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    Creative Writing Prompt: What Story Does This Picture Tell?

    creative writing exercise

     

    What story does this picture conjure up in your mind?

    Can you come up with a mini-story of not more than 350 words?

    In case you’re not familiar with Writing Prompts, here’s how it works:

    • We set the scene
    • You steal it, make it your own, and
    • Share your creation in the comments section of this post

     Now for the ground rules:

    • Your story must be 350 words or less.
    • Your work must be original and not previously published.
    • WTD provides an encouraging and safe environment for writers to grow and learn from each other. We’d love you to comment on other people’s submissions in a friendly and supportive manner.

    This month’s writing prompt is designed to develop your storytelling skills. Normally, we use words to paint a picture in the reader’s mind. Here, your prompt is an image. Can you weave an interesting story around this image in 350 words or less?

     We can’t wait to read what you come up with, so please copy your story into the comments section of this post.

    About the author:
    Mary Jaksch is Editor-in-Chief at Write to Done. Grab her FREE report How to Write Like an A-List Blogger. Mary has helped thousands of students successfully create outstanding and profitable blogs at  A-List Blogging and is the blogger behind Goodlife ZEN.

    Copyright: / 123RF Stock Photo

    About the author

      Mary Jaksch

      Mary Jaksch is best known for her exceptional training for writers at WritetoDone.com. Grab her latest all new course Blogwriter's Bootcamp 2.0 or a copy of her free report, How to Create an Irresistible Lead Magnet in Less Than 5 Hours. In her “spare” time, Mary’s also the brains behind AlistBlogging.net. and GoodlifeZEN.com, a Zen Master, a mother, and a 5th Degree Black Belt.

    • Kasi says:

      “Why can’t you accept it?” Cody demanded, a tinge of hysteria trickling into his voice as he stared at his ex. Lena was beautiful, even with her dark hair pulled back messily and exhausted eyes regarded him cautiously. Her arms crossed around her slender form. It pained him to see her so worn down.

      “Be quiet,” She whispered. “You’ll wake your daughter. I just put her down.”

      “Take the money then.”

      “I refuse to take your money. You don’t have a job, yet you stand here wearing a shiny new suit. What illegal activities have you gotten yourself involved in now?” Lena’s eyes narrowed and her chin set. She was so frustratingly beautiful and stubborn. “Go, Cody. And take your drug money with you.”

      “It’s not drug money!” His hand clutched the door, knuckles turning white from the force.

      “Drug money, blood money… it’s all the same and I don’t want it.” Lena sounded so tired, so miserable. Why couldn’t she accept his peace offering? It would make life easier. Hell, if she’d allow him back into their lives she’d have help with the baby too.

      “Lena, darling,” Cody’s voice softened as he tried a new tactic. “I promise you that this is honest, hard earned cash. Take it.” When he reached out to hand her the crisp stack of green bills she shoved his hand away, scattering them all over the entryway.

      “Enough. I’m sick of your lies, your promises. Go!”

      Cody backed away, shocked by her force and paled as the door slammed loudly in his face. From somewhere in her dingy apartment he heard the shrill cry of a child and cringed. “Hush now, ma coeur.” Empty inside, he walked away as she sang a soft lullaby.

      There was a slam at the other end of the hall and he looked up in time to hear a loud crack. He saw a quick flash and froze. Staring down at his stomach, he watched with shock as crimson blood seeped between his fingers and stained the white shirt before he fell to his knees.

    • Geraldine Banks says:

      “You must know where the car keys are?I’m late already! I’m supposed to be on a table with clients!”
      “Look I’m really sorry,Roger said no partners this time.It’s £500 /head for the table.You know how tight fisted he is!”
      “Please say something…!” Greg brushed by Laura and started looking for the keys to their jointly owned car.An expensive 4×4 which stretched their budget to the limit.
      “Why are they not in the jug?…they’re always in the jug”Greg in a fit of pique threw the utilitarian but attractive jug across the living room.It smashed in the corner of the room.Laura turned and with a raised eyebrow…sighed…”You had them last! That was really unecessary! And I don’t give a damn about your stupid dinner at the BAFTA’s”.This was a lie…she really wanted to go,but she didn’t know what had happened to the keys.You’ll have to get a Taxi.I’ll ring up.Laura dialed a number into her mobile & in 10 minutes a flustered Greg was sitting in the back of a mini-cab.
      Laura meanwhile sat on the sofa & thought.A light went on.She made another call.”Roger ,Greg is on his way ,you bastard you’ve got my car keys in your pocket.You must have taken them off my bedside table!”

    • Jodi says:

      “I’m not getting onto that thing”. Cary scoffed at the pubescent love of her life.
      “How are you going to explain to your mother that you decapitated her only chance of ever pawning you off someday? I could never marry such a fool.”
      Holding onto the bent handlebar of a rusty motorbike, Barney’s expression was that of a goofy Labrador Retriever. “I got you a helmet. You’ll be fine, my dramatic little princess.”
      “And…” she led
      “I love you.”
      She got 5 stitches that day. But the ride was worth every one.
      For as long as Cary could remember, she’s gone along with all of Barney’s impulsive ideas. And she never made it easy.
      This time would be no different. Today, she really had to make him sweat… at least a little. Today was their wedding day, after all.
      Ten minutes late for her own wedding, Cary answered the dressing room door with a stern expression.
      “I just can’t go through life married to someone named Barney. I mean, what was your mother thinking?”
      Barney blew an over-gelled curl out of his eyes “Nope. I know what you’re doing. Just save your breath and get down that aisle!” He began to close the dressing room door behind him.
      Unyielding, Cary continued her taunting. “I mean, talk about starting a guy off with a major romantic handicap! I should rethink this whole wedding thing.” She begins to pace (sure he’s still looking) as would a great thespian upon the stage. She pretends to coddle a baby in her arms, coos softly. ”Oh, little baby. Aren’t you darling? How will I ever keep you from running away with a beautiful damsel? I know… I’ll name you after a dorky sheriff! Or a creepy purple puppet! Surely you’ll be loveless for all time!”
      “Fine! You win!” Barney chuckled. He pushed the door open and stepped in. Cary put on her ‘pouty face’ for dramatic effect.
      “Ahem!” Barney cleared his throat and made a grand gesture with his hands. His voice let out a bellowing tune…
      I love you
      You love me…

    • Apurva says:

      “Mmm….I love the smell of your freshly shampooed hair”, Ned whispered, dunking his face in the back of Rosetta’s neck as she tried to iron out her messy hair. They were getting late for a wedding.
      “Go away, Ned, I know why you are being so sweet. Don’t you forget I’m still mad at you for cancelling a dinner with my parents to attend this last minute wedding of your distant friend”, she blared, wide eyed, lips pursed. she was not going to give in easily.
      “I want you to look most beautiful”, he continued unperturbed, his hands, sliding down the thin fabric of her skin tight dress, resting now on her pert derriere admiring her soft curves, while she carried on working on her hair ignoring him,
      “She would be so jealous”, he whispered almost to himself, as he kissed her neck was now exposed as she lifted her voluminous hair up.
      “Who are you talking about?”, she asked, curious, her attention now pricked, a faint unease settling over her.
      “Nnn…no one”, he stuttered, “forget about her. We are getting late. Come on hurry”.
      “Who is this friend getting married today?”, she demanded, her blazing eyes belying the extent of her inner angst. She wanted answers.
      “It doesn’t matter. I knew her for sometime”, he let out.
      “As in slept with her”, she interjected. “How does that make any difference?”, he cried, “that was before I met you”, he clarified. “She is a lot older by the way and she was the one who seduced me”.
      Rosetta froze by the door, her hands interlocked. Blood raging like wild fire in her veins. She had had enough of his wild past and had no intention of scrapping any further.
      “So basically you want to dangle me like a trophy and make her jealous? Is that all I am? A trophy wife? Is that why you cancelled our family dinner? To meet up with your seductress?”

      “No No…you are getting me all wrong”, he quivered.
      “You know what, I am coming with you and let me tell you loud and clear, I am going to make a scene, hell ya I am going to make sure she repents for her sins. Watch me”, and she stormed off towards the waiting car. Her stilettos banging on the sidewalk, mimicking her heart in her chest.
      “Hey wait, come back”. he cried to no avail. He walked disheartened towards the lonely road, hailing a cab for himself. The last call to the Svensons cancelling the dinner with their daughter was still fresh in his mind.
      At the venue, Rosetta arrived looking beautiful as always, her attire no match for the turbulence of emotions bubbling underneath. Spotting the bride, she hurried towards her, about to unleash her verbal volley when she heard, “Rosie, Rosie”. She turned back and stopped in her tracks. Ned had invited her parents for the wedding too.

    • Cirrasaeva says:

      “Can you please just try to understand?” Hanse pleaded to Andra. She rolled her eyes and sighed. “No you try to understand! I don’t like them! They’re rude and all they do is push you around!” she exclaimed in a half-whisper.

      “Could you please keep your voice down?” Hanse said, sighing. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but they’re my employers. If I want to keep my job, we have to be here.”

      Andra sat down on the puffy chair in the room. It was much too poofy and flowery for the rest of the dark room. Too light hearted for the dark atmosphere and dim lights. Defeated, Andra said, “Why do people dare to step all over others? Or even worse, why do people just lay down and let others walk all over them? Why do you?” She was desperately trying to understand her husband’s tendency to let others rule him.

      Hanse kneeled down in front of her. “I do it because I love you. I need this job so we can survive together. I will do whatever it takes, even sacrifice my ego and dignity, for us. For you.” Hanse pulled them together in a hug. She rested her chin on his shoulder and closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

      This poofy chair was kind of like their relationship. Around it might be dark and dim. But dark and dim can be romantic. Darkness is not equal to sadness. And when this flowery, girly, poofy chair was in a room like this, it lights up everything else. Andra reflected on this and realized she was comparing her marriage to a room and a chair.

      “Okay, Hanse, let’s go,” Andra said, pulling away and smiling. Hanse pecked her lips and got up. As they walked, Andra added quickly, “But if they say one more thing, I’m going to kick them until they die.”

      “No doubt about it.”

    • Juan Carlos Silva says:

      “Why won’t you just listen to me? Goddamn it!”

      “I really don’t wanna hear it, Jimmy!”, said Claire completely adamant, rolling her eyes to avoid meeting his at all costs. She had never been this furious at her boyfriend in the three years they had been together. This time was different, though. He had gone too far and now, she had had enough.

      “Please, babe. Just hear me out!” – Jimmy pleaded helplessly with her, but Claire was resolute. She stood firmly by the door with her arms crossed as if rooted to the ground; her left foot tapping impatiently as Jimmy kept blurting out half-mumbled apologies and empty promises, which she did not care to listen to. All she wanted was for him to leave – for good this time.

      Claire had never thought of herself as naive, and yet she felt completely stupid for believing that Jimmy could ever change.

      That night at the casino, Jimmy had lost more than just the money they had been saving to move into a new place together; he had gambled away her trust, together with what little love and respect she had left for him. She now knew the time had come to unplug their crippled relationship from life support and put it to rest.

      In Claire’s mind, the idea of breaking up with Jimmy had become a vivid déjà vu. She had lost count of how many times she had thought about it. It always happened in the same way: they would argue; she would throw him out; then she would look out the window as he walked away, slowly vanishing into the night like the hazy memory of a bad dream.

      “Miss…are you there? What’s your emergency?… Hello?” – The voice on the other end of the line pulled Claire from the daze of her own thoughts. The door was open. She turned around and walked instinctively towards her living room window. Her grip on the kitchen knife tightened as she stepped clumsily over the lifeless body lying on the floor. She looked out into the night. Jimmy was gone.

      Juan Carlos Silva © 2015. All rights reserved.

    • Ali says:

      The more he insisted, the more she felt tapped. It had been a year and some change now that the burden, the guilt that she bore through it all was becoming too much to handle. He had promised to come clean, to tell his wife everything. They were in madly in love, so why wouldn’t he?

      “It’s just a dinner, Cynthia”; he said visibly distressed with a touch of desperation in his voice, though maintaining that veneer of slick charm that came so easily to him. And before she could state her case, he interrupted “And I must take Rachel with me. She’s my wife and everyone will expect her there”.

      She knew there would be no point in arguing this. His mind was all but made up and he was an excellent spin-doctor. Manipulating his wife and her to precise measure. Even in her deepest modes of self-pity, her mind couldn’t help but bring up Rachel. The doting wife, alone at home, with two kids… she forced herself to quickly whisk that image aside, the emotional drama of it all would be too much attend to.

      But she could no longer stand to be his closet project. His dampened, furtive passion plaything. She was at the end of her rope, willing to lift the veil on this monster. At the very least, if nothing else she thought of it as a favor to Rachel. Then, quite suddenly, as he attempted to leave out the front door he turned only his torso and smiled at her, the kind where you notice the eyes more than the mouth. She softened, relented. She always did.

    • v g says:

      “I have him right where I want him. I knew Maggy could play the part, that little minx. Now all I have to do is not give in to his begging… ah… he’s so cute when he’s begging like this. But, I ain’t giving up. Serves him right after that stunt he played on me at last week’s party. I’m gonna make him suffer, and not only that… but, he’s going to pay… and I mean big.”
      “What’s wrong with her, why won’t she listen to reason… It wasn’t my fault, she came on to me like a crazy person, all drunk and chatty and… Oh, my God, she not angry about that… she’s trying to get back at me for embarrassing her at last week’s party… but, she was way out of line… I was just doing her a favor.”

    • Wow. This could be us, or a lot of couples we know, who’ve been together for many years and often look like this, he making the point, she rolling her eyeballs, hoping he doesn’t notice that gesture, because he gets oh so offended by it. Of course, this is a much younger version of those other couples, but the posture hasn’t changed. He starts screaming ‘cause he’s pretty sure she’s not listening to a single word of his ridiculous rant, she’s tunes out, ‘cause she’s heard it oh so many times before. But her mother-in-law told her this was the best way to handle these situations, which seem to now occur almost daily. Some years ago, when they were just starting out as that young, starry-eyed, oh so in love couple, that wise woman just looked at her and offered her advice with a swift movement of her oh so wise fingers, zipping her lips together. Not a word of response, no reply needed. And it will stop. And it does. Until the next time, when it starts all over again.
      The young, beautiful couple, arguing about letting the kids have too much without having to do a thing for whatever they are given. Or there not being enough money to keep everyone happy. Or a million other things, especially some off-the-cuff comment made in the heat of the argument. They see things differently nowadays, and perception is everything.
      Their parents came here from two different worlds, countries, that is, seeking something so much better for their children. This was a new world for their parents, a world they often didn’t quite fit into. These two, their children, made sure they fit in. Intelligent, college-educated, strong-minded, strong-willed individuals. Their parents argued like this too, sometimes, with him making the point, and her not listening to a word. Because she’d heard it all before, so many times, and would probably hear it all again, many more times.
      Nobody really wins. Oddly enough, it keeps them together, keeps them close in a way nothing else ever could.

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    • K Lovoy says:

      “Please,Tiffany I beg you to come with me to this social function.” Richard already dressed in his tux, pleaded desperately with the woman he admirer-ed and had been in love with since college. They had met when she waited on him at a local cafe after he pulled an all night with studying for first semester finals.

      “Hi College, so what can I get you?”

      “Waitress” looking hard at her name tag,”Tiffany is it. ‘Richard’ is my name and I sure could use a much needed caffeine fix.”

      “What? Mr. College you don’t want to order any food with your coffee? Coffee is free with some of our menu”

      “Yeah OK.you talked me into it you choose something for me,my brain is on over load and I’m nervous about passing these exams,”

      “Ah don’t worry you will pass. You got this Richard. Now how you want your eggs and pick one: toast, biscuit,pancakes Pick one of these,.Bacon,ham…..”

      “Gosh Tiffany,I think your questions are more complicated then what is going to be on the exams.”

      Before he knew it he was served this plentiful dish of breakfast foods and the two of them connected and were dating. Nothing elaborate. Sometimes it was just to have a picnic or something simple to spend time together. Tiffany would take an interest in Richards studies and encourage him. He would always show up at the cafe when he got his grades to show her he had passed his exams and gloating. Sometimes he would just show up just because.

      After four years he graduated on the deans list and brought Tiffany home to meet his family. His oil tycoon father,Richard Sr. told him,”You are young and should not settle, play the field,Hit it and quit it” were his words. His mother,Catherine, replied on the subject of Tiffany, “She does not fit in with our society and I bet she is a ‘Gold Digger’. Included with a threat,” if you don’t let her go there will be no more financial support from this family”. Catherine had other plans for Richard to be with one of her friends daughters from her social circle.

