Karen; again.

Karen; again.

Yesterday was very busy at work; in the morning. I'd been thinking about Karen and how I've not written in awhile. Yesterday I took to work the bag I keep my notes on Karen and what I've written by hand. I started writing in the afternoon and the story once again came flowing from me; yippie. I wrote again when we got home, after dinner until about 10:30.

Here is a bit :)

Certainly what she saw or imagined she saw earlier had been scary but here, now, Thomas was not scary. He was inviting? Yes, he was inviting; and hot. It was funny that Karen could think about him as being hot at a time like this. What kind of time was this any way? Was she talking to a dead guy that wasn’t really a dead guy or just loosing her mind? Sure it had been several month since she felt the attention of a man. She didn’t even want to think about how long it had been since she felt more than just a man’s attention. Karen always believed that Mr. Right was out there somewhere. She just had not run into him yet. She yearned for him. It saddened her when she stopped to think about him being out there without her because then he too was probably alone.

written by SMF 2011

posted 6-27-2012 originally PAGREENERY

 

One more time around the block.

One more time around the block...

The sun was shining as it did most summer days in California. They waited at the edge of the garage one foot inside the garage and one foot outside straddling the black seam sealer between the concrete garage floor and the driveway. They teetered from one foot to the other in anticipation. Burt's garage was connected to his house. All the houses in this housing tract had attached garages. Most houses did in the surrounding neighborhoods as well. His house was painted the color salmon with brown trim and brown window shudders. They weren't the functioning type of window shudders. No need really in the area of California where they lived. They were just decorative. Inside the garage was something they'd only seen on TV or in the movies. Their friend's Dad was working on his dune buggy. They thought it was cool and he promised the young girls a ride. He backed the dune buggy out of the garage. Mingled with the sound of the engine were the squeals and giggles of the girls as they skipped, hopped and skittered along side while the buggy inched down the driveway. He stopped the buggy. Smiling at his daughter and her friends he gave them the nod to climb aboard. Climb aboard they did in their summer capris or shorts and colorful sleeveless tops. They all wore sneakers with no socks. The girls numbered four. Two of the neighbor girls and his two daughters. The girls were roughly all about the same age between 8 and 10 years old. Of the neighbor girls, Mary's auburn brown hair was in a short pixie cut while her Sister Chrissy wore her blond hair in pony tails. His daughters were as different as night and day, Bonnie had shoulder length wavy blond hair which miraculously always seemed in place. His youngest daughter Toni's ruddy red hair had a short bobbed cut. Her Mother Carmen was tired of combing out the knots and tangles. Toni was a bit of a tomboy. Burt backed out his driveway on to the street. He revved the engine, smiling at the wide eyes and ear to ear grins of his daughters and their friends. Down the street they went. He circled the block two times before returning to his house. All four girls climbed off the dune buggy when they realized Burt was not going to give in to their begging and make one more trip around the block. Mary singed her calf on the hot tailpipe when climbing off the buggy but wasn't about to let on to her friends or Burt. She wouldn't want to jeopardize any future rides.



Lu'
5/21/12

How could she know...

How could she know...

Stephanie walked slowly toward the sound. She was certain no one would walk quickly to the sound she heard. OK so maybe the sounds she heard would draw in a paramedic, an ER Doctor, a triage surgeon or quite possible a horror film aficionado. As she walked deliberately across the floor she noted the carpet give beneath her feet. She glanced around the room which had in time emptied of occupants. As she reached the door, with slight hesitation she wrapped her hand around the knob and turned. At the first separation of door from jam the sound intensified and she stopped; stopped cold. She steeled her nerve to press on down the hall. The hallway was linoleum and her heels clacked loudly mingling with the sounds of horror. She clacked her way to the curtain concealing the unspeakable. With a trembling hand she drew back the curtain. The scene she witnessed sent a chill down her spine and sadness to her heart. There, lying prone and helpless with limbs flailing was Tony; her Tony. He was there at her urging. He didn't want to go. He was affraid. How could she have known it would happen this way, it was just a root canal. Boy was Tony going to give her hell when he was able. Stephanie made a note to send her Dentist a nice card; just because...


Inspired by Dice :)

