Love in an Unexpected Place

This little tidbit is from a prompt: write about finding love in an unexpected place.




Trey shuffled across the room, the tile floor cold and hard beneath his bare feet. The lights were all dimmed, but he could still see with a clarity that even he found surprising. The lab coat he had pilfered did little to cover up his nakedness or warm him up. But he would worry about finding more clothes later. For now he was only concerned with finding the source of the noise he had heard.

As he reached the far wall of cubicles, he noticed that one door has slid slightly ajar. He felt the first fingers of fear dipping into his chest, but his curiosity was still overwhelming. He reached out and opened the door. Inside, the cubicle was dark and silent.

"In for a penny, in for a pound," he muttered to himself. Though it sounded more like Infp-y, infp-owd to his own ears. He reached into the cubicle and pulled out the sliding drawer.

On all the cop shows he used to love on TV, body bags were always black. So he was mildly surprised to see that this particular body bag was white, and not quite opaque enough to hide the body inside. His hand quivering, he reached for the zipper and slowly slid it open.

The bag fell away, revealing a woman. Her raven hair offset her pale skin and blue lips in a way that probably made her even more beautiful in death than she had been in life. She was slim, but not too slim, and fine boned. To Trey, she looked like a fragile porcelain doll. He reached out and gently stroked her full, blue lips with his thumb.

Her eyes flew open so suddenly that he almost stumbled over his own uncooperative feet as he tried to back away quickly. Blue, he thought to himself as he watched her slowly sit up, looking around in confusion. Her eyes are ice blue.

She looked at him, bewildered. He saw her eyes go wide as she noticed he was naked under his lab coat. Her eyes went even wider when she realized she was completely naked in front of a stranger.

She looked at him, fear causing her eyes to glow fetchingly, and opened her mouth. "nggg, mmmm," she gasped, her mouth working like a fish's.

Realizing her words made no sense to herself, she reached up and gingerly touched her fingers to her lips, as if checking to see if they moved. She paused, staring at her hand, finally noticing just how pale and blue-tinged her complexion had become. She looked at Trey again, her eyes pleading and helpless.

He thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.

He shuffled over to her, his arms, though leaden, reaching out to her. "Inng kay. Uv ooo."

Everything's okay. I love you.

Extreme goofyness

Something bad happened to this writing prompt between the computer and my notepad: it became stupid. The prompt was to write a short piece about dating advice. I haven't the foggiest clue how I managed to turn it into goofy camp horror.

“It’s all about the eyes,” Vlad said.

Wolfman clucked his tongue. “No it’s not. Chicks dig wild boys!”

“Errgh. Strong!” Frankie interjected.

“Nonsense. Women enjoy men with a sense of style, elegance, class. Someone who can lavish them with fine wines, someone who can dance the tango with them. Someone with impeccable taste.”

“Give me a break. The only ‘taste’ you have is OF them.” He and Frankie shared a chuckle. “Sure, you start out alright. But you know chicks freak out when you do your crazy rat thing. Chicks hate mice.”

“Bat!” Vlad shouted indignantly. “It’s a bat!” He paused to sip his latte. “And it’s not like the two of you are such ladies men. One look at you, you hairy beast, and they run away screaming.” Vlad glanced over at Frankie. “And you,” he said, his lips curled in disgust. “I don’t even think the Fab 5 could help you.”

Frankie grunted menacingly and pounded his fist against the table.

Wolfie’s gaze roamed to the coffee counter. The café was in the middle of a shift change, and they were getting a new waitress. A wolfish grin spread across his face. “Okay, Vlad. Put your money where your mouth is. When the new waitress comes over, let’s see who can sweep her off her feet.”

Vlad glanced over at the girl. Their original waitress was handing her book of tabs over to the new girl. “Ick,” Vlad said. “She’s type AB. I hate AB.”

Wolfie’s eyes blazed with challenge. “What’s the matter Vlad? Chicken?”

“Errrgggh. Chicken.” Frankie said, his mouth watering.

Vlad pretended to brush a piece of lint from his blood red tie. “No, of course not. It’s just that I find AB so distasteful.”

Wolfie rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking you to marry her. Let’s just see who can get her to agree to a date. Unless,” he leaned back in his chair and tilted his chin up, “you’re ready to give up and admit that the ladies dig me more.”

Vlad laughed, a rich, velvety laugh that caused every head in the café to swivel his direction. He leaned across the table, his voice low. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I accept the challenge.”

Wolfie smiled and turned to Frankie. “So, you want to get in on this?”

“Errgggh! Chicken,” Frankie answered back.

Tardy Posts

I've fallen behind, so today you receive two posts for the price of one!

The first assignment was to write a cinquain about chocolates. The second was to write a short about a Valentine's Day surprise.

---

Appetizer: the cinquain

A gift
of chocolates
I see: rich token of
my love; you see: comment on your
big butt

---

Main course: short

Mirabelle set the crockpot to warm and checked on the side dishes. She nodded to herself, satisfied that everything would stay warm until she returned. And if not, that’s what they made microwaves for. She chuckled to herself.

She glanced at the table again, double-checking everything with a hypercritical eye. The silverware, china, and crystal glasses were spotless. The $500 wine was already on the table breathing. All the flower blossoms in the centerpiece were standing at attention and blemish free. She smiled again. Everything had to be perfect for her valentine’s dinner. And everything had passed inspection.

She rushed back to her bedroom and ran a brush through her raven colored hair until it shimmered like silk, the light catching it and filling it with stars. As she rushed out of the room, she caught her reflection in the full-length mirror. She paused in front of it and frowned.