      Tiffany standing behind the bedroom door with her sultry disposition of arms crossed and eyes rolling, replied to Richards plea, “Look Richard, your family has made it clear that I’m not welcome.I’m not going to any kind of function that they are involved in. I love you but this it is hard to go where I’m not welcome.Just go and I’ll be here when you get home.”

      “Tiffany, Darling I need and want you to go with me. This isn’t about them it’s about me hob nobbling with prospects to secure our future so I can take care and provide for us on my own. You deserve so much better than this place we are living in now. You were there for me through school and you are my strength. You are so smart and articulate well for not being able to go to college. In my book you have a natural talent and are great with people . My parents have never given you a chance. Please go with me and be yourself with working your magic.I love you and I need you by my side”

      A knock at the door and a woman calling out interrupted Richards pleading with Tiffany.

      “Helloooo, Richard Dear,”

      Richard summons the woman,”Valerie, the door is open come on in”

      “Valerie, Please help me out here.”

      “Oh Richard, I brought some beautiful evening gowns for Tiffany to choose from. I know will fit Tiffany perfect and I’m here to help out so you two come to the car with me and help bring some things in.”

      His Aunt Valerie knew how her sister Catherine and brother in laws’ family could be. She was much younger than her sister Catherine and within seven years older than her nephew Richard. Both family’s had grown up in the elite neighborhood. Richard Sr. family came from old money passed down through generations that had been invested in more money making opportunity. Catherine and Valerie’s’ father struggled with working his way through school with top grades and student loans and grants,graduated and had interned in the politic arena where he had met his future wife, Stacy while looking at real-estate for a candidates office. Valerie never agreed with how her sister Catherine behaved after the story’s her parents told about how hard they worked to obtain the life style that some only take for granted.

      “Gees Valerie you have a lot of stuff, you planning on moving in.” Richard commented as Valerie had him put his arms out and laid several bags of dresses across his arms to carry in.

      Valerie just smirked and turned and jester-ed a carry case for Tiffany to take with a low tone plea,

      “Tiffany, please come to this event. I sure could use the company and I have some friends I would love for you to meet.”

      “Don’t allow my sister and brother-in-laws’ opinion of others go to your heart. Richard would write me while in college and I feel as if I already know you.” With a giggle Valerie continued,” Richard and I have always been close like brother and sister why I prefer him not to imply Aunt in front of my name. Come on Dear let’s get you Red Carpet suave.”

      Tiffany recalled when she first met Valerie of how she welcomed her in as if they had known each other like old friends and felt very comfortable around Valerie. Now it made sense most likely from the letters Richard had corresponded to and from his Aunt. Valerie had done well for herself graduating dress design school and starting her own business in the city of a well ‘ to do’ dress shop that displayed top designers clothing including some of her own designs.

      Tiffany had finally been won over and she thought how far she had come already in life. Richards endearing words of what he had thought of her being a major part in his life were very touching.For she did not realize how much he cherished her until he had said them.

      .Tiffany cheered up as the three of them proceeded into the house and replied,”Valerie,you are such a sweet person and have gone through so much effort for me.You know you are right I should never allow myself to be defined by others opinions.Catherine and her snooty friends reminds me of some of the girls in Junior High school. Those days are over and I’m grown and no matter what remarks are made I will not lower myself to such childish behavior.Let’s do this.”

      “Thank you, Valerie.” Richard says with a relief on his face and a twinkle in his eye as Valerie and Richard exchanged a familiar glance at each other from days of childhood gone by when his Aunt would cushion ridicule and reason with his parents on behalf of Richard when a challenge would arise that he wanted to participate in some endeavor with his peers.

      “I can’t wait to see one of those glam dresses on my gorgeous woman.”

      “Now Richard you just go wait and give me 20 minutes and we will be ready as the song says to get this party started. We might be fashionably a little late but it will be well worth it.” Valerie said as she looked at Richard and pointed towards the couch.

      Even though they were renting a very old Craftsman’s style house that had layers of caked up paint and did not do much for the improvements of camouflaging the old make shift doors and gloss walls of gypsum board, Tiffany was happy to just have Richard in her life. It was worth more than the diamond cluster necklace Valerie had just fastened around her neck that she had brought in her bag of make over.

      Fifteen minutes later two women emerged from the bedroom and ready to go.

      “Wow! you two look like a million!”

      Centered between the glamorous beauty’s, Richard escorted Tiffany and Valerie to the vehicles. First Tiffany then Valerie to her car giving her a wink. “Thank you so much for all you do for me.I’ll see you there, Valerie.”

      “Yes you will, Richard I’ll wait for you and you can escort both us lovely’s into the party for my date is there waiting.”

      “Yes Ma’am”

      Valerie gave Richard a look of shock,”Really Richard, Ma’am. I’ll show you Ma’am.” as she reeves the motor and leaves.

      Richard went and got into the car and grabbed Tiffany’s hand and gave it a kiss and a gentle squeeze.Happy that she sat beside him in the passengers seat.

      Tiffany piped up and told Richard,” No matter what I have no expectations of the type life you have been raised in but I know you can do anything you set your mind to and this is why I love you so.”

      Richard replied, “Darling this is why you are the woman for me. I’m a better person because of you.”

      They arrived at the extravaganza. The Valet parked the car and Tiffany and Richard walked up to Valerie standing by an older gentleman with introductions, “Richard and Tiffany this is my date, Major Collins.”

      Pleasantry’s exchanged among-st the four and the gentlemen escorted their dates into the social function. Heads turned and Richard whispered to Tiffany,”Smile you have already made magic and lit the room up.”

      (C) 2015 2/23 K Lovoy

    • Alaina says:

      “Ew. Whats that smell?” Josh asked Teresa.

      “Well, don’t look at me,” she said voice tinged with annoyance as she folded her arms. “It was probably the dog again.”

      “No, this smell is different,” he continued to sniff.

      “Would you quit acting like Scooby Doo and just finish getting ready? I don’t want to be late,” Teresa pouted. She had spent hundreds on these tickets, hours on her hair and she was not letting either go to waste.

      “Just hold up a sec. I want to check out that smell,” Josh continued as his nose led him to the basement door.

      “Who cares about the smell, hopefully it will be gone by the time we get back,” Teresa responded as she followed in Josh’s wake. Josh continued to ignore her as he creaked open the door and started down the stairs, Teresa nagging the whole way down.

      “Uh,” Teresa stopped and covered her mouth and nose, “It smells like someone vomited down here like three days ago.” Josh paid her no heed and continued, but also covered his airways. The wet, decaying, and acid tinged smell was becoming unbearable. He didn’t know why his nose led him, but once he was set on something he wasn’t going to let it go. It was either the curiosity got the better of him or he was just plain stubborn. “Please, Josh, can we just call an exterminator or something and leave already?”

      Josh stopped and quickly snatched his hand back as soon as he uncovered a tarp in the corner of the basement.

      “I don’t think this is something an exterminator can take care of,” he managed to gasp out before turning and vomiting. Teresa was about to make some snide comment but not before the door banged open and the sound of boots was heard on the creaking stairs.

      “You should have gone to the show,” the boots said before the lights went out and they were enveloped in darkness.

    • Joshua says:

      “Stace, we can’t be doing this anymore.” Stacy glared at the back wall. “I’m getting married.”

      “Well, you’re not yet.”

      “But you’re not giving me any room to get there. Look, I want to be your friend. I really do. But what we have… what we had… isn’t going to work anymore.”

      “You haven’t told her.”

      “No.” John hung his head. If Jennifer knew….

      “And that’s ok?” Stacy’s cold voice didn’t pierce quite as well as her eyes. “You think it’s ok to get married and not tell her about your other escapade?”

      “I told her that we were finished, Stace. I told her that we were done. That was eight months ago. And I’ve tried, for eight months…”

      “Oh, don’t go telling me you didn’t enjoy every last moment of it.”

      “I didn’t, and you know that. Every time I tried to walk out, you blocked the door. You know the right clothes, the right moves, the right everything. You’re a pro, and you used every trick…”

      “Sure, blame it on me.” Her eyes tightened. Venom. “Blame all of it on me. Not once did I force you. You stayed all on your own.”

      “Only because…” John didn’t know how to respond. He tried to leave; really he did.

      “No answer? That’s what I thought.”

      “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t like you anymore.” John wasn’t even sure himself why he couldn’t leave. If they didn’t live in the same house, he never would have visited. “I’m not trying to tell you that….” Stacy visually ignored him. Perhaps a little thicker on the eye roll… perfect. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

      “Well, John, it hurt, ok? And now you think you can just walk away. Well, fine. You think your life is going to be better with her than me? We’ll see how you make it past the first month.”

      Stacy pushed John away from the door, stormed out, and slammed it. John was still in a daze when a text came from Jennifer.

      “Stacy called. We need to talk.”

    • Zoe says:

      I remember Jeremy Wittry all too well, or at least the last time that I saw him, that is.

      I had just gotten off from work, it was a warm Spring Tuesday, and I was heading over to my apartment. Just as I had locked my door, there was a knock on the door.

      “Who is it?” my voice was gravelly.

      “Jeremy,” my bestfriend’s- well at the time he was my bestfriend- voice was thick and cold.

      A smile wriggled it’s ugly self onto my face as I unlocked the door, but my smile shattered once I saw him in a tuxedo. You see, I had quite the crush on my bestfriend, “What are you wearing,” I covered my paranoia with a feeble joke.

      “A tuxedo. I’m getting married, Cecilia,” his voice was stripped and serious.

      I blinked at him as my heart shattered once more as it had before over him, “Excuse me, what did you say?”

      “I’m getting married, Cecilia.”

      He used my full name which meant he was being honest, “You can’t get married!” I bursted without thinking and hen covered my mouth.

      Jeremy sighed, “You can’t tell me what to do, Cecilia. I am marrying Nora this afternoon.”

      “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?!” My voice hitched and I felt as if I could feel my insides rotting away, so I folded my arms instinctively.

      “I know you love me. I didn’t meant to hurt you like that.”

      I looked at him as though he was an idiot, “You just did!” I ran to my bedroom and buried my face in a pillow. Jeremy sat on the foot of my bed and attempted to rub my back, but I looked up at him menacingly with smeared mascara, “Do you get off messing with my heart? You can find your way to the door.” My voice was as cold and souless as I felt.

    • Joshua says:

      “Stace, we can’t be doing this anymore.” Stacy glared at the back wall. “I’m getting married.”

      “Well, you’re not yet.”

      “But you’re not giving me any room to get there. Look, I want to be your friend. I really do. But what we have… what we had… isn’t going to work anymore.”

      “You haven’t told her.”

      “No.” John hung his head. If Jennifer knew….

      “And that’s ok?” Stacy’s cold voice didn’t pierce quite as well as her eyes. “You think it’s ok to get married and not tell her about your other escapade?”

      “I told her that we were finished, Stace. I told her that we were done. That was eight months ago. And I’ve tried, for eight months…”

      “Oh, don’t go telling me you didn’t enjoy every last moment of it.”

      “I didn’t, and you know that. Every time I tried to walk out, you blocked the door. You know the right clothes, the right moves, the right everything. You’re a pro, and you used every trick…”

      “Sure, blame it on me.” Her eyes tightened. Venom. “Blame all of it on me. Not once did I force you. You stayed all on your own.”

      “Only because…” John didn’t know how to respond. He tried to leave; really he did.

      “No answer? That’s what I thought.”

      “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t like you anymore.” John wasn’t even sure himself why he couldn’t leave. If they didn’t live in the same house, he never would have visited. “I’m not trying to tell you that….” Stacy visually ignored him. Perhaps a little thicker on the eye roll… perfect. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

      “Well, John, it hurt, ok? And now you think you can just walk away. Well, fine. You think your life is going to be better with her than me? We’ll see how you make it past the first month.”

      Stacy pushed John away from the door, stormed out, and slammed it. John was still in a daze when a text came from Jennifer.

      “Stacy called. We need to talk.”

    • Adriana Eatman says:

      ‘What the…? Have you and your nympho friend – I can see her lurking behind you – been watching all this time? Just because I’ve been changing into my Benedict Cumberbatch outfit? Watching through those two little holes? The eyes in the picture? I thought they were following me around the room! How creepy. And to think… it’s a painting of your great-great grandmother. The Duchess. No wonder she looked so frigging frisky. Was this her little hidey-hole as well? Spying on her male guests? You toff girls just do as you like, don’t you? Just wait till I get back from the Sherlock Convention – I’m going to – er – I’m going to … put you both over my knee!’

    • Charlotte Conley says:

      “Duty Dance”

      “Here, let me help you with that.” Stanley expertly looped the groom’s pearl gray at Tim’s throat and confident hand.
      Tim grinned sheepishly, “Thanks, bro. Do I suck, or what?”
      “Yeah, you do, but you’re entitled. It’s not everyday a guy gets hitched to the girl of his dreams, right?” Stan straightened the boutonniere and grinned at his best friend’s reflection. “You look good.”
      “I guess I do,” Tim replied with a grin. “And speaking of… have you seen Tracy’s bridesmaid? DAMN! Brittany’s even hotter than she was in high school – only this time she won’t be turning you down for that dance! How’s Connie handling that?”
      “She’s fine,” Stanley said with a confidence he didn’t feel.
      “Dancing with a Victoria’s Secret model you knew in school? Come on!”
      Stan spun Tim around, “Connie’s FINE with Brittney. We have to get out there.”
      Tim nodded. “You’re right. Got the rings?”
      “Right here.” Stanley patted his pocket.
      “Got the cash for the preacher and the band?”
      Stan slid the envelopes out with a smile.
      “Everybody got their flowers?”
      “Everybody’s showered and flowered, brother!”
      “Good… but we still have a problem,” he said looking pointedly at Stan’s feet.
      Stan grimaced at Vans he wore. “Oh yeah, I forgot. Connie has ‘em. I’ll be right back!”

      But he wasn’t.

      Stan must have looked in every room in the Victorian Inn before finally spotted her in the potting shed.
      “Jesus, Connie! What the Hell are you doing out here? The wedding is about to start and I need my frickin’ SHOES! ”
      Connie’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “Musta left them somewhere,” she said.
      “Come on, let’s go!”
      “You gonna have to go find them on your own, Stanley,” she said flatly. “I’m not going.”
      “Why not?”
      “It’s HER, Stanley! I am not standing by and watching you dance with that bitch!”
      What the Hell are you talking about?”
      “I’m talking about Brittney, Stanley, your old high school flame! If you’re gonna dance with Brittany-I-Prance-Around-In-My-Underwear-For-Money-Corvalis, you can God-Damn-Well do it barefoot!”

    • Jet Cenia says:

      “I am gay”
      “as if im ever going to believe you now, we are married for 7 years Tom!” I wont look at you now that I wished we never got into this anniversary date shit”. Jenny looked up, ignoring her husbands confession. She could never understand the failure of her husband in satisfying her plea’s.
      “look, Jen sorry. okay, its just its so hard to tell you now that it has been yes 7 years since we got married” Tom replied. “i wished i knew who i really was back then. I never expected that i would turn into someone everyone would look down upon”. Jenny lifted her arms up and crossed it, still avoiding her husbands stare. “you know, Tom. its over. stop explaining to me. Now i perfectly understand, what you are. Now its all over.”
      Tom looked at Jen with frustration, sometimes he can’t even understand himself from everything that has gone with his life. He had the perfect wife, he had 2 happy children. It was a fairytale made family and he ruined it on their 7th anniversary for telling his wife he’s gay.

      then Jen started to look at tom, teary-eyed she said “Tom. You never failed to become my husband. You never failed to be one of the best fathers our children could ever have, and i thank you for all these years.”

      Tom took Jen’s hands and said ” Thank you, Jen. ”

      then Jen hugged Tom by his back and said “By the way, Tom. Thank you too for being honest. Being honest compensates for all the hurt, the truth had caused me.”

      “And.. Remember, whatever you are or you have been, i will always love you.”

      • Charlotte Conley says:

        I messed up the first sentence when I copied and pasted, dang it! He’s tying the groom’s gray silk tie… sheesh!

    • Noellin Imoh says:

      Hi Mary, is there any chance i can extract and make my story up to 350 words. I thought it was 300 that was needed. Thank you.

    • Heather KD says:

      Silence; air grew heavy with its deafening emptiness. His eyes lay upon her image as she stood in the doorway. How could he have been so blatantly blind? Blinded towards her feelings to gloat and ramble on about his own personal endeavors. His eyes closed; those words stung deep inside his chest. Words of farewell; eyes of sorrow and anguish. It was as if they had hurt her as much as they burned a hole into his chest.

      ‘You left me alone.’
      ‘Do I matter to you?’
      ‘What am I in your life?’
      ‘I can’t live like this anymore.’