S7 Challenge 7 Broken China

Campaign, banshee, gallop, playpen, snatch, orangutan, stipend

This year’s campaign for Toggs on Bods was finally over. Bartan could now stop screaming like a banshee at those wisp of a willow models and settle in to a venti Carmel Brulee Latte; ‘tis the season *snap*. He summoned his assistant Gail commanding she gallop out quick for his beloved coffee “Don’t forget China” he shouts after her. Bartan sniggered as Gail galloped off for his coffee and China. Gail had chestnut hair and broad quarters like his favorite mare Tyra. Gail left the design house forgetting her coat but even in the brisk night air of winter waving for a taxi she did not feel cold. Her hatred for Bartan kept her warm. She detested his I’m the queen of the manor attitude but she put up with him as the price of admission to fashion’s inner circle. She would go to Bartan’s place the playpen as she liked to call it, no need for Starbuck’s tonight. Exiting the elevator Gail heads for apartment 1818, the corner apartment with the best view of Manhattan on the 18th floor. Unlocking the door seeing bits and pieces of China laying about the living room filled her with a frenzied delight. She took a look around the apartment before dialing 911 then she phoned Bartan. Once he stopped berating her for her delay she said “come home right away”, “I called 911”, “it is bad” and then she hung up. Gail reached in her purse for her camera to snatch a picture or two before the 911 responders arrived. The police arrived on scene first. Officer Geo Spangolupolus was a large orangutan type of man. His partner David St. John in contrast was like a tall drink of water to a very thirsty woman. Gail made a mental note of David’s badge number and the fact he wore no wedding ring. Bartan got to the apartment about the same time as the EMT’s. It was Officer Geo who caught Bartan just as he eeked out a sound and collapsed upon seeing his beloved China. A gruesome site it was to see China laying dead on the living room floor his skin patterned out as if by Jame “Buffalo Bill” Gumb from Silence of the Lambs. China was Bartan’s lover for the past year or so, he loved him dearly. Only Gail knew that China was seeing someone on the side. She’d stumbled on what would be the motive for murder. Officer David knelt beside the body picking up bloodied pinking shears, Bartan’s shears, with his pen to maintain the integrity of any prints. Gail knew whose prints the shears would not carry, the gloves she wore took care of that. She’d killed China just as Bartan closed his apartment door leaving for the fashion show. She had to be quick to ensure opportunity for the murder. She only patterned off a portion of the chest and backside in the interest of time but felt this was a nice touch to add. Bartan would surely be suspect for the murder just as Gail planned. The abuse she was subjected to and the small stipend she received for her exceptional work was one thing but when Bartan took her fashion ideas as his own well that was too much. She will get another job in the industry and in time have a showing of her own designs. While waiting for that day she sips the current coffee flavor of the month. The baristas put her coffee in a beautiful china mug at her request. She sits content and a bit amused picturing Bartan strutting the cat walk for Bubba and the other cell mates on Riker’s.

S7 Challenge 6 Better off dead

Opponent, breaking, exchanged, said, else, Theresa, he.

Chantelle had once been Bette’s friend, her best friend. The depth of betrayal perpetrated by Chantelle necessitated a change in her status from friend to opponent. Bette, while breaking one of Chantelle’s fingers for each letter, spoke softly O snap P snap P snap O snap N snap E snap N snap T snap. Looking at Chantelle’s two unbroken thumbs Bette picked up her garden snips and pruned off those thumbs placing them back on Chantelle’s hands but exchanged left to right and right to left, snickering just a little she secured them with duct tape. Bette brushed back her blonde hair from her eyes leaving behind traces of Chantelle’s blood on her fair pale skin. Oddly the red blood and pale skin were complimented by her striking blue eyes. Wake up! Bette said shrieking then slapped Chantelle’s face hard; twice. Chantelle opened her eyes slightly and whispered Bette? Who else but Bette she cried, have you betrayed more than one friend lately? Slapping Chantelle again, wishing she had not slipped quite so much sleeping powder in to her wine Bette proceeded to get Chantelle dressed in the witch’s outfit and in to the front yard. It was nearing 9pm and the Halloween party guest would be arriving soon for the annual bash. Bette’s Sister Theresa arrived to the party first. She came dressed as Miley Cyrus from the Vanity Fair shoot. Theresa hugged her Sister mentioning that she’d out done herself on the decoration this year. She was particularly taken with the witch Bette had hanging by her neck from the tree in the front yard, commenting that the costume was quite detailed and wondered what type of stuffing was used for the witch’s body. Theresa then asked where Bette’s husband Dave was not seeing his car in the driveway. Bette taking a deep breath, looking over at the werewolf who’s head was chopped off and sitting in a basket, said “last minute errands, he would forget his head if it were not attached”

S7 Challenge 5 Last call

Cross section, rambunctious, narrow minded, effect, China, calcium carbonate, subjunctive:

Cross Section an unusually named bar & grille located at the intersection of Willow Street and DeLaqua Boulevard in Mountain Vista California was often frequented by the rambuntious students from the neighboring University in Sunnyvalley. The students of Saint Clarence University found the inhabitants of Mountain Vista to be a bit less narrow minded when it came to the effects of their alcohol induced antics. While China Morris was writing the day's lesson on the board with a fresh stick of calcium carbonate, Useage Note: The subjunctive mood of the verb... her thoughts trailing off she looks about the classroom noticing how on this Monday as with every Monday the students file in more slowly than other days in the week. Reaching down, brushing a hand over the colorful tattoo on her ankle she is reminded of a time not to long ago when she could be found hearing “last call” at the Cross Section.

S7 Challenge 4 Not alone

Words randomly selected from the book : The Witching Hour by Ann Rice, S7= Michael, letters, Currys, loved, when, she. Oops, only six words hee hee hee.

Michael felt himself begin to tear as he read the correspondence yellowed by time neatly tied with a strip of leather. The letters left behind were penned by John Curry in 1864 during the Civil War. The emotional tug felt for the Currys by Michael was not from reading the horrors of the Civil War experienced by John rather from reading about the love he felt for his wife Beth and his Daughter Cassandra, born 2 months after he left yet again to fight for the North. From his writing it was clear he loved Beth and Cassandra with all that he was. Michael wiped a tear from his eye as he read the last letter. It was in this letter that Beth learned when and how John was killed. Michael thought she had probably not even read past the part which read, we regret to inform you your husband lost his life during the Battle of Cedar Creek. All Beth knew was she would never again see John and Cassandra would never know her Father. The death notification floated from Michael's hand as he saw another shape move across the room.