She turned this way and that, looking herself over carefully. The black dress she had chosen was perfect. Almost perfect, anyway. It covered her over-muscled thighs nicely. But she didn’t like the way the thin straps revealed her arms. Her arms bulged in a definite unfeminine way. She bit her lip and rushed to the closet, desperate to bring herself to perfection, too. She pulled out a blood-red fitted blazer and quickly threw it on.

She resurveyed herself in the mirror and her smile returned. The jacket emphasized her narrow waist and jet black hair nicely. Most importantly, it covered up her arms. It was, however, a little snug around the shoulders. So she’d have to be careful.

Satisfied that everything was ready, she rushed out the door. Her heart was pounding, her breathing rapid, in anticipation of Jake’s delighted expression at all she had prepared for him.

~~~~~~~~~

She watched Jake’s house from the security of her car for almost half an hour. Several times she saw his shadow cross in front of the picture window. Several times she laid her hand on the door handle of her car, her heart pounding in her ears. Each time, she would lose her nerve and return her hand to her lap.

When she saw headlights approaching slowly, as if someone else was about to stop at Jake’s house, she decided she had better act. She rushed out of the car, afraid of losing her nerve, and ran up the walk.

She could hardly hear the doorbell over her pounding heart.

Jake opened the door. He obviously wasn’t expecting company, since he was dressed in an undershirt and sweat pants. Mirabelle thought he looked delicious.

His expression was puzzled at first. “Can I help you?” But as Mirabelle stood silent, a smile from ear to ear, comprehension spread across his face.

His eyes grew wide as he backed away from her, shaking his head.

She walked into the foyer, the smile never leaving her face, her eyes never leaving Jake’s.

“I’m not going.” He said, crossing his arms. His voice sounded certain, but she could see the fear and confusion in his eyes.

She paused, her smile faltering. “But you have to.”

He shook his head vehemently. “No I don’t.”

Mirabelle frowned. In her plans, this had went more smoothly than it was playing out. “Yes, you do. I’ve chosen you. It’s the law.”

Jake darted into the living room, putting distance between them. “I don’t care. I’m not going.” Some of the fear had gone from his eyes. She could see defiance growing in them now.

She tensed and took a few steps closer to him. “Yes, you do,” she said slowly, as though speaking to an uncooperative child. “We can do this easy or we can do this hard. But it will be done. I’ve chosen you as my mate and you have to come.” She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t honored by her choice.

His eyes darted around the room for a weapon. Finding none, he tensed up for a hand-to-hand fight. “I won’t cooperate. I’ll run away.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. The town elders will hunt you down and kill you. That’s just the way it is.” Her eyes grew softer and she held out her hand to him. “I’m not going to hurt you, Jake. Not unless you make me. Just come with me. It’ll be much better that way.” She smiled gently. “I’ll be very good to you. I promise.”

Writing group assignment: first date

The current writing assignment was to write about a first date. I'm posting an excerpt here. You'll find that I rarely post a whole story. The reason is that once a story has been published on the web, even if published in a small blog, editors and publishers considered it to have run its "first printing." So it would be difficult to market any story that was previously published in the blog. To that end, I only publish excerpts. If you wish to read the rest of the story, you'll have to wait until I get it published.


Lou pushed a small box across the table. She picked it up, casting a quick puzzled glance at him before examining the box more closely. It was small, about the size of a jewelry case, wrapped in maroon and gold paper, tied with a delicate gold bow.

“What is it?” She frowned.

“Just a small gift,” he shrugged.

She put the package back on the table and shook her head. “Oh no, I can't.” She resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her pants and instead folded them in her lap. “It's only our first date.” And I just knew things were going too great. You would have to turn out to be a weirdo.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I know. But it's not like an engagement ring or anything.” He laughed a little. “My mother always told me never to go empty-handed. If I was invited to your home for a dinner party, I'd bring a house-warming gift.” He regarded the package for a moment and then placed it closer to her again. “Just think of this as a date-warming gift.”

Eloise raised one eyebrow, but smiled in spite of herself at his warmth and genuineness. “A date-warming gift,” she repeated uncertainly.

He shrugged, his warm smile never leaving his face. “I'm just being polite, that’s all.”

She watched him for a moment more, looking in his big brown eyes for some excuse to be alarmed. Finding none, she sighed and slowly unwrapped the gift. As soon as it was unwrapped her brow furrowed again.

She looked up at him, her head cocked sideways. “What is it?”

“It's a necklace. Try it on.” His smile broadened.

She grasped the leather cord and dangled the necklace in front of her face. Instead of a pendant, it was strung with a single tiny bottle, filled with a liquid-silver material.

Her mouth turned down in disgust. “What's in the bottle?”

He laughed. “Just a good luck potion.”

She looked at him skeptically.

“Seriously. It's just a fun little thing. Try it on.”

She thought for a moment, wondering what harm could come of wearing it. Finding none, she moved the slide-knots on the leather cord until the loop was large enough to slip over her head.

She examined the bottle for a moment as it lay coolly against her skin. It actually is kind of pretty, she thought.

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Are you sure this isn't some kind of potion to make me fall madly in love with you forever?”

He laughed, a rich, warm sound that felt like being wrapped in the softest of blankets. “I wish!” He reached out and took her hand. “But I'm afraid I still have to do that the old fashioned way.”

Another poetry assignment

This time the assignment was to write a septet about marriage. Having never been married (nor desiring to be married), I had to draw on a little imagination. I guess you really can teach an old dog new tricks.


In the world
I’m Joe Nobody.
But in the golden glow of
This home she makes for us, where pot roast
and understanding are her
gifts to me, I’m Joe
Somebody.

(this poetry stuff is so fun it's SCARY)