      Light brown hues opened once more, sunlight glistening off of unshed tears. “Claire… I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to neglect you…”

      Her eyes stayed fixated upon a small sapling, its tiny leaves dancing in the minuet breeze. Emotion was the last thing she wished to show upon her stoic face; yet tears stung her eyes relentlessly. ‘He has done it before, he will do it again. Why is this even a question or debate?’ Claire’s mind was filled with questions but most importantly a voice of reason. She closed her eyes, drawing in a small breath. The pain would not linger forever, it would subside with time.

      Blue hues met brown, a small smile gracing her lips. “Steve…” He looked at her, a glimmer of hope within the depths of his eyes. A delicate hand lifted to his cheek and traced over the stubbles. A soft kiss was planted upon his lips, taken away just as quickly. “I’m sorry.” He could feel his heart literally fall into the pit of his stomach. Those words embedded themselves deep within his soul. “Good bye.”

      Steps grew faint as he looked to the ground; her image was gone yet their memories and her scent still remained.

    • Virginia says:

      What’s wrong Sara? I feel like you always get jealous when I talk to other women. Don’t you know you are the only one for me? Dylan is apologizing in his own way despite what he really feels like doing, which happens to be grabbing Sara in his arms and ravaging her, kissing her and caressing her. She has no clue what he wants.

      Unbelievable Dylan! You assume what I’m thinking and never take into consideration that I may be pondering on something different. Despite what you think I am not always jealous. What I really want to do is take that jacket you have on, pull it over your head so you can’t see and push you right out the door! You are so arrogant. I can’t believe I came to this party with you thinking you’d be a civilized date. Shame on me for thinking that and shame on you for being such a jackass!

    • “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t try to talk to anyone tonight…that you would just be here to support me this time,” he whined. Andrew’s voice grew more petulant with each complaint. “You’ve already got what you wanted, what I promised you.”

      This is it, I thought calmly. I can’t take it anymore. I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. I didn’t say anything. What could I say that would have any effect anyway? I didn’t like the guy, much less love him.

      The time I spent with Andrew was probably worth it, in the end, having scored that modeling contract, not to mention the people I’d met over the last three months while tagging along to these black tie affairs.

      “And I thought I asked you to wear something glamorous!” He looked me up and down, scowling at my tan sheath dress and black pumps. I had been going for classy, understated and ‘the woman behind the man’ as he appeared to want for this shin dig. I guess I got it wrong. Should have worn the LBD like everyone else. Boring!

      I don’t usually read people so poorly. Generally, I get either a good feeling or a bad feeling, and can pretty well trust my instincts. In this business, there are few people that surprise me, and most of the feelings are bad. Andrew’s exception is that he fooled me, convinced me he was a poor little rich kid, with unfulfilled dreams, that we would be a great team.

      Why am I even doing this?!

      Because you can cash in on your God-given assets, and get a jump start on your acting career, that’s why! I remind myself, letting out a sigh, noticing a gull swooping around the alley, looking for torn garbage bags spilling French fries to tuck into.

      “What was that for?” Andrew spits at me.

      “You’re selfish in bed!” I spit right back, at the very moment the gull releases a poo bomb that hits Andrew on the side of the head, dribbling into his ear.

      I smile.

    • Noellin says:

      ‘You don’t have to worry about her Sarah, she is only the house help and i’m going to tell you over and over again that nothing is going on between us, when would you learn to trust me?
      Sarah looked at him in the eyes again, this time she looked confused and didn’t know if she can still trust him.
      ‘But i saw it with my own eyes, this time it’s not like someone told me, you grabbed her arms and pulled her closer to you in a sexual way Ben.
      ‘I was only asking her why she stopped doing my laundry’. Ben interrupt.
      ‘What laundry? Said Sarah with anger and hatred, and that is why you pulled her so closed to you, grabbing her bum? Your story is not convincing Ben, try harder mostly when i know your history’. Folding her arms, rolled her eyes in total disbelief gesture. ‘Once a cheater is alway a cheater, now can you leave, i’ve got things to do. She said trying to close the door behind him.
      ‘Is this why you’re not coming to the event with me tonight? because of some dirty illiterate house girl?, common Sarah, this is my big night for crying out loud and i want you by my side when i pick up this award, stop being childish for once.
      Sarah sighed. ‘Ben please go, i’m really confuse when it comes to you sometimes, i need to think about where we are going with this relationship. She took a long breath, ‘ with you banging your house girl is seriously the last straw for me.
      ‘Sarah i love you’. Ben quickly said. ‘Did you hear me, i love you and you are the one i’m presenting to the whole world and that is all that matters, doesn’t that mean anything to you?

    • Kaia Jules says:

      Hi Mary,
      Just a quick note from the most magnificent deserts of Oman. I am currently traveling and searching for new inspiration. Even though I do not have access to the Internet on a daily basis I still find a way to read your posts. I’ve said it before and I will say it again, you are such an inspiration! Keep up the amazing work you are doing!

    • Hello Mary,

      This is nice post with images. This is really writing prompt.I love your described way.

      Thank you,

    • Thalma Williams says:

      Brad’s deception had to be effective.

      “Let me in because I’m not leaving. Come on Rachel!” After a long minute, the door opened. Brad stepped inside. “Why are you acting like this? You were fine with this all along. You can’t just decide to back out now!”

      Last night’s wine helped Rachel act as if all was fine. But today she couldn’t hide her disappointment.

      “I changed my mind,” she said cooly. “I told you I’m not going.” She folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes.

      Brad took a deep breath, “Rache, you’re being ridiculous. My sister passes the bar once and we celebrated your birthday last night…”

      “I appreciated dinner and the earrings”, she interrupted. “Really. And I know this is a special night for your sister. So go be with your family. I’ll be fine.”

      Breaking the silence, Brad pushed on, “I got it! Let’s show up, say our congrats, and leave. They won’t notice. Then we’ll do what you want. Please get dressed.” He kissed her forehead.

      Rachel’s arms fell to her sides, “You always know how to get to me..”

      On the way to the event Rachel told herself tomorrow she would make Brad tell her “yah” or “nay” to marriage, and if “nay” she would be on her way. She also promised she would never reveal how crushed she was when he didn’t propose last night during her birthday dinner. Just last week he brought her to a jewelers under the guise of helping him select earrings for his sister while a salesman had her try on rings in Brad’s view. And she found the ring! He, instead, presented her with “his sister’s” earrings. She was devastated, yet acted otherwise. Today proved harder for her to hide her true feelings. That was, until he offered the compromise.

      But she discovered Brad’s lie as soon as they arrived. This was not his sister’s party. This was their engagement party. In front of the crowd, Brad handed Rachel the ring and bent one knee.

    • How to Dance

      So begins the lesson in how to dance. “What did I do wrong this time?” he asked with a raised voice. She said nothing rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. He turned and walked away.

      As she entered the bedroom, she saw him packing an overnight bag hurriedly. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked. Suddenly, she was afraid he would really leave this time. He said nothing in response. She walked over to him and tried to embrace him. He pulled away and said, “Not this time.” She started to cry and this time he rolled his eyes. “That’s not going to work this time,” he said, “You always go too far and think your tears will save you.”

      She turned and walked away. He finished packing his bag and headed to the living room where she was waiting for him with a drink in her hand. “When did you start drinking again?” he asked. “Why do you care!” she sobbed. “You don’t really love me or you’d stay.” He sat down beside her and looked into her eyes. She looked down so he could not make eye contact.

      Both sat speechless for what seemed like an eternity. “Let’s not do this to each other.” he said as he sighed. “You always start drinking when we argue.” he said. This time she looked straight at him and yelled, “It’s all your fault! You make me drink!”

      He turned away and slowly walked out the door. Maybe he’d go to an Al-anon meeting after he checked into the hotel. For tonight, the dance of anger was over. “How many more lessons in how to dance would they have?” he thought.

    • It is enough
      – Sorry, honey, I know you expected me… tonight… It was your commencement, but…
      – No worries, it is not a big deal, after all.
      – Don’t be sarcastic, I have had a huge problem, do you know?
      – Really?
      – You realize I am dressed, I mean I am in my best clothes, just because I intended to meet you some hours ago, but…
      – What is your excuse? The last time, if I remember you had four flat tires at the same time.
      – It is worse. I have met two aliens and they put me on board…
      – Fly me to the moon…
      – Do you want to know them?
      – No, your idiot, I am singing.
      – I don`t understand, you seem happy.
      – I am happy. I have taken the more important decision in my lifetime.
      – You forgive me. You are amazing, sweetheart.
      – I have bought a gift for you. A very special one.
      – So nice. Where is it? I like the reconciliation, you know.
      – Indeed? Well, this is a invitation to the court. Tomorrow. At noon.
      – In a hotel? A courtyard?
      – Silly man, the court of law. We will get divorced.
      – Don’t close the door. Let me in. Where I suppose to sleep?
      – On the mothership, of course. Good dreams.

    • LINDA LEA says:

      THE SCENE
      By Linda Lea

      Jo Ellen wrung her hands and bit her lower lip. Where is Robert? Why doesn’t he answer his cell? Taking a deep breath, she said aloud, “I need to calm down–I’ll lose my mind if I don’t!” She stood and paced the room, keeping her eyes glued to the door. She began to feel a deep anger toward Robert. She shuttered as she recalled that horrible cocktail party, when he had refused to wear the standard attire and wore a suit and tie instead. She could have just died. Why had he been so difficult? She just wanted her friends to think that she too had married well.

      She glanced at the clock for the hundredth time and hissed, “There must be another woman!! Well, I’ll not stand for it! I won’t be here when he comes home!” Just then the door opened and there stood a smiling Robert, dressed in black tie and tails. She folded her arms and gritted her teeth. “What do you have to say for yourself??” she demanded.

      Robert asked incredulously, “What do you mean, Darling?”

      Her voice dripping with venom, Jo Ellen related to him how she had suffered emotionally all evening and had ultimately realized what he was up to, and now she was leaving him. She ended her rant with a triumphant “So there! Hah!”

      Shaking his head, Robert sighed and explained, “Dear, it’s Valentine’s Day, so after work I headed to a flower shop, but en route my car died. I tried to call you but my phone battery was down. By the time I got the car running again, the florist had closed. I drove to a tux rental store and rented this monkey suit to take you out on the town tonight. I hoped it would show you how much I really love you.”

      Jo Ellen exclaimed, “Oh, Robert, my love, I’m so ashamed! Can you ever forgive me?’

      “Of course I can, Sweetie,” Robert cooed softly, as he held her in his arms and thought to himself, “What a ditz I married!”

      • trent glenn says:

        If I had to come home to that nightly.I’d probably divorce her .Couldn’t stand the accusing.It would drive me crazy!

    • “Is it true Stef?” George confused.
      I tightly folded my arms as if I never heard George. Why his here? He will waste his time.
      “Stef, look at me. Did you ever think what are the consequences may bring?”
      “I know George, but that’s my decision and that’s final.”
      “Alright. Alright. I left my appointment today just to come here and that’s what I’ve heard from you?
      “What do you want George?”
      “Where’s the Stef I’ve known before? A woman with a high spirit to conquer? A woman who never surrender in spite of difficulties? That’s not the Stef I’ve known 10 years ago.”
      I love to hear when George says this thing to me. He is the only one who can lift up my spirit to do unusual thing, but this time I can’t listen to him.
      “George, you’re wasting your time. Thank you for your concern, Bye.”
      I’m trying to close the door but George is too stiff. I’m helpless.
      My tears fall and I can’t hold on anymore the pain in my heart. George is my bestfriend since we were 10. He is my ever encourager, my comforter and my motivator. He brings joy in my heart whenever I’ll think of our memories together. I love him but I’m afraid he loves me as a friend. That is 10 years ago and still I love him. After George passed the doctorate and became the Director in a big company, I never heard from him since then. And now, here he is! In front of me begging not to let go of this child I’m carry. Yes, I wanted to abort this unwanted baby. I don’t let this baby grow and know this cruel world like what I am suffering now.
      “Stef, I’m willing. I’m willing to be a father for the child.” George fall his tears.
      “No George, your help in the past is enough. Don’t bother my problem anymore. This is the best way George.”
      “Stef, I love you since the day I lay my eyes on you. I’m sorry if this cause you so much trouble. I’m afraid. That night, when I saw you and Ella go into the bar. That night, when I saw you cry. I want to be there to hug you, but I don’t have the courage to draw near to you that’s why I’m just watching you and waiting for perfect timing to approach. Until you and Ella drunk and you cannot stand. I am there to assist. Ella recognized me and she entrusted you to me. That night is the night I will never forget. And I’m so excited and happy to know that you carry my baby, our baby.”

    • Jozzy Steffen says:

      “…I bought that burial plot for me and only me,” Dylan stormed to the door. “C’mon you can’t honestly stand there and think that I bought one for you too? Good God Falicity, we’re not even together anymore, get it through your thick brain.” Falicity sighed loudly playing along, and quickly glanced up at the time. She couldn’t argue right now. She had to meet Gwen at The Dandelion Boutique.
      “Do you even hear me? Do you understand where I’m coming from? You are not part of me and never will be, so just leave me alone!” Dylan stormed out and quickly slammed the large wooden door behind him so she wouldn’t follow.
      Falicity still staring blindly at her clock sensed it was time. Realizing going back was not an option, the black pit of hell they called Pitchfork State Hospital would have to go on without her. Having her burial spot was much more important, and to be with Dylan and his family meant the world to her. They always treated her better than her own family. You can’t replace good family.
      “Just last week there were two plots right where Dylan showed me, I checked…” Falicity recalling to herself. He showed her the family’s but then where his was picked out, there happened to be an open spot just to the north of his. They were beautiful and she had plans dammit. Plans that included the two of them together forever.
      In a gleeful light-footed dance across her kitchen, she grabbed her keys and said her goodbyes to her iguana, Zelda. She quickly looked her little apartment over with a hint of regret on her way out and locked her apartment up tight. “Here we go.”
      Not a single thought in her head about what had just happened with Dylan. It didn’t matter, she was on her way to meet Gwen to get this show on the road. Gwen has the lethal drug for them. She fished her cell out of her purse and dialed up her friend.
      “Gwen? It’s me, it’s a go.”

    • Chris Eire says:

      “This tuxedo’s the most expensive thing that’s ever been in here,” said Barry, his face reddening. Angela rolled her eyes.

      “You’re kicking me out, you, a hotel waitress, you know how many girls would kill to be you?”

      “I’m a real twenty first century Cinderella,” Angela said, sick at the sight of him, just wanting him to leave already. It had been a bit of fun for a while. The few nights of luxury and excess; the limo rides and sparkling gifts; that one night adrift in a white yacht on a calm sea under a million beautiful points of starlight.

      Yet, she was no man’s property, no plaything, a vending machine expected to drop candy just because he shoved in some cash. Before her was just another narcissistic hedonist who put no human value on plentiful and disposable women. What did she expect!

      Few of her dates ever got to know her father was Bobby Grazer, the retail tycoon and world’s twelfth richest man. The same Bobby Grazer who had put all his kids on a strict do-not-touch trust fund until they turned thirty. He wanted them to make it on their own, like he had, working from the ground up.

      Her two brothers both did quite well, both with respectable business success. Angela never hit the same stride. Her businesses all failed and the jobs she worked to get by became more tedious as she moved through social excess of her twenties. Working in up-scale hotel bars at least meant she could get the rich boys to show her a decent time without much trouble. She grew up with the type and knew how they ticked. Also, she was now twenty-nine years and six months old.

      “Go back to your plebeian life,” Barry said, bitterness and a whining in his getting-to-drunk slur, “Go back to your dirt and filth. I’m out of here.”

      Angela smiled and slammed the old, paint-peeling door in his ugly, spiteful face. Six months from now she could buy up his business on interest, his entire livelihood. Maybe she would. Buy it up and make a few changes.

    • David Devin says:

      Please Jill, the tickets cost $150. The Phantom of the Opera is your favorite play! We make love to the sound track. You have been talking about going for the past two weeks.”

      “But you are late and you don’t have any flowers. This is the 5thth time this month. Every time you‘re late you have a different story. So don’t even bother to tell me one. I made it quite clear last night, you have to be on time and with at least one red rose in your hand or I will not go out with you! Do you not remember me saying that?”

      “Please Jill; you will have a wonderful evening. I will take you to the Columbia Tower Club afterwards and then we will come back here for two hours making love to the Phantom of the Opera in the new silk sheets that I just bought you.”

      “Listen Jack, you know how much I would enjoy the play, you know how much I would enjoy the Columbia Tower Club and the spectacular view of Seattle. And I am sure you will have me in the mood for love. But why do you always make me so upset at the beginning of our dates? Why can’t you respect me enough to be on time and bring me at least one rose?”

      “Why do you always have to be so demanding? You know how hard I work. If I am a bit late from leaving the office it is because I am making good money. Don’t you understand that?”

