Photo Challenge #210 – Summer and Esther

Posted on April 17, 2018 by Michael

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The man liked to rough handle the girls he picked up. For him, it was all about dominance. It was his way of controlling the situation for he was, in fact, a coward and a weakling beneath the violence.

He had picked up a slim petite girl, barely eighteen he figured. She had been willing and eager until he hit her the first time. She was resistant, so he knew how to curb that behaviour.

He slapped her twice more before throwing her on to the bed. He’d show her who was boss and what happened when you didn’t comply.

He threw himself on top of her only to feel the girl’s knee thrust into his groin.

The pain was immense, and he doubled up planning his next assault, which wouldn’t be anywhere as nice as his last one.

But he found himself being rolled onto his back, his hands still holding his crushed testicles.

Sitting astride him was not the girl he had been engaging with. This was someone different.

He stared at her unable to make out the change and how it had happened.

Then she spoke: “I’m Esther, Summer’s other half. You’ve been a pig, and when that happens, I send her into hiding and take over. You want to play with fire Mister then you come play with me.”

Her eyes said it all. They penetrated his head, saw the weakling that he was and smiled at him in a way that made it clear to him that she thought very little of him.

“Now,” she said, “what fun can I have with you?”

“I’ll teach you to defy me,” he roared through pursed lips, lifting a freed hand to strike at Esther.

The words had barely left his lips when he felt her hand around his throat. She pushed down on his throat and at the same time her knees once again engaged in the most painful way with his manhood.

His eyes bulged as the pain registered. She saw the fear in his eyes, as he stared at a woman with no compunction but to deliver him torment in the most obvious of ways.

“You’re a little man with a tiny dick, you think that was going to please me. I want you out of here, now! But first, tell Summer you’re sorry.”

With that, he saw that Esther had gone and the petite Summer there, sitting atop of him.

“She gone?”

“No,” replied Summer, she’s over in the corner awaiting your apology.

The man looked around unsure of where Esther might be. “I’m sorry miss,” he stammered, “Can I get out of here now?”

“Certainly,” answered Summer, “ just leave your money on the dresser.”

“Money? You want me to pay for that?”

Again he felt her hand around his throat and reached for his wallet, leaving all he had.

“You have to be more selective Summer.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I could have killed him.”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/04/17/photo-challenge-210/

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Wordle #192 – When an Atheist Dies.

Posted on April 16, 2018 by Michael

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This week’s word and phrases: Flip Insincere Erupt Sensualization (n.)) to render sensual) Hellish Faraway Resist Radical Jangled Up- Generally refers to the state of being both upset and confused, but can be used for either one of them alone Charity Case Debilitating Archetype

Usually, when death stopped by some aging soul or anyone actually, the work of the Angels was made easy when the deceased was affiliated with a religion of some kind. But when the soul belonged to an atheist, this was another kettle of fish.

The angels in question were Greg, the angel from on high and Wayne the angel from downstairs. Their jobs were to determine the soul’s final destination and point them in the right direction.

Today an atheist had arrived, and they both breathed deeply knowing they would have their work cut out for them. It was common for the soul in question to be jangled up. After a lifetime of believing there was nothing beyond death, it came as a surprise, to say the least. Often they would erupt with a combination of surprise and indignity.

They would often resist, insisting they were in a dream and that they were the archetype atheist holding firm to their radical notion of no God and no afterlife.

It was at this point that Greg and Wayne would sit the soul down and explain the waywardness of their views.

They found it debilitating to have to explain what was for them the bleeding obvious, but to flip a soul from one belief to another was never easy.

There was the choice of going up or down and the attraction of choosing one or the other. It was literally a hellish choice for some as hell did offer the best sushi and heaven the best ham sandwiches.

Added to that hell did have a much more sensualisation aspect to it, what with promiscuity and alcohol readily available and heaven on the other hand, as faraway, did appeal to those for whom hymn singing and alcohol-free wine throughout their eternity as the way to go.

Often the atheistic soul would erupt in dismay at the prospect of more ‘life’ to be had, though the term eternity and what that meant was as faraway in their comprehension as one might imagine. They refused to believe they had become a charity case and after a time of not believing a word they were being told as the two angels before them appeared nothing like the angels from what they recalled from their childhood Sunday School lessons.

Both entities appeared as well dressed gentlemen in pin-striped suits. Once it became clear this was their here and now the soul realising the situation it was in, decided insincerity could lead to something dire, so they carefully rethought their predicament and decided it was best to act with sincerity.

