throne like in its singularity, majestic in its downfall.   She empathised with the broken trunk, sometimes she felt as though she was discarded, left disconsolate whilst everything crashed around her.
She shook her head and dispelled dark thoughts.  This was not the time to be maudlin, she should be thankful for all the years she had spent on this earth and hopefully she would have many more to enjoy.  She stopped and rested against the fallen wood, its bark rough and showing its age. 
Her mind wandered off back to the days of her childhood and preparations for birthdays.  There was no convenience of preparing well in advance and storing foods in freezers.  Her mother had to prepare jellies two or three days in advance and the trifle would take a week to set.  Home-made custard was made with eggs and milk not out of a tin!
Mary-Jane lifted her eyes towards the cottage.  She thought she saw her husband of many years standing on the patio with a cup of coffee in his hand.  She thought she saw him blow her a kiss before he turned and disappeared back inside. 

A single tear fell down her cheek; it was just wishful thinking, knowing that this was another year and another birthday that had passed without him. 

Word Count: 496


Thursday, 4 July 2013

On The Beach

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#96
A picture prompt this week and you have the usual 100 words to produce a creative piece.


The link will close on 8th July

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…


ON THE BEACH
Clouds scudded across the sky
Fluffy edges tinged white and grey
As the shadows started to fall
The recycling bins stood tall
But a lone grey litter bin
Stood slightly apart from his kin
Perhaps a first generation import
Others evolved into different sorts
Choose the one that suits you best
Place inside cardboard, hard and compressed
Make sure it’s battened and flattened
No litter to be deposited on our sandy beach
Fingers of sunshine just out of reach
Shine on the lime green outer coating
Of staid, silent sentinels standing
Precise and still, attention grabbing,
Hungry mouths open, waiting.

Word count: 100 without title


Thursday, 27 June 2013

THE SALON

100 Word Challenge – week #95
Posted on June 24, 2013 by jfb57
100 words plus this prompt
….”Pink nails?” she cried…
The link will close next Monday 1st July
If you are new here please read ‘What is 100WCGU?


HERE IS MY CONTRIBUTION:

THE SALON

They arrived as the session was about to start
Juliette and Mary were having a heated heart-to-heart
Mary was flabbergasted, ‘Pink Nails?’ she cried out aloud
Juliette nodded her head vigorously, not to be cowed
She thought it was a perfect name for their new beauty salon
They’d have crystal glass bowls on the counter full of bon-bons
We can't discuss this here and now we have clients to tend to
We’ll be professional and not have a to-do
They hurried off to their respective clients
To sort out various ailments
A massage here, a facial there,
Still seething, they both enjoyed their career.

Word Count: 104 without title

Tuesday, 25 June 2013

THE CAFE






WWBH June 19 2013
The rules are simple:

The story must be related to the above picture and include the random words below. 
It must also be under 500 words.

Most important, have fun and don't stress out.

When you're done link your story to the linky at the bottom.
Random Words:

Crescent

Head-On

Imprint

Satin

Care-Worn

Here is my entry for this week:

THE CAFE
Abigail was fuming.  The stupid driver had nearly caused a head-on collision.  He roared off in his souped-up, super-duper car, exhaust growling, down the road through the traffic lights with no thought for anybody else.   No wonder the other car drivers were shaking their heads in disbelief at what had nearly happened.   The line of cars started to move off as the green lights beckoned them onwards on their journeys.
She replaced her pen and pad in the pocket of her white apron covering her black skirt and quickly made her way to the back of the restaurant and in to the kitchen.
‘Hey, doll, you OK?’ the silky satin words came from Roger as he turned and grinned at her whilst fixing the dishwasher controls once again. 
‘You don't want to know,’ Abigail replied trying to smile in return. 
The crescent moon began to shine through the back window, leaving just enough time to grab a quick cup of coffee before the office workers came in on their way home. 
Their little café, with their own speciality roasted beans, made it a pleasant social gathering for their customers to imprint superior tastes in their minds before they returned to their, perhaps sometimes, care-worn lives of family problems and disputes, as they left their hectic jobs behind for a few hours.
Abigail sat still and took the time to savour her coffee. She’d chosen the Coconino Mocha with the chocolate sauce that was her little special treat and indulgence once a day before her feet were too sore and her legs ached and her back felt as though it was on fire.
She placed her empty cup and saucer in the newly fixed dishwasher, wrapped her arms around Roger, gave him a loving squeeze and a quick peck on his cheek. 
‘Stay a while,’ he murmured as he enfolded her in his strong, muscular arms.  ‘You still have a few minutes.’
‘I wish I could but the rush is about to start,’ she replied with a heartfelt sigh.
Abigail stood behind the counter chatting to her colleague, Jane, just as a young lad sauntered in, baseball cap on the wrong way round, chains dangling from his jeans that were hanging down by his crotch.
She went over to his table, pen poised over her pad, looked him in the eye daring him to say something cheeky to her. 
‘Yo, sis!’
Abigail’s left eyebrow arched over her forehead.
‘Sorry, Abby,’ came a mumbled apology of sorts.  ‘Please can I have a Cuppa Jo?’
Abigail nodded her head, patted his hand and turned to fulfil the order.  She returned to his table quickly, placed the coffee down on the coaster.
‘So you’re still in character then, Ben?’ she asked quizzically.  ‘How do you like being an extra on the film set?’
Her 16 year old brother sipped his coffee with relish, nodded his head and grinned as he gave her the thumbs up.
Word Count: 493