      “It’s because you told me that you do not like nagging women. So I will never nag you. I have rules like your mother has rules and if you break my rules, you will be punished. So now you have a choice. I want a $50 fine or you can go home and call me tomorrow to apologize for breaking my rules. Next time you will be on time with at least one red rose in your hand. So what will it be Jack?”

    • Hello! I tried to re-post my contribution a second time and the site advised me I’d already submitted but I have never seen it here. Would you please check for me to see if I’ve made an error or if it’s as you said, held up in spam filter?
      Thanks so much,
      patti

    • David says:

      ‘Come on Helen, please. It’s still not too late to go and get ready. I came early hoping you would change your mind…’
      ‘You expect me to go and put my Prom dress on, and in the process forgive you, in the space of time it’s going to take me to get ready?’
      ‘Yes… please?’
      ‘I don’t want to be rushed. I won’t be rushed! And anyway, why should I go with you and be embarrassed again?’
      ‘Because I promise it won’t happen again. It was a mistake. It meant nothing to me; she means nothing to me. I won’t embarrass you again. And no one knows except those at your next door neighbours’ barbecue.’
      ‘Then how did it happen? Why did it happen?’ She folded her arms more securely across her chest and pouted unhappily, looking at him from under her long lashes.
      He sighed heavily. His heart was breaking. She was so beautiful and he had been so stupid… letting the nether parts of his body dictate his actions that night… ‘I suppose it was because we had both been drinking. You were there; you were at the party too! You know there was lots of booze around!’
      ‘So does that mean that whenever you have too much to drink… you are going to let me down?’
      He shook his head. ‘No…, no, of course not! And in my mind I have decided never to drink so much again… I can’t trust myself… Helen, I know I have hurt you very much and it is destroying me! I need you!’
      ‘Destroying you? Why does it always have to be about the man?’ She threw her arms around and turned away before facing him again. ‘Why is it…, when a man cheats on his girl… then he makes excuses and is worried about how he is going to live without her? He thinks about his needs! I am the one who has been betrayed! What about what I need? After all, how do I trust anybody ever again when it’s my own mother that has hit on my boyfriend?’

    • Kaia Jules says:

      “He adored me. My dear sweet Ray loved me madly — every string of my hair, every irregular feature on my face, each straying freckle on my soft, supple skin. He loved my cold, sorrowful, selfish heart. Persistently. And I wanted to love him back. I really did. I desperately tried to awaken the long forgotten passion that brought me to him.

      I remember the moment we met and how much I enjoyed making a scene in front of others. Before I married him, I stood clear by the thought that men would permanently pass me by if I continued to live as a lonesome dame or someone’s concubine. So, I had to choose between the two men who adored me infinitely — Ray, my greatest admirer, and his handsome colleague and faithful friend Carl, with whom I spent endless nights of lovemaking every time Ray and I would break up or have a fight.

      At that very moment I knew I wanted Ray. I wanted his future, his security. I despised his temper but I walked tall, thinking of his poor, naive heart left at my mercy, my compassion and cruelty, my love for him. Finally, I turned to him and smiled. The sigh of relief and a prize-winning smirk on his face told me that, once again, he was mine.”

    • Timothy Cole says:

      I posted a short story in compliance with the above requirements. It was before 3 am CST on February 15th. I was hoping it would have shown itself by now, but I suppose if you have twelve submissions in two and a half hours, it could mean you just don’t have room for all of them. Nevertheless, I was hoping to see mine by now. How do I know it was a successful post? (I named it Jeremy and Janice).

      • Hi Timothy, I can see your story in one of the comments. Just look through all the comments and you’ll see it 🙂

        You ask: “I know it was a successful post?”

        Every story here is successful because it was published on WritetoDone for all to see.

        If you mean the big contest that we may be going to run on WritetoDone – that is going to be a long-short story contest with stories between 10,000 and 50,000.

        We’re hoping to be able to say more soon …!

    • Sam says:

      Zeus and Hera, accustomed to fighting, didn’t find it odd when the latch on the door closed behind them. Despite their celestial powers, the sound of a click escaped them as it slipped between their daggered eyes, glaring at each other and the sparks flew (quite literally, of course, didn’t you know that the heat of a god’s anger can light up the sun for a full forty days?)
      Did he think that she couldn’t smell the effusion of Demeter on his skin? The scent of the harvest moon? The fertility of the earth? She could sense the lies on his snakish tongue and the crinkle of his mighty brows. They told her what he wouldn’t admit.
      To his credit, when she had found out about Persephone, she had flooded the world with a thousand oceans. It was enough to make Poseidon weep until Zeus placated him with slave ships. Crunchy with the taste of sweaty, human flesh was always enough to make him shut up.
      Hera was determined to burn the skies this time. She would bake it into a crisp until all Demeter’s precious crops would wither away and she, herself, with it.
      Ignoring his anguish, mustering up her supreme majesty, she turned to undertake her vengeance.
      And found that she was locked in.
      “Ooooh clever Demeter!” Hera screamed, “When I get my hands on you, there will be hell to pay!”

    • Suzi Sandoval says:

      Ok. I cut and pasted my story but I don’t see it. What did I do wrong?

    • Suzi Sandoval says:

      As soon as the last guest left, Blaze Anaya settled his mother, Sofia, comfortably in her room, then headed out to the old bungalow to meet Silk. His dad, Cabrillo Anaya, met Silk three years ago and without regards for Sofia, divorced her, and married his twenty-six-year old lover, Silk. Now Cab was dead.
      Blaze had a fight on his hands. Silk stood at the door, a scowl on her face and arms crossed asserting her fortune as Cab’s wife. Cab had amassed a fortune in the cattle industry of New Mexico.
      “It’s over Silk, my dad’s funeral is done and you didn’t have the decency to attend.” Her face relaxed. A quick smirk crossed her face.
      “I didn’t want to be around your sniveling mother. She’s weak and so pathetic. Besides, Cab’s friends didn’t give me a chance. They were fast to judge me.”
      “Silk, you took my mom’s husband and turned him into an absolute idiot. You’re disgusting.”
      “Blaze leave, just leave. Get off my property, now!” She placed her hand on his chest and shoved. Caught off guard, Blaze stumbled back.
      Eyes livid, he retorted, “You’ve got nothing Silk. It all belongs to mother. You’re the one that needs to leave.”
      “We’ll see about that.”
      Silk crossed her arms, held her head high, “I may not have been at the funeral, but I will be at the reading of the will tomorrow.”
      Blaze pointed a finger at her, don’t bother, Dad didn’t leave you a dime. All you get is the rock on your finger and the silver Ferrari you drive.
      “Really Blaze, you think I put up with the old bastard for a diamond and car?” She arched her eyebrows.
      “I got what I want.” Silk held up a manila envelope, “23 thousand acres of mineral rights—mining starts as soon as the will is read.” She puckered up her lips, “mma.”
      Blaze slapped his thigh, threw back his head and roared with laughter.
      “You fool. You have a worthless piece of paper. Dad lost the mineral rights to a gambling debt decades ago.”

    • I Blew It!
      By Dave Barkey
      “Listen, Julie, I cannot believe what a fool I made of myself. I am so sorry I offended you.”
      “Why is it when you surround yourself with four or more guys, you insist on entertaining them with your dumb jokes?”
      “They aren’t always as dumb as the one I launched last night. You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt. I wish I could throw away the tape of last night’s episode.”
      “Words are like that. You can’t swallow them after you have spit them out.”
      Chuck hung his head when Julie grabbed another tissue to wipe the tears streaming down her cheeks.
      “That story was so funny when I heard it the other day. I knew the guys would get a kick out of it. I just could not remember the punch line to save my neck. Now my neck is in a noose.”
      “It sure is, and I’m about to kick the stool out from under you to see you hang.”
      “When you hear the story how it was supposed to be told, you will understand how I messed it up.”
      “I bet. Let me hear it.”
      Chuck cleared his throat and reached for Julie’s hand. “Here goes. This guy tells his friend, ‘The best years of my life I spent in the arms of another man’s wife.’ The other fellow gasped and asked, ‘Who was that?’ And the fellow answered, ‘My mother.’”
      “That’s it? That’s what you were supposed to say?”
      “Yeah. Isn’t that funny?”
      “So, how could you forget that? Why would you say what you did?”
      Chuck dropped his gaze to Julie’s feet. “I don’t know, Sweetheart. I don’t know.”
      Julie sobbed. “When the guys asked you, ‘Who was it?’ you said, ‘I can’t remember her name.’ What am I supposed to think when you tell your friends that the best years of your life you spent in the arms of another man’s wife and you can’t even remember her name?”
      “Julie, it was just a joke.”
      “Yes. Well the joke is on you.”

    • April Schwartz says:

      “Look, I’ve been studying these people for years now. I’m sure this is right.”
      “No, you’re going to blow it. You’re way too formal. Besides, you won’t match me.”
      “It’s not always about you, whatever you’ve been getting of their culture. It’s me who is going to get the award. I’ll be the one who’ll be standing up in front of at least a thousand people. I know that sounds puny to you, but they count it as a pretty big deal.”
      “You’re taking their ‘clothes makes the man’ thing too much to heart. I’m pretty sure that was a twentieth century slogan—people are dressing w-a-a-y down now. I’m positive a simple well tailored suit is more suitable. You’re going to look as if you’re overreaching, and then there’s ten years of our hard work down the drain.”
      “Last time I listened to you, you got me into business casual, remember? I nearly washed out of the initial interview. A few more errors like that and we’ll be out on these cute little ears of ours.”
      “Glad you find them so cute. Mine aren’t acute well, muffled with all of this itchy hair. I’ll be glad when this assignment is over and we can get back to looking and speaking normally. But this is all besides the point. We’ve poured you into the best boyish shell that Xootho could fabricate, and this whole project goes down the tubes if you insist on jeopardizing it with that costume.”
      “I think it’s called regalia.”
      “Show off. I had a feeling that you got the better processor.
      “Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.”
      “What? I’m pretty sure that’s for a different country. A penny is not a unit of weight, a pound is not a coin. Does not compute.”
      “We’d better get going while we can still think straight.”
      “Stink trait? Is that an earth joke?”
      “Uh oh. Houston, I think we have a worse problem here than clothing.”

    • Doreen says:

      Suzie’s mind was made up.
      This farce has got to stop, she thought. Simon was definitely cramping her style and had to go, date night or not!
      She heard his car pull up in the driveway and hurried to stand behind the door.

      As he approached her door, Simon checked his breath. Just to be double sure he thought smiling. Before he could knock, Suzie opened the door.

      ‘Who’s my favourite girl’, he enthused, reaching out to pull her into his arms but Suzie stepped back.

      Cocking his head aside with a smile on his lips, he asked,’am I late?’
      ‘No’, he answered glancing at his watch and stepping into the apartment.
      ‘What’s wrong, love?’

      ‘I am done’, Suzie replied.

      ‘You’re done’, re-echoed Simon. Smiling and shaking his head, he said ‘Come on, what kind of a joke is that? If we don’t leave like right now, we would miss our reservation’.

      Suzie folded her arms.

      ‘Alright, I am laughing….hahahaa….better now?’, Simon said.

      ‘I am serious, said Suzie. I am done. We, indicating the two of them, are done.’

      ‘Suzieee!, okay tell me, What did I do?…or didn’t do? Talk to me’.

      ‘Look Simon, you were a bet okay and it was quite simple. I was to turn you from a geek to a catch and I did.
      Yes we had some fun times but right now, my fiancee is in town and I need to be with him. Period! You have got to go.

      Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had always loved her and somehow, everyone knew. They told him she was out of his league but when she asked him out, he knew she loved him or didn’t she?

      ‘I don’t understand Suzie, you can’t do this, you love me’.

      ‘You must be a joker, loverboy. I really don’t have time for this, okay. Jude, will be here any minute. You have to leave.

    • Lana says:

      The balcony door opening cornered Shayna against the wall. A feeling she hadn’t felt in a year. She thought the life of looking over her shoulder, never trusting anyone and sleeping with a baseball bat was over. But she would never forget those eyes and that voice!
      “What the hell just happened in there?” Wes asked peering around the door.
      “I see the last years hunting trip has been successful.” Shayna crossed her arms. Daddy bear has taught his cub well because you sure had me fooled. I admit your tall toned body, curly brown hair and boyish charms really worked. You turned the butterflies of my survival instinct into butterflies of love. How could I be so stupid?”
      “I have no bloody idea what you’re talking about.”
      “Why don’t you have the same name as your Dad? Why did you wait a year for me to meet him? Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?” Shayna’s shock turned to fury causing nausea and dizziness as Wes’s father pushed past him stepping onto the balcony. Their eyes met neither one blinking. “You bastard, I wish I had a gun. I would shoot you both.”
      “Well Cassandra, you’re the spit image of your mother. Imagine my surprise at your reaction to meeting me. I thought you were too young to remember.”
      “You two know each other? Remember What?”
      “Remember the face of the mobster’s dirty lawyer that gunned down a family and left a little girl in witness protection until a year ago. Remember the voice that said, “You understand it’s just business.” smiling as his pray fell to the floor dead.
      “Dad, say something! Tell her she’s wrong!” Wes stepped between Shayna and his dad pleading with him. “Please tell her she’s mistaken!”
      Years of fear, rage and sorrow filled Shayna. She lunged forward , never taking her eyes off the killers’, with what seemed like little effort, pushed Wes’ back forcing him and his father over the balcony of the cruise ship into the icy waters of the ocean, killing them as easily as Wes’s father had killed her parents.

    • Gena says:

      “Wait a minute,” Shaun whispered. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry.”

      “You think apologizing is just going to make everything all great again?” Carly cared far less about secrecy. The fact that Shaun put his hands up trying to shush her made her want to be louder. “I can’t believe you did that.”

      “Well, I technically didn’t do anything.”

      “But you wanted to. I know you wanted to.”

      “How could you know what I’m thinking? I promise you, I didn’t do anything.”

      She scoffed. “That’s not what Aunt Liz said. She said you’ve been grabbing her and finding ways to touch her all night.”

      “Your aunt’s a damned liar.”

      “I saw you with her in the bathroom!”

      “Keep your voice down.” He motioned with his hands. “Seriously, no one needs to hear about this. Your family was so excited to learn we were engaged.”

      “You were making out with her. If we were here after her surgery to change her into a woman, you wouldn’t have even thought twice before cheating on me.”

      “How was I supposed to know your favorite uncle wanted to be a woman?”

      “What does that have to do with anything? How many others have there been?”

      Shaun took in a deep breath. “I love you, Carly. I only love you.”

      “This has been a real eye opener for me. I need some air.” Carly walked toward the door to head outside.

      Shaun turned back to the party. They were all staring at him. Liz was standing in the middle of room waiting for a response.

      Shaun cleared his throat. “Uncle Bill, you look so amazing. What are your plans after your… uh, operation?”

    • Elliot says:

      A foot of air was all that was standing between his bow tie and my freshly manicured nails. This air, unlike what it should be, was full of one-sided blame and manipulation.

      Just heartbeats before he exploded, I told him he looked handsome in his suit; the suit his mom helped him pick out. The suit I helped him starch and iron. The suit that made him respectable in the eyes of his colleagues at the law firm.

      Even though I vowed to love and respect him til death do us part, the pillar of respect I was supposed to bow down to each day was disintegrating. Every time he told me it was all my fault and I never measured up, a chunk of respect fell to the ground, shattered to dust, and blew away in the wind.

      As I laid in bed that night, I revisited the evening’s argument; an argument that started because his cuff links needed polished. According to him, I should have thought ahead. I didn’t care enough about him to anticipate his need for cuff links. I am a clown, and I only think about myself.

      He’s wrong of course, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell him I hoped that, just for a night, we would be the couple we pretend to be; that couple who is happy because he’s rich and powerful, and she’s beautiful and adoring.

      But instead of a pleasant night together, we had an argument. Argument is really too generous. Argument implies that I fought back. In truth, it was abuse.

      I shudder at the mention of abuse. Abuse is supposed to be physical; a black eye, a broken pinky, a cigarette burn. But he’s never hurt me. He is much too cunning for that.

      Once again I was to blame. The ill-prepared cuff links were a physical manifestation of my inability to be a good wife. So, I apologized, smiled sweetly, and polished those cuff links, all the while, withering away like that almighty pillar of respect, eroding in the storm of our destructive marriage.