For Wayne and Greg, it was an exhausting business and once the soul was delivered to their version of eternity they retired to Hells kitchen after a stop off at the only place in Heaven that made a decent ham sandwich, there to enjoy a hellishly good coffee and sushi to die for.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/04/16/wordle-192/

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The View Out My Office Window.

Posted on April 16, 2018 by Michael

In response to Stevie Turner’s blog where she has shown a photo of what she sees through her window when working on her computer.

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My work space has changed a little in recent times. It’s in the front of my house hence the security screens on the window. But it does look over my favourite black rose which in recent weeks has blossomed, I imagine the rain has helped.

This rose is very old as when my mother sold her mother’s house next door to us she ‘rescued’ few things, the rose included. When I moved in to care my aging father, he said I was free to do whatever I wanted in the garden but NOT to kill the black rose. A little rose food from time to time and a good prune in July and it seems to thrive.

Below is a photo I took yesterday of the rose in all its glory. The added attraction with this rose is has a very strong Turkish Delight scent to it, for as you’d know Turkish Delight is made from rose water.

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Written and shown for: https://steviet3.wordpress.com/2018/04/15/the-view-from-my-window/

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Weekend Writing Prompt #50 – Evergreen – The Evergreen was Timeless.

Posted on April 16, 2018 by Michael

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Prose Challenge – Write a story with a word limit of 125 words on the theme of ‘timelessness’.

As kids the evergreen was timeless. We pushed through the thick canopy, carved labyrinths between the trucks of trees awash with greenery.

We built cubby houses, with lookouts with no memory of what we looked out for as the world and the evergreen was ours.

Every kid in the street enjoyed the excitement of the make-believe we created, monsters were just around the corner, aliens had to be fought off, explorers scurried through openings and found birds nests sometimes with eggs, often times long abandoned. But mostly we were invisible to authority.

We found ourselves in caverns of green, hidden from the outside world where we engaged in secreting of our treasures.

I wandered by yesterday, the evergreen as timeless as ever it was.

 

Written for: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/04/14/weekend-writing-prompt-50-evergreen/

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Sunday Writing Prompt “Collage Prompt 40” – The Effing Pride Festival

Posted on April 15, 2018 by Michael

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The town of Effing prided itself on being different. For years it suffered the derision of neighbouring communities such as the time it combined its football team with the team from the neighbouring village of Bastard who in all honesty was having a hard enough time of it anyway. To say the Effing Bastards was a mistake was an understatement.

But since then Effing had gone about doing all it could to improve its image. The annual town pride festival was about, to begin with town beautification high on the agenda.

A series of competitions were organised, promotional slogans devised, such as “My Town is Effing beautiful”.

It gave rise to people taking pride in their homes, hedges and edges were trimmed, weeds removed, gardens cultivated and for those participating took great Effing pride.

The local library featured the books of the two leading Effing authors, Wilbur Wilson and Gertrude Stunned who were marketed as Effing good writers. People were encouraged to attend the Effing library and show their support to the two authors when they did readings.

A cooking competition was held and Effing’s favourite cook, Di Piper, promised to make the best Effing scones the town had ever tasted. With the help of her husband, Tom, her chief taster and critic she was off on her Effing mission.

The one thing that Effing was growing in fame over was its clock exhibition. The annual Effing Tick Toc display was one to behold. Held in the Effing School of Arts Hall it featured a magnificent array of clocks large and small, modern and antique. The sound of them all ticking at once gave rise to the age-old expression, ‘You can’t hear yourself Effing think.’

The festival was always a success, and no one could say you couldn’t eff it up like Effing could.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/04/15/sunday-writing-prompt-collage-prompt-40/

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#SoCS April 14/18 – mon

Posted on April 14, 2018 by Michael

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On Monday I won money in the lotto. You know how it works, you pick six numbers you win a million.

But to illustrate how hard a game it is this is what happened to me.

Six numbers would have won me a million.

I had five numbers and won four hundred.

The numbers were my kid’s birthdays, and I happily pointed out the daughter whose birthdate didn’t come out how she had robbed me a million.

So each Monday now I hope money comes my way.

But it’s a hard game.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2018/04/13/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-14-18/

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First Line Friday: April 13th, 2018

Posted on April 13, 2018 by Michael

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The dance lessons were not working. It was plainly obvious. The promise of teaching his feet to co-ordinate was going nowhere.

His teacher was looking resigned more and more to the fact his student was plainly unco.

So much for his desire to woo the beautiful Hayley. She attended the same dance class as he did. She was tall, dark-haired and lithe in ways that made his inability to dance with even a modicum of grace all the more frustrating.