    • Mark Wilson says:

      He says, “I beg you please move with me or get behind me and push. I can’t do this without you. I really need your help.”
      “How will it work?” She asks and continues, “What about the kids? We’ll have to drag them along with us. Won’t be complete picture without them. We have our business too. I don’t see how it can work.”
      “There are so many omens that this must be the right way for us to go”, he says.
      She says, “Don’t give me that JFK shit again.”
      He says, “That’s just the clearest day in my life ever. I remember the motorcycle cops just about running us down. I was in the street. The Kennedy’s were so close I could almost touch them. There has to be some rhythm to this thing called life. There must be a reason for experiencing all our events. “
      They pause. He takes her drink and finishes it.
      “I was Fr. Huber’s altar boy that very morning. It’s all kind of eerie,” he says.
      “It’s like some weird spiritual connection, you think?” she asks.
      “Who do you think our son is the reincarnate of?” He says shaking his head with woe.
      Laughing, she starts choking a bit. He takes the bottle from the table and pours a long pull. She takes it down.
      “And your evidence for such a claim counselor?” she torts sarcastically.
      “It’s simple math”, he says. “Check out the dates. He was born on the…
      She finishes, “Fourth of July.” She continues, “That’s just a fluke.”
      “And my birthday is?” He asks. It hangs in space.
      She reacts chilled not liking where this is going.
      “US Constitution Day”, he says. “Since the past and future are in the here and now, there is no time like present.”
      “So what are you doing?” she asks.
      “I can’t get my mettle pounded without a hammer and anvil.” he says. “A rigorous obstacle course will test my instincts.
      She says, “I hope it won’t smell.”

    • Carol Garland says:

      “What do you mean she won’t come out? We’re supposed to be getting married.”

      “All I know is, she said she won’t come out.”

      “Is anyone in there with her?”

      “Just her mother.”

      “Oh, no. That’s not good.”

      “What? She’s upset and her mother’s with her. What’s wrong with that?”

      “Well, how about, I’m her fiance and if she’s upset, she should be with her future husband. Her mother is just going to … Let’s just say she really doesn’t like me. There’s some rich guy she thinks Nancy would be better off with, and her mother is relentless. Do you know what set her off?”

      “Nancy, you mean? I think it was just one of those little things, like place cards or napkins or something.”

      “Yet somehow her mom will work this around to being my fault. OK, out of the way, I’m going in.”

      “No, she doesn’t want to see you right now.”

      “Don’t much care. Get out of my way. Nancy? Nancy, I’m coming in. Gigi said you were upset.”

      “No, go away, I don’t want to talk to you.” Nancy sounded stuffed-up; clearly she’d been crying.

      “That’s not how it works, Nancy. You can’t just shut me out if we’re getting married.”

      “Can too. My make-up is all messed up and my mascara is running. I have to start over.”

      “Do you really think I care about that right now?”

      “John, you go away right now,” said another voice inside the room.

      “Mrs. Harris, no. I’m supposed to be Nancy’s husband in a few minutes, and you don’t get to come between us.”

      “You’re not married yet, so just go away,” Mrs. Harris said.

      “Nancy?”

      “What?”

      “Pick.”

      “What? Pick what?”

      “Me or your mother. Pick. We’re not getting married for a three-way.”

      “What are you talking about, a three-way. That’s gross.”

      “No, ‘gross’ is not the issue. No question: it is. But I’m not marrying your mother. I already know that. So you have to decide: are you marrying me? Or do you want to cleave only unto your mom for the rest of your life?”

    • Robert McManus says:

      Enjoyed this exercise. I am eager to see how others handled it.

      The black-tie dinner is due to start with cocktails in thirty minutes. Andy arrives at Meredith’s apartment only to find that she is not dressed for the formal occasion.
      “What’s up with that dress? We should be leaving now, and you’re not ready!”
      “You’re the who’s not ready, not ready to give me the space I need!”, Meredith sharply replies.
      “You bring this up now?” he asks.
      “Yes! I am tired of you dictating my every move! None of this is about us! It’s all and always
      about what you need! About what you want! Never once do ask me or include me in these decisions!” Meredith angrily retorted.
      “Bullshit! You know what this dinner means to my promotion! You know that bringing a wife or girlfriend is expected!”
      “Well, I’m not so sure I’m the one, but I’m damned sure not the other! Get out of my doorway, or I’m calling the cops!”
      “Call the cops? No! Just get dressed and come on!”
      “You’re not just unaware, but you don’t listen!”, as she shoved him hard in the chest and slammed the door. Andy drove his fist into the door panel, cracking the wood and a couple of knuckles. Jerking back his arm, he put the injured hand into the opposite armpit. Tears of pain and anger welled in his eyes.
      Andy stumbled down to the ground floor and briefly took a look at his hand. The first two knuckles were swollen and purplish, the hand throbbed painfully. The doorman hailed a taxi, Andy seated himself in the back and told the driver to take to the nearest hospital.
      Meanwhile, Meredith still shook with anger and some fear. Was this right?, she thought. Am I scared of what Andy will do next, or am I simply undone by the emotional part? She walked about the three room apartment several minutes more calming herself with the fact that she had taken a stand, hadn’t given in to him. This was starting to feel really good. She’d gained an insight. Things will be different from now on.

    • “I feel sick. The stress is getting to me. Do you have Pepto Bismol?”

      I looked at the sky. Could this man breathe on his own?

      “Where are my socks?”

      “Where are your socks usually?” I asked, walking to the drawer where he had kept his socks since moving in. I handed him a pair and straightened his tie.

      He walked out, slamming into the door in the process. “I will never be an usher at a wedding again. It’s too stressful.”

      I sighed in relief. His tux disappeared into the garage. I had our apartment to myself. When Ellen told me her brother needed a place to stay, I thought he would be a good choice, but I knew now — “I have to find a new roommate.” I like children, but I prefer them little.

    • Diana says:

      – It’s the same crap over and over again! You were seducing her!
      – No, she was seducing me…
      – Oh yes, of course. Poor guy, a true victim of sexual harassment…
      – If you don’t believe me, there’s really little I can do. But the truth is… you’re the one that I love. You! Do you understand?
      – Me and a bunch of whores! You really can’t keep that dick inside your pants…
      Stella and Charles were having an argument. No news, since they were always fighting. How different from the first years of marriage, from the sweet words, the sugary kisses… But now, five years later, they didn’t even have a conversation, just screaming, blaming and spitting horrible words at each other.
      Do you think he knew? Probably not… Charles was never at home, always working or playing golf with his friends. Everything was so much more important; it seemed he always waited for her to go to sleep to finally come home. Avoiding talking to her as much as he could, but she didn’t want to talk to him anyway…
      The small conversations they had were as sterile as her womb. Not that a child would change anything, there was no love anymore, just the carnival of interests both had in keeping everything like it was.
      No problem, she was loved… a secret, troubled, controversial love. He was a kid, ignorant of all things; he loved her despite the age difference. She had taught him everything he knew about loving and be loved and he was always so eager to learn more. In his naivety he never questioned about her husband, her life, her masquerade… He just wanted to be with her. Such a light wind compared to the heavy life of the rich and famous.
      They would love each other in secret hotels; Stella would never dare to go public with him, but that day on the beach, walking in the sand under the cold winter day… that day was special…

    • Adam says:

      He had never known her to be late. Not only was she late, but she was really late. Too late for it to be make-up and hair trouble. Too late for it to be traffic. His mind raced. His face was frozen in an awkward half-smile. He tried to remember what calm looked like. Finally he couldn’t stand there any longer. Bridget was late and he needed to know why.

      Sean left his post by the altar and raced back up the aisle he had expected her to walk down nearly an hour ago. His pulse quickened with every chime of the wedding bells. This should all have been over with by now, he thought. We should be on our way to the bar by now – celebrating.

      The door to the chapel swung open with a shriek. In their long history the hinges had never been asked to do their jobs so vigorously. She was startled by the sound. She had been thinking about how good she looked in her golden dress and how her hair and make-up were just right. Not too trashy, but enough to advertise her availability. But mostly she had been thinking about how all of this would ruin her chances of meeting a decent man today.

      Sean had known her his entire life and never could he remember her looking more beautiful. Remembering his purpose he moved closer too her.

      “Where is she Andrea?”

      Sean shouted through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by emotion but trying to keep as quiet as he could. The hinges, feeling overworked, only slowly closed the door to the congregation. Sean felt their eyes upon him and knew that they would all be straining to listen.

      Andrea spoke clearly and calmly now that the hinges had finished their duty.

      “I’m so sorry Sean, but she’s gone”.

      “How can I explain this to Adam?” he whispered, forgetting about the door.

      “Come I’ll help you.” she said. Grabbing his arm she slowly opened the door.

      Walking up the aisle she thought, maybe her chances weren’t completely ruined. But Adam’s are.

    • Gillian says:

      “Angie, would you please listen to me for one blasted minute,” cried James.
      Angie folded her arms tight across her body and stared off into the distance, already bored with whatever excuse he was going to dish up.
      “Yes, I was at that fancy restaurant. No, I didn’t see blabbermouth Lucy. Yes, I was with another lady. Yes, her name is Sophie. Yes, she is blonde and has blue eyes.” James paused and raked his fingers through his hair. “Angie, I care about you very deeply and I am fully committed to this relationship we’ve started. The only reason I haven’t told you about Sophie is because I want you to meet her, not just hear about her. I want to show you off to her and her off to you.”
      “Have you lost all sense of morality?” Angie’s slow choked words were a blazing warning. This had gone far enough. She had made up her mind about his infidelity and nothing would convince her that this was a lie. James’ idealistic first meeting between his daughter and his new girlfriend popped like a water balloon overhead.
      “Angie, I am sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” James half turned and signaled for someone in his car to come over. The door opened and two little black patent leather shoes popped into view, followed by a midnight blue party dress Angie would have given anything to have when she was five. Blonde ringlets bobbed as the little girl skipped towards James until she grabbed hold of his hand.
      “Angie, this is Sophie, my dinner date.”

    • Donna Harper says:

      Play Your Cards Right

      ‘Come on love, you know what it’s like,’ Uri pleaded.

      Gabby ignored him, glaring into the distance. Her heaving chest told him all he needed to know. Sighing, Uri’s shoulders sagged as his heart broke – she was the love of his life, he couldn’t leave it, not like this. Desperately wanting her to be happy for him, he tried again.

      ‘But you knew it would be like this, Gabs. Tell me you didn’t.’

      He reached out to touch her hand. She pulled away from him, folding her arms protectively under her breasts. That hurt. This had been her idea. He knew she must have known this would be the outcome. If not this, then…his eyes widened as it dawned on him. The flush creeping up Gabby’s neck told him she’d seen the realisation in his eyes. Shame flashed across her face.

      ‘You…you didn’t think this would work. Did you?’ The accusation in his eyes burned deep. ‘You thought they’d laugh and throw me out again.’ He searched her face for some sign, any sign, that he was wrong.

      Instead, she stood her ground. Thrusting out her chin, Gabby looked him straight in the eye. Her breath hitched as she struggled for the words.

      ‘You wanted this so badly.’ Her eyes welled up and she swiped at them. ‘You were driving me nuts – it’s all you’d talk about. I figured, what the heck, we had nothing to lose. There wasn’t a chance in a million they’d let you back in. I thought – maybe, if you found that out, you’d quit going on about it and we could get on with living our lives.’ She sniffed back tears.

      ‘Times change.’ His words came out in a hoarse whisper. ‘They were your words: “Times change. Play your cards right and the other Archangels might let you back in,” you said.’

      She looked at him and their eyes locked. In silent agreement they nodded – it was inevitable. God’s will. Ignoring his hand, Gabriel turned and walked away. Uriel watched her leave then returned to Michael, Raphael and the game.

    • Terence Verma says:

      Mary, I posted my story but I don’t see it anywhere?

    • Christene says:

      The Saddest Song

      The saddest song a man can sing is the same one in the same tune to the same lady fair. The song is playing now, yet again from the swift lips of Paris Bourdine to the sore ears of Madelynn Grimson.
      Madelynn has often promised she would not continue to entertain the likes of another disappointment shaded by the excuses sung out of the forgetfulness and neglect of Paris.

      This night especially, out of all others for the past two years, finds Madelynn finally standing her ground of intolerance.
      Paris has stood in this very spot many times, but somehow he senses the finality in Madelynn’s demeanor tonight. He is right.

      Despite his grand efforts to convince her, to make her understand his heart and thoughts of her and the special occasion consumed his mind today; she pushes him away from entering her home.

      Madelynn has developed a wall of resistance created by a lack of confidence, faith, and trust in Paris overtime. He has a long road of repair ahead of him to regain the heart and trust of the love of his life Madelynn.

    • Christene says:

      The Saddest Song

      The saddest song a man can sing is the same one in the same tune to the same lady fair. The song is playing now, yet againfromth the swift lips of Paris Bourdine to the sore ears of Madelynn Grimson.
      Madelynn has often promised she would not continue to entertain the likes of another disappointment shaded by the excuses sung out of the forgetfulness and neglect of Paris.

      This night especially, out of all others for the past two years, finds Madelynn finally standing her ground of intolerance.
      Paris has stood in this very spot many times, but somehow he senses the finality in Madelynn’s demeanor tonight. He is right.

      Despite his grand efforts to convince her, to make her understand his heart and thoughts of her and the special occasion consumed his mind today; she pushes him away from entering her home.

      Madelynn has developed a wall of resistance created by a lack of confidence, faith, and trust in Paris overtime. He has a long road of repair ahead of him to regain the heart and trust of the love of his life Madelynn.

    • Chris says:

      The Saddest Song

      The saddest song a man can sing is the same one in the same tune to the same lady fair. The song is playing now, yet again from the swift lips of Paris Bourdine to the sore ears of Madelynn Grimson.

      Madelynn has often promised she would not continue to entertain the likes of another disappointment,shaded by the excuses sung out of the forgetfulness and neglect of Paris.

      This night especially, out of all others for the past two years, finds Madelynn finally standing her ground of intolerance.
      Paris has stood in this very spot many times, but somehow he senses the finality in Madelynn’s demeanor tonight.

      He is right! Despite his grand efforts to convince her to understand his heart and thoughts of her and the special occasion consumed his mind today; she pushes her foot on the door to nudge him away from entering her home.

      Madelynn has developed a wall of resistance created by a lack of confidence, faith, and trust in Paris overtime. He has a long road of repair ahead of him to regain the heart and trust of the love of his life Madelynn.

    • Byju V says:

      She walked out. It seemed so abrupt. He could not remember how the fight had begun. There was no serious issue that demanded a break-up. It was a fine Sunday morning, the children were still asleep, and he was in front of the laptop, preparing the latest post for the fucking blog.
      The blog was another world, where he was not the executive, reserved, brooding, aloof, the tough task master, whom the staff had started calling ‘Hitler’ behind his back. He had overheard the nickname only recently, but it must have been doing the rounds for quite some time. He had smiled to himself, no one would have suspected that he was the ‘underdog’, the anonymous blogger, whose posts had created such a sensation. Newspapers had begun quoting from the blog when they reported about the racial discrimination that was gripping the country at a frightening pace. No reporter had even suspected that the blogger (he or she?) was a white male, who was no underdog in real life. Not even his wife had suspected.
      He was woken from the reverie by the familiar scream of anger, the high pitched shrill sound of the woman. He could not now continue, he had to slap back, as he had done ever since the first day after their honey moon, when she had started screaming at him, obviously in an effort to dominate him emotionally.
      Now what was the matter with her? Was she about to create another scene? But she was standing there, screaming at him, with a suitcase in hand, which presumably consisted of her belongings, much like the clichéd scenes of break-up in those movies. He knew it was a temporary reaction, that she would come back, she could not leave just like that, leaving her children, leaving the comfortable life, she, the unemployed (and unemployable) wretch of a woman. Yes, she would come back, she had to.
      He was calm, as he resumed composing the sharpest post yet, about the latest event of police atrocity, which was indeed a naked expression of racism that was gripping the country.

    • Alan May says:

      Personally my dear, I can inform you that I am not a pervert, the sign on the door definately said men

    • Late Again

      Angrily, Becky answered the door, eager to tell Jim just how much he had let her down. Becky looked at Jim and said, “I can hardly believe you missed our date night again”. Jim had been missing many date nights lately, as he claimed to work late at Schlosky’s bar and grill. Becky had been upset for hours steadily watching the clock, and as the car finally stopped in front of her house. Becky said to herself: “I am telling Jim I am done”. “I am tired of waiting and wondering when or if he is coming when he says he will.

      As Becky finally gave Jim an opportunity to reply to her many remarks, Jim said, “Becky I want you to understand how much I want to keep our date nights, but I have to work until I get the place cleaned up”. Jim said,” I am sorry for disappointing you, as I had intended on proposing tonight”. Then Becky began to cry, as Jim said,” well, Becky are you going to marry me? Becky smiled, as tears fell from her cheek, and answered his question,” yes Jim, I will marry you”. Jim politely bent down on one knee and officially proposed to Becky, as he arose he gently placed a gorgeous engagement ring on Becky’s finger.

      Becky smiled and said,” Jim I will marry you, but I do hope you find a better job. I want to spend as much time with you as I can”. Jim sighed, and said,” jobs are far and few in between. I will work and provide a good living for both of us: and nothing is too good for my Becky”. Then Jim said cautiously,” but Becky, you will have to be understanding, as I do not want to come home and see you upset with me. Becky replied,” Jim, I can get a job too, and the stress of having to provide for both of us will ease”. Jim angrily said,” my wife will never have to work, and I want a traditional home”. Becky said,” I will only work part time, and we can still have a traditional home life”.

    • Donna says:

      “I’m so sick of this!” thought Cami as Luke continued his rant. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts she didn’t hear him as he continued yelling.

      It was the same conversation they’d had time and time again. They’d had a reasonably nice time at the concert but she had felt his eyes on her as she sang along with the band. She had known it was coming. She had known he would accuse her of wanting to be with the lead singer.

      As long as they stayed in and the conversation focused on Luke, everything was great. But every time they went out there was a problem. With the waiter. With the guy in the ticket booth. With the cabbie. Now with the lead singer of a band covering her favorite music. A band she’d never even heard of before. It was ridiculous and this would be the last time.

      Luke was jealous. Luke was controlling. Cami wouldn’t be controlled.

      “Luke, I can’t do this any more,” she started.

      “What do you mean?” Cami felt the ire in the tone of Luke’s voice. “Are you breaking up with me? You are NOT breaking up with me. I won’t allow it.”

      “We had a good thing, Luke. But I can’t live my life under this scrutiny. I can’t live with my every move being questioned.”

      “You don’t have to,” Luke said as he disappeared into the bedroom.

      Cami gathered her things and walked towards the door of the apartment. As she opened it, she heard sobbing. Slowly she turned and walked back down the hallway. She gasped as she saw the gun.

      “I can’t lose you Cam. I’ve never had anybody. From the orphanage, to the messed up school years. You’re the only one ever who accepted me. I can’t do it without you.”

      Before she could speak, Luke fired. Cami jerked her head back in shock and fell to the floor. She knelt motionless as the neighbors ran in. It was over. And Cami would never be the same.

    • Terence Verma says:

      ‘You got to believe what I’m saying Babes’.

      It was unbelievable that Jack and Jill had reached the stage where she was losing trust in him…

      What got them there?

      It all really began when he went to a dance party looking to strike up with some female company, and a gorgeous one perhaps. The anticipation had sent his thoughts racing for the right words to say to one such that night.

      ‘What a beauty’ he gasped at the first sight of this apparition sitting all by herself. ‘Where have you been all my life girl’ he asked with an intense look in his eyes. It took the living breath went out of Jill! And, before she had time to recover they were dancing the night away together.

      It was a journey to the stars that fairy tale evening.

      Man, life had suddenly become so good.

      Their lives were a romantic blur. ‘Say you love me honey’, and ‘I love you’ were the two sole sustaining dialogues between the two lovebirds. They looked perfect together and also to each other through rose tinted glasses. To an observer, it was only too clear that they were headed for nuptials very soon.

      Marriage and the excitement of buying and settling in they’re own home served to keep away the spoilsport real life routine that was waiting to creep into their lives.

      Soon, her work and him having to spend extra hours at work was beginning to stretch their emotions. Being apart for long periods and the cooling of the initial flush of romance was not something they had bargained for when courting. That life was not one big romance, but involved the daily grind. The notion of ‘happily ever after’ was getting a reality check. Compatibility issues began to surface.

      Jack’s late return home most evenings, and his pre-occupation with work related matters were beginning to get to Jill. Her possessive nature began to work her imagination overtime. Had she become less attractive to him? Was there another woman?

      She struggled with that insecurity and Jack’s consequent irritability… things were reaching boiling point.
      Jack had better have some explanations…

    • “If you would just let me in so I can explain…”
      “Right now, I don’t want to hear your explanations. The way you disrespected your mother makes me wary of how you might treat me if I allow this relationship to go on.”
      “But you don’t understand. My mother has problems she won’t own. She can make you learn to pray in languages you did not know if you’re in the car with her. She needs to have stopped driving ten years ago, but she won’t. Today was the last straw when I saw her letting her granddaughter, who has neither license nor insurance, drive her car.”
      “You did not have to yell at her like you did. And to call her stupid was uncalled for. If I did that to my mother, she would have backhanded me under the car. You owe her an apology.”
      “Look, I did not mean to call her stupid. I’ll apologize for that, but I need to find a way to get her to stop driving before a tragedy happens. My blood pressure goes into the danger zone whenever I see her approach the car. At ninety-eight, her reflexes are way off and her judgment makes her think she can go up against a tractor trailer truck because ‘I have the right of way. He saw me coming.’ Do you realize in the last three years, she’s had nine accidents, three with bodily injuries?”
      “Well, if you are so concerned, why don’t you take her keys, or volunteer to drive her?”
      “She won’t hear of letting me drive her. She says I am too cautious, and trying to get her keys away from her is going to be like trying to baptize a cat. Please let me in.”
      “I’ll let you in, but I don’t ever want to hear you use that tone of voice with her or with me. If you do, the door will open wide enough to let you out of my life.”
      “I promise, but I don’t ever want you near her car if she’s driving.”
      “Okay. Come on in.”

    • Jeralyn says:

      “What the Fxxk, Erica? It’s my car. I’m driving it, Goddammit!”

      Avoiding Jason’s nasty, scrunched-up face, Erica fixed her oval brown eyes sideways.
      While she continued to pout, she stood frigid and still, wrapping tanned arms over her Victoria Secret’s-type body. She barely heard the gobble-gobble that came out of Jason’s screeching mouth.

      Another 10 minutes passed while the attractive couple continued with their power struggle; it assured Jason late attendance to the reception being held in his honor. Pulling his long fingers through curly locks, he wondered – how often does a guy win the Executive of the Year at my age and manage to arrive late for the party?

      “Erica, I’m leaving. Come with me or stare at the walls. I don’t give a flip.” Sure, Erica was gorgeous, but he wouldn’t allow her beauty to detain him any longer – not from the oceanfront shindig, nor from what waited outside.

      Earlier that sunny morning and accompanied by a more complacent Erica, Jason walked into a pricy Southampton showroom and purchased a 2015 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray convertible. The dealership had kept their promise and delivered the Metallic Gray vehicle to the beach house, two hours earlier. The new ride had yet to be driven. No way would Jason relent and allow Erica the first drive.

      No way, until Erica dropped her dress and stood naked and waiting.

    • Cary says:

      “Turn down the TV, sweetie. I’m looking for inspiration.”

      “What’s inspiration?,” her daughter asked.

      “It’s something you can’t find when Elmo is too loud.” She smiled and brushed Lily’s dark curls away from her forehead — a place to plant a gentle kiss.

      “What’s that picture, Mommy?,” Lily asked, pointing at the photo Helen was holding. “Why is that man yelling?”

      “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Helen stood and stretched. A gorgeous Tuesday morning, September sun filling the apartment. She felt particularly grateful for her life — Mitch’s job and how it allowed her the luxury to stay home with Lily; how happy and easy Lily was. Their routines were simple and quiet, filled with Play-Doh and picture books. Helen knew she’d miss these days next year when Lily started kindergarten, but she also looked forward to the freedom to write.

      Just now she was struggling with an exercise from her writers’ group. Everyone got a photo to use as inspiration for a story. She stared at the image. “Ugh,” she thought, “A stock photo — stale, staged. Just a couple of models in unconvincing poses. Who cares what he’s yelling about? Too much starch in his tuxedo shirt? She’s probably supposed to be his wife, but she looks like an ungrateful teenager, eyes rolling, arms crossed. As characters, they’d be shallow and awful.” Then the opening line came: “Her knees nearly buckled under the weight of his words.” A little purple, but a beginning.

      “Sweetie,” Helen said, “that’s enough TV for now. How about drawing a picture?”

      “Oooh, I could draw Daddy in front of his work building.”

      “That’d be wonderful, Lil. Daddy will love that.”

      Helen changed the channel for morning news. It took her a minute to process what she was seeing. Was it a scene from an action movie where the World Trade Center collapses? Mitch would enjoy that — he loved working in one of the world’s most recognizable buildings.

      Years later, Helen would remember the September sun shining on her daughter’s hair moments before the world shifted.

    • Richard Brown says:

      “Good grief I can’t believe you!” Kay fiercely whispered.
      “What the hell could I do?”, Alan said.
      “You could have went to the one on the other side of the house!”
      “I wouldn’t have made it. I barely made it to this one”
      “You could have gone out to the garden and killed the plants instead of my Uncle Stanley’s birthday dinner guests!”
      “It was the food…too much curry.” He rubbed his stomach.
      Kay crossed her arms.”Now what are we supposed to do? You stunk up the whole house!”
      Alan looked at the ceiling, “I…could…not…hold…it!”

      Kay glanced over Alan’s shoulder into the dining room filled with people. With a huff she grabbed his hand and headed back to the birthday dinner with him in tow.
      They stopped in the doorway and Kay said out of the side of her mouth through a tight smile,”Do you have it under control now?”
      “I don’t know. Maybe.” Alan took back his hand and straightened his tie. The awful stench from the bathroom was already making it’s way around the room as peoples faces began to wrinkle and make guarded looks at the people close to them.
      Kay and Alan casually made their way to their seats. With polite smiles they sat down. Maybe they would get away with the evil deed. No one was looking specifically at them, although it was plain they detected the evil odor.

      “Good God!”, Kay’s Aunt Victoria shouted, “What died?” She looked around the room passing over Alan and Kay. She looked to her right at the head of the table where her brother sat in the place of honor.

      “Stanley, really!”, she said, “those bowels will be the death of us all.”

    • Adam was supposed to attend his wife’s friend Julie’s birthday party tonight. Later in the evening when he reached home from his office, he searched for her everywhere in the home. He heard no reply from his wife Nancy.

      Later he found, his wife stood near the closet. She was sad.

      Adam asked – “Hey Nancy – Is everything okay with you?”

      She didn’t reply, instead looked at him angrily. The confused Adam was not sure on his wife’s unpleasant mood.

      He asked – “Are we going to the party tonight? Can you say something?”

      She kept quiet and not even looking at his face.

      “Nancy, Look at me dear, I came home early today so that we won’t be late for your friend Julie’s birthday party. I was much earlier than expected. Is there anything which bothers you?”

      Angry Nancy growled at him and said – “You better leave me alone.”

      Upset, John tried to convince Nancy – “We need to talk.”

      “There is nothing to talk.”

      “Okay, relax. Lets go to party now. We are running late.”

      Nancy shouted – “You better go to the party. I am not interested. You do whatever you wish. I am not coming.”

      “Are you crazy? She is your friend. I will not go alone. Tell me what the matter is.” – replied Adam.

      Nancy shed tears and said – “You said, I’m crazy. You do crazy things and make me sad.”

      Adam pleaded her – “I am sorry darling. I did not mean to say that. You cannot be hard on me without any reason.”

      Adam tried to hold her hands, but she dashed him and shouted at him – “You hold my friend Julie’s hand. Looks like a big chemistry is going between you both,”

      Adam astonished and asked –“What do you mean?”

      “I have seen you liking all her 14 Facebook pictures that she recently posted. You never even liked my single picture. You are such a bad guy.”

      “Oh shit. Dear Nancy, Did you see a cute dog in all her pictures? I liked the dog in that picture not Julie. You simply misunderstood me.”

    • Drew Orscheln says:

      I am in an abusive relationship. This is news to me, though I believe it is something that my “friends” are acutely aware of. They ask me why I let him treat me like this, I tell them they don’t understand. I tell them they don’t know what we have, tell them they don’t see us on our good days. The thing is, I don’t see us on our good days, though I’m sure they’re there… I don’t know. I love him. He loves me. Is that not enough? Only I know the full story, so I don’t think they have the right to judge.

      The more I think about it, the more I agree with those “bitch” friends of mine, as you call them. Last night you put me through hell, I said it was the last time you would ever lay a fucking hand on me. Said it was the last time you would get to touch me, get to hold me, get to take me back to your place and fuck me even though I wasn’t in the mood, the last time you would get to fuck me ever. You thought I was playing a game. You acted like you didn’t give a shit, acted like I’d set you free. Well be free. It’s the last you’ll have of me, because the truth is, I’m the one that’s free. Free to spend time with my guy friends without you getting jealous, free to get drunk and not worry about you calling me a whore for dancing at that frat house, free to be myself and not have to go home to you, drunk as a fucking skunk, grinding on me and pulling your cock out and trying to fuck when all I ever wanted was someone to hold me as I fell asleep. Someone to love me and respect me and care for me and help me to not feel so lonely all the time. That someone isn’t you. And I realized something tonight: even at our best, it’s never been you.

    • Reunion

      “I can’t do this.”

      “I know, Roks. But we promised.”

      “We promised? I didn’t promise anything.”

      “You agreed to do it, and that counts as a promise. We’ll have a future. Do it for us.”

      Michael looked at his watch. Ten minutes.

      “Get dressed. Formal, remember?”

      Roksana smacked the door with her hand.

      Back in the small room, she pulled her dress over her head and ripped off her bra. She bent to grab the full-skirted gown. His hands locked on her hips.

      “Eight minutes,” he whispered. He peeled off her thong. Her back arched to meet him.

      Two minutes later, Michael poured bourbon into cups as he adjusted his trousers. He threw her a towel.

      “Feel better?”

      Roksana pulled the gown over her head.

      “All these buttons!” she cried.

      “Let me help.” Michael gave her a cup and began buttoning. She drank.

      “Is my hair all right?” She fussed in the mirror.

      “It’s beautiful,” Michael cooed.”You’re beautiful.”

      “Hand me my make-up bag,” she ordered. The church bells rang.

      “Wait. Lift up your skirt.”

      She gasped as he fastened the holster to her thigh.

      “There. Now you have the gun.” He winked and gave her the bag.



      Her hand shook as she reapplied mascara.

      

“Roks, the insanity defense will work. We’ll protect you. We have people inside.”

      

She stared.

“Really?”

      “Yeah. Come on.”

      He led her downstairs and across the street to the church.

      Her hand was icy and eyes narrow, unblinking. Satisfied, he smiled at the milling crowd.

      Roksana slipped her hand in the skirt’s side seam.

      “Do it,” Michael whispered. The crowd cheered.

      “Roks. Do it. Now.” He disappeared.

      His father’s fiancée stepped out of the limousine. Her eyes locked on Roksana’s. The cheering became a roar. The light grew dim, the air gritty.

      “Someone call an ambulance!”

      Screaming. Warmth at the back of her head. Cold cement. Sirens.

      The woman crouched over her.

      “Roksana? It’s been so long. What . . . ?”

      Michael’s father pushed through the crowd.

      “Frank, it’s my little sister. I haven’t seen her in 20 years. Poor thing. Looks like she fainted.”

    • Glenda says:

      The Grin

      Doug was about the same height as me. I liked that, I didn’t have to stretch my neck to speak with him.

      “Jessie” he said. “I know it’s a lot to ask because we are at this party, but I could sure use your help with Andrea right now.”

      I said “Sure” and reached to touch him on his arm, one of those comfort things I do without even thinking about it. He turned his head, glanced down at my hand and then stared deep into my eyes. I was startled.

      “Okay, Doug, pay attention and I will give you a short but effective trick to use in couple communication that no doubt will solve your problem. I shared a few phrases with him and asked him to repeat them back to me to see if he got the drift of what I was saying.

      Those eyes. It was difficult to stay with the conversation, my mind started to race. I thought his eyes were light blue, and now they are like cobalt, but so soft. So..what? Innocent? Hardly. He was speaking with care, feeling the words in his mouth it seemed. With his head cocked a little sideways, he grinned at me. The grin did it and then I didn’t know what he was saying.

      I crossed my arms in front of me and just for a moment, looked slightly up, I thought, “This isn’t good, how can I recover…okay, got it. Whew, thank God for Counsellor training.”

      “So tell me again, Doug, let’s see if you have grasped what I was saying. I mean, use your own language, speak like you normally would, move your hands. None of us talk exactly the same. The idea is there, but use words that are comfortable for you.”

      Now he is looking where my hand had been on his arm, and then his eyes caught mine. Doug flashed his centre stage grin again and I felt myself melting. He is so mischievous and his expression is really drawing me in.
      Damn, I am so distracted here.