As a result of several attempts to be dance partners and her feet suffering the assault he subjected them too, it was agreed she would take a new partner and he extra dance lessons.

Across the room, he watched her dance gracefully around the room with Bill Woodfull a man twice her age and as smelly as old men can get. There was no doubt she was enjoying a new dance partner, they did move well together, but then again Bill, despite his age, had been dancing a long time and would make any partner look good.

He had to forego dreams of dancing with Hayley for the withered hands of Iris Keith who to her credit encouraged him to try harder and to concentrate on what they were doing, a Pride of Erin at the time.

At break time she sidled up to him to ask how the lessons were going.

“I have two left feet I’m afraid,” he said dejectedly, “I think I may have to give all this away, Iris’ feet are doing as well as yours.”

“Oh please don’t give up,” she implored, “ I’d miss you. You’re the only reason I come to dance lessons. Bill drives me mad, he never stops talking, and I haven’t a clue what he’s on about.”

“But I thought you liked dancing.”

“I do, but you know if it came down to it I’d dance the Town Hall Crawl with you just to be held close.”

This last statement floored him. He never suspected she felt that way. As they departed and made their way to their respective partners, she squeezed his hand, “See you at the end? We could go for a drink?”

For the rest of the lesson time, he floated.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/04/13/first-line-friday-april-13th-2018/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #Week 32

Posted on April 13, 2018 by Michael

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It was never easy. The triggers are there. The door to the past is never completely closed as much as we’d like it to be.

The public ridicule is real; I expect it any time I go out. I’m sure its deserving.

That’s the thing of course; I never thought at the time that all these years later the fear would still be there, so I happily stay in my protected world.

It’s easy to avoid people, you go out only when you want to, like the early morning, you never browse in the shops, you know what you want, you get it and go home.

Conversation becomes difficult, you become aware of being the boring person in the room so chat grows more and more strained and you understand when people move away and look for someone more stimulating.

My second attempt at a relationship was a disaster. It started off so well, as they do, all love and sparkly eyes.

But she said she saw my ‘potential’. Wanted to make me a better me.

We can all be better, but we don’t have to sell our souls to achieve it. That was her aim. Change me into a version she approved of. Therefore everything the old me, the real me, stood for was challenged. It struck fear into me. My identity was challenged, I began to believe the bullshit, and I spent hours questioning why I did certain things. She spent hours in public places doing the same.

I became paralysed.

I felt my sense of self shrinking into a place I hated more than anything she was doing. I began to wonder why it was I was so hated as towards the end she rejected everything about me. I wasn’t complying.

The long-term effects are there as I said at the start. Avoid people, stay away from crowds especially social functions. I know I don’t belong.

There are some things I cannot talk about even today.

I have been fortunate in that I have moved from darkness into a light where the blue sky warms me and gives me purpose.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2018/04/13/reenas-exploration-challenge-week-32/

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Time To Write: Set The Scene 8 [Creative Writing Prompt]

Posted on April 13, 2018 by Michael

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I was relieved to find my hotel room after a long day on the road. It wasn’t anything special but rather just what I needed, a place to stop and rest.

The bed I discovered was firm and comfortable, the pillows soft and supportive.

There was the standard tea and coffee supplied, and I relaxed before bed with a steaming coffee not caring about the effect the caffeine might have on me as I knew exhaustion would override any of its effects.

My room had a window overlooking a courtyard surrounded by rooms similar to mine.

I could see people coming and going, watching television. Some had their curtains drawn so I could only speculate as to what was happening in there. Sleep no doubt?

In a bottom room, I saw a couple arguing and the woman being struck. A splat of blood spread across the window. Horrified I stood and watched hoping I had been mistaken and that nothing untoward had occurred.

Quickly the curtains of the room were drawn, and I was left wondering what I might do if anything.

 

Written for: https://rachelpoli.com/2018/04/13/time-to-write-set-the-scene-8-creative-writing-prompt/

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April 12: Flash Fiction Challenge – Bat

Posted on April 13, 2018 by Michael

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April 12, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a bat. You can use an association to the winged, cave-dwelling critter, or you can explore the word for other meanings. Bonus points for including a bat cave. Go where the prompt leads.

In Australia, the word bat is synonymous with cricket. We use a bat to play the game. Two teams play, one-team bats with each batter batting and wearing batting gloves until they get out and when one team has finished batting the other side then bats.

We talk about going in to bat for a friend, to offer them help and support.

We do have tiny furry bats hanging in trees and being in some places a nuisance.

We refer to eccentric relatives as going batty, but overall it’s a word with many meanings we love to bat around.

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2018/04/13/april-12-flash-fiction-challenge/

 

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