    • Sheila Lewis says:

      “I don’t get it, Samantha. Don’t give me that look.”
      “How can you criticize my look? Until a week ago, you only knew me as a friend on Facebook,” Samantha pouted, tossing her lush mane.
      Women were so complicated, Scott thought. “Okay, I’ll change. I didn’t know you hated bow ties.” He had half a mind to leave and let her stand there in her doorway. But he wasn’t raised that way, and he had excitedly promised Grandma he was bringing a date to the party.
      “Never mind. I’ll just slip into something a bit more…festive. Please wait here.”
      She closed the front door and disappeared behind it before opening it again to reveal herself in what could only be described as a more revealing dress. Scott was completely taken aback. He tried not to stare at her plunging neckline and barely concealed cleavage. She was smiling, but he couldn’t discern if she was baiting him. He decided to remain silent and take his cues from Samantha.
      They stood in the doorway sizing each other up in that split second, cautious way that seatmates on a long Transatlantic flight might. She waited for him to say something, to compliment the dress that had cost her a week’s pay or her building’s ornate lobby. She smiled harder. He said nothing. Maybe he was shy, or not used to dating live, off-line women.
      Scott waited for her to speak. He wasn’t good at small talk. After a long pause, she spoke but he didn’t hear what she said. He wasn’t going to ask her to repeat herself. Grandma was waiting at her ninetieth birthday party, and he wasn’t going to disappoint her.
      When he didn’t respond, she raised her voice. “I said, I’m going to get a shawl, can you wait a minute?”
      “Yes, yes, of course.” The night would be long, but not without promise.

    • The Rock

      David didn’t know whether to take another step into the house and close the door, or make his exit and slam it!

      “Lisa! Honey! The banquet starts in forty-five minutes and you haven’t even begun to dress. I can’t be late for this!”

      Out of necessity in his job, punctuality had become second nature. David was a good cop and not given to temper, but could tell by her avoiding eyes and body language, this was not going to be the special evening he had been anticipating. The annual policemen’s ball and awards banquet was always something extraordinary. He’d been nominated for policeman of the year and all he wanted was his fiancé beside him in case he was, indeed, chosen.

      “I’m not going!”

      “What? You can’t mean that!”

      Karry’s exquisite emerald-green, satin gown lay neatly on her bed ready to adorn her slender form, but she had not yet begun to change from the simple attire dictated by her job in the classroom. Her arms folded tightly across her chest, she stared hard at the picture on the opposite wall. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen this stance in the last couple of weeks.

      “Yes, David, I’m afraid I do!”

      “What’s the matter with you?” This is a special night and we’ve been making plans for weeks. What’s your problem?”

      “Cecile!”

      “Cecile?”

      “Yes, Cecile! I’m not going to play second fiddle to your new partner!”

      “She isn’t your competition. Besides, I don’t choose my partners. You know that! Now stop this nonsense and get dressed!”

      “Yes, sir,” she said sarcastically.

      As they entered the hotel ballroom, Karry’s eyes rolled as she immediately spotted Cecile walking toward them on the arm of a tall, slender, handsome man.

      “David, Lisa, I’d like to introduce my fiancé, Brad.”

      Lisa’s eyes were fixed not on him, but the huge diamond on Cecile’s left ring finger that could only be described as a rock.

    • Frances says:

      I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes at Joel, “here you go again,” I said,”telling me why I need to go to this dinner.”

      “No, no,” said Joel, ” I am merely trying to convince you of your responsibility to show our team you support them.”

      “I think you want an audience, so when you get nominated for partner, you can throw it in my face. When I joined this firm you told me I would never be part of the team because I was not good enough to be one of the partners.”

      “Aw, come on Jules, just come for a while, I promise I’m not in the running for partner, I am being put in charge of acquisitions, and won’t even be on the 40th anymore, I’m going up to 42nd.”

      I looked at Joel in disbelief, I had no idea he was leaving the office. We had both been hired at FIL Law at the same time. Joel and I were always competing with each other.
      Then we started dating. It was almost like he wanted me to leave, to give up on my values and dreams while he pursued his.

      “Joel, I think you better leave now.” I tried wiping away my tears and streaking mascara all over my face.

      “Please,” he pleaded, “please come down, it will look so strange for you to come all the way here, to San Fransico for the yearly away meeting, and then you don’t come to the dinner.”

      I am a person who thinks things through, so I agreed to come down, have a bite to eat, listen to a few speakers, and then I would feign sickness and go back to my room.

      “Ok, I will come down, you go, and Ill be down in ten minutes, I need to fix my make up.”

      After Joel left, I washed up and put a fake smile on my face and headed down to the dinner.

      I walked into the dining room, and the whole room stood up clapping.

      “Here she is everyone,” said Joel, “Introducing FILLaw firm’s newest partner, and … if she will have me, my new bride to be.” Joel dropped down on his knees and pulled out a ring.

      The big grin on my face told all as I answered. “Yes!, yes!”

    • Seve says:

      An hour ago he thought they were going to a wedding. Now it looks like they may never go anywhere together again! What happened? She thought it was just a distracting call from a girl friend while getting ready to go with Pete to their high school friends wedding. How could this happen?
      How many events in history and life hinge on such small things? As Rebecca was brushing her hair the phone rang. She started to let the machine get it – she was in a hurry. The wedding was less than 2 hours away and Pete was never late. But by the ring tone it was Suzie so she picked up, put it on speaker and continued to brush. All that remained now were fragments of Suzie’s excited chatter. Pete coming out of the Holiday Inn with his arm around a ravishing blonde . . . With a kiss Pete puts the girl in a cab and gets into his car . . . They had dated for 20 months now and talked about marriage. What was Pete thinking?
      Pete knocks, the door opens and Rebecca attacks with a 40 second blast of anger and toxin. Blonde – Hotel – Kiss! Pete not knowing what to say starts talking never realizing what he was saying or understanding what had just happened.
      With his Mom sick he had wanted this wedding date with Rebecca to be a pleasant interlude from the last 10 days. He was in shock. What was going on?
      As the door slammed in his face he wondered what to do next. His thoughts turned to his sister at the Holiday Inn crying and his Mom at the hospital dying. Had he just lost Rebecca too?

    • ‘We’re late. Let’s move’, said Brad as he opened the door.

      Lisa stayed put at the door refusing to budge.

      ‘Baby, this is my promotion dinner. I need to be there on time’.

      ‘I’m not going, you go ahead without me’, said Lisa crossing her arms.

      Brad knew she was being stubborn. The phone had rung just minutes earlier while he was in the bathroom. It was Mira, the new girl in his team, reminding him to be on time for the event.

      ‘Look, Mira was just alerting me. That’s her job. Let’s go and enjoy’, pleaded Brad. Lisa was suspicious of this sultry Asian girl.

      They had been living together for seven years now and Lisa was waiting for him to propose marriage to her. She knew everything was time bound, her age and beauty for a start. She was aging each day. Within a year she would be thirty. She never looked at another man and it was clear to all the male species around that she was booked by Brad Mercy, the upcoming fast streamer in the conglomerate. He proudly showed her off to his colleagues at all the glitzy parties they attended. She wanted to settle down and have his baby.

      At times she wondered whether he was just using her. His female colleagues openly flirted with him. And now this ‘whatever her name was’, had him literally eating out of her hands.

      Lisa knew that this party was important to him and if she didn’t join him she had everything to lose. Nobody would miss her, not even Brad after a drink or two. The girls would take this opportunity to hunt him down. Now why would she give them such a chance, she asked herself. Seven years of togetherness would go to waste.

      She unfolded her arms, smiled at him and said, ‘Fine, I’ve changed my mind’.

      Brad took her in his arms. ‘Lisa will you marry me?’
      She was stunned. ‘You can take all the time in the world to make up your mind but this minute we need to rush!’

    • Bob says:

      “I know we are both insincere toadies chasing fame but that is the life we choose to live. Remember our contest – first to meet a Kardasian wins?”
      She flinched and said “ Neither of us have any talent, no skills, no prospects and yet we play dress up and pretend to be rising stars. We won’t accomplish anything on this path.”
      “Maybe we should reverse our rolls and both have sex changes. That would get us noticed. I’m sure the Star would cover that – Couple reverses Rolls with Dual Gender Modification Surgeries” he tested and teased.
      “Great idea, you go first. You don’t have much to lose anyway”
      “The operation couldn’t be any more painful that the way you treat me. I’m just trying to help us get noticed so we won’t have to get a real job” he simpered with a combination of snark and whine.
      “Maybe a job isn’t a bad idea. I could go back to Kenyan’s Pub and wait tables and you could … What were you doing three years ago.”
      “It doesn’t matter” raising his voice slightly and striking a defensive posture. You committed to this, no matter how long it took. We were going to be on television and attend the best parties.”
      “ Don’t you see how ridiculous that promise was and how it has ruined our friendship and our lives?” straightening her dress she said “ I’m done. I’m going home. You win. I’m done.”

    • neetuyadav says:

      This scene is told a story about lover couple boy ia saying to girl baby which u thought that is not like that.the girl is very angry with him girl says to boy u have changed. I had believed in u. Ur my whole live but u don’t deserved my love and believe.the boy doing completely convenced to girl .but girl is hurted. This story told that conversation according to me.

    • jennifer says:

      “You have no right to come here and make a scent, wake up the neighbors.” Her lips are a straight line, her hands white against the door post.
      “Me, no right! Come on! What kind of mother are you? Are you so important that you can throw aside my education. For what? Tell me for what? Vanity, that’s for what. What mother would squander most of her son’s college fund for cosmetic surgery?”
      “That deserves no answer. It’s my money, and I have every right to do with it as I wish.”
      He clenches and unclenches his hands as if squeezing a ball..”Every damned penny. And for what? So you can look like my sister and not my mother. Gone, just like that.” He clicks his fingers. “Just like that. Gone.”
      She shakes her head. “Who the hell do you think you are? I worked for the money. I paid my taxes. You, in your fancy dress as if you have all the money in the world. Dressed up like a monkey in that outfit. Going out with silly girls you can’t afford.”
      “At least I act my age.”
      Her face purple, her hands twitching as if she wants to hit him. “Act my age! I have worked for every line and wrinkle and now it’s my time. I’m free of your lazy, no-good father and you. Go away. Leave me alone. I resign from the job of Mother. I don’t have a son who gives a damn. Go away and leave me alone.” She slams the door in his face and looks into the hall mirror and admires herself.
      “Yes indeed. Doc Liebowicz does a fine job. I never looked so good, even when I was thirty. Thanks, Doc.” She stands up straight. “Tummy tuck is amazing.” She holds her arms out beside her body. “And as for the bat-wings. Michelle Obama’s arms now.” She runs her hands up and down her arms.

    • Dustine May Garcia says:

      “Come on,Kira! You know that I’m sorry!”

      Kira opened the door as she glared at her pleading boyfriend in front of her.Tears were starting to form in her eyes,but she wiped them away as she semi-shouted at Randy.

      “Stop lying already.I know the truth,you know the truth.Go back to your hoe and start a real relationship!”,she shouted with a shudder. She looked away,and as she did,a tear drop crawled from her eyes.

      “We already have been together for two years…two years! Last night,I was waiting….prepared your favorite dish…I was so happy that we have been together for two years…but you did not came. You did not answer my calls and text messages,worrying that something happened to you. So I went to your house,and as I was about to knock at your door,I heard someone.”

      “At first, I thought it was your mom or sister,but I remembered you saying that you’re parents are going to your little sister’s school program.And the voice of that person sounds like a young woman,so I busted in,seeing a slut wearing a spaghetti striped gown. She stared at me at shocked,and when I called your name,I heard you from your bedroom,saying, “Wait a moment,Babe.I’m just going to put my tie bow…”

      “The slut explained that she was your girlfriend,not knowing who I was.You just stared there at space. She was telling the truth…It’s over Randy.We’re done…”

      Kira shut the door without looking at Randy’s eyes for the last time. She ran up to her bedroom and buried her crying face under her pillow.While Randy,who still stood in front the door,left a note in the door step.

      “I know that what I did was wrong.I’m sorry…for everything. I know you won’t forgive me for breaking your heart….but at least….show me that you won’t cry. We have known each other for a long time,and I know that you hate crying. You held back your tears a while ago,I know that. But at least show me that you will always be happy. This will be the last love letter I will write to you.I Love You
      -Randy”

      Hey,the one above was just a draft.I accidentally posted it. This one is the real. Thanks.

    • Dustine May Garcia says:

      “Come on,Kira! You know that was not me!”

      Kira opened the door as she glared at her pleading boyfriend in front of her.Tears were starting to form in her eyes,but she wiped them away as she semi-shouted at Randy.

      “Stop lying already.I know the truth,you know the truth.Go back to your hoe and continue your date!”,she shouted with a shudder. She looked away,and as she did,a tear drop crawled from her eyes.

      “We already have been together for two years…two years! Last night,I was waiting….prepared your favorite dish…I was so happy that we have been together for two years…but you did not came. You did not answer my calls and text messages,worrying that something happened to you. So I went to your house,and as I was about to knock at your door,I heard someone.”

      “At first, I thought it was your mom or sister,but I remembered you saying that you’re parents are going to your little sister’s school program.And the voice of that person sounds like a young woman,so I busted in,seeing a slut wearing a spaghetti striped gown. She stared at me at shocked,and when I called your name,I heard you from your bedroom,saying, “Wait a moment,Babe.I’m just going to put my tie bow…”

      “The slut explained that she was your girlfriend,not knowing who I was.You just stared there at space. She was telling the truth…It’s over Randy.We’re done…”

      Kira shut the door without looking at Randy’s eyes for the last time. She ran up to her bedroom and buried her crying face under her pillow.While Randy,who still stood in front the door,left a note in the door step.

      “I know that what I did was wrong.I’m sorry…for everything. I know you won’t forgive me for breaking your heart….but at least….show me that you won’t cry. We have known each other for a long time,and I know that you hate crying. You held back your tears a while ago,I know that. But at least show me that you will always be happy. This will be the last love letter I will write to you.I Love You
      -Randy”

    • “I didn’t sleep with her.”

      “Why should I believe you? You swore to me last time that it would never happen again.”

      “And I’ve kept that promise, I swear.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “These pictures are fake.”

      She guffawed and turned on her heel. He followed her.

      Missy turned back to him suddenly. He nearly crashed into her.

      “Why would anyone send me fake pictures?” She took the envelope from the end table drawer and poured the pictures out. They landed on the floor. She turned away, it was too painful to see them again.

      “I’m telling you that these are not real.” Squatting to pick the photos up, Dan studied them. “Who took these? I don’t even know where this is. I swear to you this isn’t me.”

      Missy looked between the face of the man she loved and the incriminating pictures. She took the pictures from his hand. “Tell the truth… do you know her?” She wanted to trust Dan, she really did.

      He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

      She assumed they were real. Dan cheated once before and there was a note in the package that just had those two words, “He’s cheating.” What else was she to think?

      “I screwed up once, but I have never looked at another woman like that again. It meant everything that you gave me another chance. I won’t blow it again.” He put a hand on her arm, “I promise you. I don’t ever want to lose you. I love you.”

      Missy looked at his hand. His touch was gentle. Tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t want to be hurt again.” She sat on the couch.

      He followed her and sat next to her. “Honey, I don’t know who did this, I don’t know why. You can’t even see the guy’s face.”

      Missy looked at the glossies again. The guy had the same hair color and it looked like the same build, but he was under the sheets. Maybe he was telling her the truth.

      She had to believe him.

    • Sabrina says:

      “You know I need a bowtie for that occasion, Linney.”

      Lindsey rolled her eyes in disdain. Thomas calling her name wrong was one thing, and him telling her to grab his stuff for her was another. And both irritated her to no end.

      “Linney Hanson. Get my bowtie for me.”

      “Why should I? And the name’s Lindsey, you son of a Gregory Hanson.”

      Thomas narrowed his eyes. Usually she was not this stubborn. Not even when he called out her name wrong.

      “Linney, you know I can’t go to a bomb party in this polka-dot necktie. The Afghans are going to shoot me,” he said, without a hint of joke in his voice. Naturally, he was a no-joker, and Lindsey knew that, even though he was already back from Turkey a week before, and was just recovering from an injury.

      But he got an even graver injury in his being, far worse than the wound on his torso.

      Lindsey spotted the sad look in her brother’s eyes. Naturally, she would ignore that look and pretend that she was reading the book, but this time, that look had made her go to the hideous wardrobe again and grab the black bowtie he needed. He smiled, untied the necktie and threw it into her open palms, and put on the bow.

      “There, nice and perfect,” he said, before turning to give his sister one last bow, and circled on his heels as he darted out of the door. “I’ll be back around 12!”

      That was the last she had heard of him, two hours before the news came around and announced that a Thomas Hanson was shot by some random guy in a clown suit riding a pink bicycle.

    • Timothy Cole says:

      A bloom of red heated her cheeks, and her face hardened; her eyes said everything.
      “Janice, I called and told you to be ready, that this would be the chance of a lifetime, to get that red dress on, the one that comes off your shoulder and drapes around your waist. I told you all that and that I’d be here at seven. Remember about the shoes? The spikey-heeled ones? They’re red, too, just like that dress.”
      Janice fumed. Jeremy was becoming just like this—call two hours before a date without even asking her if she could go—or would go. He used to plan, ask her if she had time, if she wanted to do something. He’d bring flowers, or wine or something. He’d tell her how pretty she looked and that her hair was lovely; he’d hold the door, the chair, show her off and tell everyone how special she was to him. Maybe he wouldn’t spend much money, but he’d clean and polish the car, show up with a fresh haircut and splashes of after-shave.
      Now, standing at her door, her phone still warm from his hurried demands that she be ready and dressed just like he’d said, her hair still damp and her stomach still nervous from the remains of her period. Janice took only five minutes to decide not to live Jeremy’s idea of her life anymore. Without makeup, without conditioner, her red dress, worn once since being dry-cleaned, flung across her bed, her demi-bra and thigh-highs visible in the half-open bureau drawer, Janice took umbrage at the thought of being Jeremy’s idea of availability. Seven times in bed with him, without his knowledge of the others before him, she impressed herself with her talent to make him swoon into completion, not able to recover so she could have a night’s sleep and found that was conquest enough for her.
      She wasn’t going. She was twenty-three and there were others out there and on her call list. She slammed the door, leaving Jeremy blank and wordless.
      He turned, preparing a story for the night

    • Sabrina says:

      Atilla would have had her patience sky-rocketing past the roof, but the same kind of story spouting from Liam’s mouth made it explode like an atom bomb.

      Not a perfect timing. Not when he was so close to asking her out.

      “But, Atilla, it’s real! We can travel to the moon with a car now, and they have a bridge for it!” For the umpteenth time, Liam tried to convince her to believe him, and Atilla, being no-nonsense, rolled her eyes and leaned against the door frame, arms and legs crossed.

      “That was the same story I heard from Josh the soccer guy last night,” she yawned, eyes drifting to some dusty spot in her living room, obviously trying to contain herself from slamming the door on his face. “If you guys got no other jack shit to convince me to go out with you, then please leave my lawn because you’re violating my privacy at two in the morning.”

      Liam dropped his hands. He had spent twenty minutes trying to tell her that he was telling the truth, but Atilla was just as stubborn. Prom was three days away; he had just the right idea to get her on a romantic ride. He guessed that the ‘moonlit ride’ would be mostly for the bullshit couples in bullshit romance novels.

      Just as he turned to walk away from her yard, she called out after him: “Oh, and one more thing. If I found you lounging about in my yard at four in the morning again I’m going to call the police and make sure you’re arrested. So, don’t get your hopes.”

      Atilla slammed the door shut, and Liam walked out through the fence onto the front sidewalk. The moon was out, full and bright, and just as he had predicted, a silhouette of a car crossed over the horizon, over the moon, seemingly suspended by something, before it descended onto somewhere distant, seemingly safe and without crashing rapidly.

    • I just tried to post my story but I don’t see it! Did I do something wrong?
      Patti

      • Hi P.I – your story is here in the comments! Sometimes it takes a while for a comment to appear because the spam filter swallows it and the WTD has to go in and make him spit it out again 🙂

        • Thanks! I finally saw it! Just panicked because it didn’t go immediately through! Thanks so much! This is great fun!
          Patti

    • I gingerly opened the door she slammed in my face and peeked around it. Lanni stood arms folded waiting for me.
      “Hey, what are you doing?”
      “What does it look like?” She pursed her lips into a pout. That was one of the reasons I’d brought her with me tonight, that pout.
      “Looks like a temper tantrum. What’s this about?”
      “Temper tantrum? I have every right to throw a tantrum after what you’ve done!” Her eyes flashed fire and she stomped a heel.
      “What are you talking about?”
      “That woman, that…that…reporter woman interviewing you for Hollywood Television! She was practically shoving that mike down your throat! I won’t be treated like a piece of meat hanging from your arm while you…you—flirt—with every woman that accosts you on the red carpet!”
      “Okay, look, I’m sorry but can we talk about this later? My category is coming up and we have to be out there if by some bizarre chance I win.” I grasped her arm and tried to pull her out of the doorway but her heels appeared to be bound in the cement floor of the crumbling building that held the awards ceremonies since they began.
      “Why?” she shouted at me. I glanced around nervously to see if anyone heard. “Why did you do it?”
      I sighed.
      “Look, it’s my first award show, my first ever nomination. What did you expect?”
      “I expected you to respect me! I don’t understand why you would practically suck her cheek off!”
      “Lanni, if you’ll just come out to the seats I’ll explain everything,” this time I yanked her. “Please?”
      She sighed and nodded but I knew the fight wasn’t over yet. I won. I held my award with one hand, Lanni with the other. The same woman reporter stopped me on the red carpet.
      “Congratulations on your win!” she literally gushed. “I’m so proud of you…son!”
      “Thanks Mom,” I bussed her cheek and then looked at Lanni who didn’t say another word that night.

    • Israel Ruiz says:

      “I’m sorry”, the words came out slowly but sincere. He felt awkward and diminished saying them; after all it wasn’t his fault arriving late for their night out. He had to run some errands to take care of his ailing mother before he left. Having someone new in his life complicated his situation. She was smart and beautiful, but his commitments to his mother kept him from fully investing his time in his newfound love. He thought she would eventually understand. She didn’t. The only answer he kept hearing was “why don’t you place her in a home and let the professionals take care of her”. He loved his mother and did not have the heart to abandon her. “I am sorry”, he said as she stood there with arms crossed. He tried to explain the reasons why, but the look on her face and body posture clearly showed her resentment of being placed second in his life. She felt it was a losing battle. It is not the first time she had to wait for him for hours. She thought to herself this is how the relationship is going to continue. There was no way through it all. His mother is interfering in his life. “Listen”, she said, “it is always the same story”. “I know I apologize” he said, “Can you understand I have responsibilities toward her”. The wall was slowly building up between them as they stood there in the hallway. This is how it will end before it gets started, the life and stamina slowly fizzling out of the relationship. Maybe he wasn’t meant to have anyone else in his life. The circumstances aren’t right. She will never understand that I love my mother more than anything else in this world. And that I can live with that.

    • Israel Ruiz says:

      “I’m sorry”, the words came out slowly but sincere. He felt awkward and diminished saying them; after all it wasn’t his fault arriving late for their night out. He had to run some errands to take care of his ailing mother before he left. Having someone new in his life complicated his situation. She was smart and beautiful, but his commitments to his mother kept him from fully investing his time in his newfound love. He thought she would eventually understand. She didn’t. The only answer he kept hearing was “why don’t you place her in a home and let the professionals take care of her”. He loved his mother and did not have the heart to abandon her. “I am sorry”, he said as she stood there with arms crossed. He tried to explain the reasons why, but the look on her face and body posture clearly showed her resentment of being placed second in his life. She felt it was a losing battle. It is not the first time she had to wait for him for hours. She thought to herself this is how the relationship is going to continue. There was no way through it all. His mother is interfering in his life. “Listen”, she said, “it is always the same story”. “I know I apologize” he said, “Can you understand I have responsibilities toward her”. The wall was slowly building up between them as they stood there in the hallway. This is how it will end before it gets started, the life and stamina slowly fizzling out of the relationship. Maybe he wasn’t meant to have anyone else in his life. The circumstances aren’t right. She will never understand that I love my mother more than anything else in this world. And I can live with that.

    • Nicole says:

      Angie sipped on a martini at the cocktail party. She winced at the bitter lemon peel in her drink. Things were on the rocks. She looked over to them sitting close on the couch, froze, and held her breath. The olive bobbed as her hand shook to place the drink down to the bar counter.
      Crash!
      Cool moisture sprayed her ankles.
      The room went silent. Ben’s closer than normal liaison with another woman was interrupted.
      Angie turned and ran upstairs; her eyes winced to the tears that began to pool. The bathroom was the best place for her to find refreshment—tissues—rationale—hide—anything!
      She collected her thoughts, as she stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Yes! He liked getting fresh with other women.
      Banging of the door came. ‘Angie, come out of there. What is wrong with you?’ Ben’s voice trumpeted like a fog horn through the cracks.
      She sniffled, and felt the wisp of heated air as he opened the door with a firm hand.
      ‘What is wrong with you?’ He screamed at her. ‘You’ve just made a fool of yourself, and me.’
      Angie stood tall and sleek. Her shapely hip bone curved under a pale silk dress. Her jawline dropped, below high and slender cheek bones, and her arms crossed in front of her in firmness. He gripped tight with one hand onto a partition that showed the signs of wear and tear over the years.
      ‘I saw you touch her leg.’
      ‘Give me a break.’ Ben yelled. ‘I was only talking to the woman.’ His jaw stiffened with the raise of his voice. A fist clenched and unclenched.
      Her eyes remained askance, in line with his, eyebrows arched. ‘1—2—3—4—5—6—7—that’s how long your hand lingered.’
      ‘Come on! I was just talking to her.’ Ben’s voice had turned dry and cracked.
      ‘Seven!—seven years, I have waited for a proposal and it takes you seven damn seconds to fondle someone else.’
      Angie took a step back, and slammed the door and yelled, ‘It’s over!’

    • Alana says:

      We were at another one of those soirees. I was always that one woman who isn’t polite enough to be at these places. Always sticking out. This isn’t what I’d expected the first year of my married life to be like. I wasn’t rich by birth, I made the mistake of being married to a rich man.

      Some old man dressed in a tux said, “Women should be seen, not heard.” We were standing in a golden room lit with champagne and draped in silk. I was dressed in another stupid pale dress, and hadn’t even bothered to tie my unruly hair. My husband was, as always, dressed perfectly and, as always, he laughed politely.

      I threw caution to the wind and said, “Well, if that’s what you want your women to be like, why don’t you just buy a robot? Robots are pretty and mute, unlike women who have opinions and feelings.”

      I set down the champagne glass so hard on the table that it cracked. So did my husband. He led me outside to an empty balcony.

      “What was that all about?” He closed the door. His eyebrows were arched in the wrong way, there were creases on his forehead, and his jaw was tight.

      “That was me being me. I can’t do any more of these parties, I’m sorry. I’d rather spend all this money helping people out there who can barely afford a decent life; someone like me.”

      “My company donates money to charity every month. What more do you want? This is how the other spectrum of society is, and since you chose to enter it you should at least make an effort to conform to it,” he said.

      I folded my arms. “I did try. I have been for a year now. But I can’t put up with these superficial people anymore. You have to compromise too, you know?”

      “Alright.” He sighed. “The next time we’re invited to one of these, I’ll say you aren’t well. Now let’s go grab some pizza. I’m starving.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

      I ruffled his curly hair. “Let’s go,” I whispered, “in five, four, three…”

    • Anton says:

      That was incorrect, I accidentally copied the above story onto my post. THIS IS NOT THE ORIGINAL POST OF THIS SHORT STORY! THIS IS JUST A COPY OF THAT POST THAT I PUT UP BY ACCIDENT! My real short story is posted elsewhere in the comments. Sorry for any trouble, it was an accident

      • Please don’t worry, Anton! Your lovely contribution is above.

        Sometimes the spam filter holds long comments back. Here at WTD we’re working hard to release any of the stories that have accidentally been held back.

        • Sheila Lewis says:

          Hi Mary, also wondering how and when the replies and comment essay I posted will show up. Thanks for the terrific prompts, really enjoyed this picture. Sheila

          • Hi Sheila, I can see your comments!
            You may have to refresh your browser, once you’ve posted a comment.

    • Men Sreypov says:

      “I know I am such an asshole, but why u can’t just listen to me once and give me a chance to show off what happened last night.” boy said.
      ” chance? How much do u want? U got so many, boy. And how do I suppose to believe in u? I am tried of your excuses. I swear it doesn’t help anymore.” Girl replied.

    • Anton says:

      “I remember when I first saw you. You were flawless, untouched. Now look at you! All busted up!”
      Thomas paused momentarily.
      “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
      No reply.
      “Answer me!” Snarled Thomas savagely.
      “You know why you have these problems? Because you let people treat you like that. Like you’re just an object!”
      He was now shouting angrily.
      “You can’t let these guys bang you like that anymore. I know that it was a rough night tonight, that they were drunk, and they don’t have that much self control, but this is no excuse. If they can’t respect you, you got to at least respect yourself. Now, I know I banged you just as many times as those other guys did, but in the end, I take care of you, don’t I? They don’t!”
      Thomas was breathing hard, his head wandering. He had been drinking tonight, and his judgment was off. He knew he should not be doing this, that this wasn’t correct. It wasn’t what rational people did.
      But this is a problem, a real problem.
      He knew that this probably wasn’t the right way to handle it, but this had been going on for too long.
      He decided to hit home, hard.
      “You know that I chose you, not the other way around, right? You better show some self-respect, because I can break you. Don’t think I need you. I only chose you because you were white. That’s right. Only because of your COLOR!”
      He was crying now, uncontrollably, tears running down his cheeks.
      “Now,” he said, voice shaking, but calmer now. “Let’s settle this once and for all. If a guy bangs you, especially as violently and disrespectfully as today, you hit him on his way out. Do it! YOU HAVE TO LEARN TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!”
      “I won’t always be here to protect you.” he whispered, voice cracked with pain. “Forgive me…”
      And with that, Thomas collapsed on the floor.
      His girlfriend looked down at him. She loved it when Thomas came home drunk. His conversations with the door were just too funny.

      • Martin says:

        The ending os genius!
        I really didn’t expect that! 😀

    • sukumar karmakar says:

      That man – That woman – T h e r e
      There are only 2 or 3 human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.

      They appear as new for every person.
      What about their story? – That’s going there in there? What could possibly be? I wondered that evening, while looking outside through my open window passively & then found them suddenly & became interested about the happenings that were going on. It’s bad to peep in others open window but what is that bad always is interesting.

      My cigarette simply trailed some thin lines of blue smoke. It was a stuffy evening.

      No, I don’t know them.
      I can’t stop talking because now I had started my story, it wanted to be finished. But with whom I’m talking? I was talking with myself. Listening them from this far? Nope. Yes – I think so, I hope so because already I’ve replaced him.

      Our stories are the tellers of us.

      That way one day Shelly stood near the front door after opening it & said – ‘’I know where you been!’’ And I couldn’t answer immediately, tried though.
      We relate this way, the only way. Others stories with ours.
      It can’t be otherwise. Or is there?
      I don’t know them. Yet I related instantly with them then & there that way.
      That’s funny!
      That couple can’t leave me.

      Look at the transformation, how I is becoming WE. We cannot choose where to start and stop. No…. no one can. But simply a ‘Good bye’ can finish it. That’s pathetic!

      And then…. a story remains.

    • “I can’t believe you are just going to stand there and roll your eyes at me! You obviously can’t see how unreasonable you’re being!”

    • Mel says:

      “But this is the only chance I have!” protested Jason, as he pleaded with his sister. “When will I get another shot like this?” His voice shook slightly.

      “I said, “No.”” Sandra shot back, tightening her folded arms, a sure sign she was settling in for an extended argument.

      “You’re being completely unreasonable. The tux is already paid for, I have the time, nothing will go wrong. Come on, Sandydoon” The old nickname didn’t seem to impress Sandra, who frowned.

      “Nothing? You call my little brother up on stage with just his cuffs on nothing?

      “More than cuffs, Sis. You remember…”

      Her voice grew steely. “I do indeed. I remember feeling that those men were exploited, cheapened and objectified. They gyrated and swiveled, and never, ever, seemed more than plastic, artificial dolls, without 2 brain cells that shared a zip code. Letting those women finger them while slipping a tip…”

      “I didn’t see the women complaining too much,” Jason began.

      “You didn’t see anything. You were drunk, and the lights and the music and the money looked good. But you don’t see the faces of the men waiting backstage among the cheap costumes, their despair looking out through eyes that have been too open too long. No dancing, Jason. It’s not a life for you.”

      “And what IS a life for me, Sandra? Hanging out here in this mausoleum, waiting to die like Mom and Dad? No. Jason and the Argonauts sail tonight for the Golden Fleece!”
      He turned and left.

      Sandra turned slowly toward the door as it closed. As Jason’s engine roared, she walked to the door and slid the chain lock into place. Jason wouldn’t be back before she would need to leave. She whistled tunelessly as she stripped and showered. She was just sitting down to a fresh cup of coffee when someone knocked, loudly on that door. She slipped the lock, and cracked the door.

      “Yes, officer?”

      “Residence of Jason Goodman?”

      “Yes.”

      “So sorry. Accident. Tree. Draped. Final. Here’s a card.”

      The casket blanket of chrysanthemums was perfect.

      • Jeralyn says:

        I didn’t expect the ending as presented, which is good. Nice dialogue.

      • the unexpected element of cuffing made the story past this image unique and surprising, and the dialogue had just the right spark and intrigue. Thanks for sharing, Sheila


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