#ThursThreads Week 60 : We Should Fix That

It was 10:15 Monday night. It was also cold, and snowing. “Welcome to Buffalo,” I muttered as I sat at my computer, reading Slashdot.

My doorbell rang. I sat there a moment, not sure I’d heard it. It happened again. I looked at the time on my computer. “Someone better have a good reason for this.”

I got up, and headed to my front door. As I did, I heard Lilly’s voice, “Tommy! Let me in!” I quickly turned on the porch light, unlocked the dead bolt, and the lock, and pulled the door chain, and let her in.

He had on a hat, and big faux fur coat and high heels. “It’s a nasty night out there!” she shivered and stomped her feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to visit you.” She turned her back to me, pulled off her hat, and started to unbutton her coat. I stared at my feet. “Here. Put these up.” Without looking up, I took her had ,and coat, and hung them on the coat rack. Then I looked back at her to ask what she was doing visiting that late at night.

Lilly was standing there, in my foyer, wearing nothing but high heels. My jaw bounced off the floor. “You’re…”

“Naked,” she finished my sentence for me. “And you’re not.” She stepped forward, and started unbuttoning my shirt. “We should fix that.”

I’ll never forget that night, even after I’m dead.

250 Words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Siobhan Muir‘s #ThursThreads, Week 60. Hope you enjoy it. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are good reading.

#55WordChallenge : The Fence, Part 6

The trail led into the forest. The sunlight filtered through the tree limbs and leaves, lending a surreal feel to everything. After six hours into the trees, I saw him. Dressed in red, with long hair, and a white beard. He looked at me, laughed, and then moved so fast, I couldn’t track him.


This is the 6th part of the serial story I’m working on for Lisa McCourt Hollar‘s weekly #55WordChallenge flash fiction challenge. Please, go read all the other entries in the challenge this week. I find it amazing what gifted writers can say in just 55 words.

#VisDare 9 : Alone?

The train left the tunnel, running above ground. It stopped at a train station. Alice extended her hand, and smiled, “Please?” I could not resist the light in her eyes, so I took her hand. She led me from the train.

“Welcome to Phoenix,” she gently squeezed my hand.

She laughed when she saw my questioning look. “Phoenix?”

“It’s a story you’ll learn, in time.”

We exited the station into a large courtyard. A tall stone monument stood alone, near the train station. Drops of water fell from the sky. I let go of Alice’s hand, and sat on the base of the monument.

Alice sat down beside me. “You’ve never seen rain, have you?”

“Rain?” I looked up, letting the small drops of water strike my face. “I think I like rain.”

I took her hand, and we sat in the rain.

147 Words
@LurchMunster


This piece is the sixth in a continuing story I’m working through for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare. Please read the other entries in this week’s Visual Dare challenge. I like all of them.

#MondayMixer : Simon’s Playhouse

Simon’s Playhouse sat next to the river, its windows boarded, its doors chained shut. The flowerbeds along its sidewalks only grew weeds. More weeds grew through the cracks in the sidewalk, and in the parking lot.

We’d all been sad when Simon’s closed. But Simon got what he deserved. Sanctimonious old fart, sitting in his office day after day, pulling out illegal Cuban cigars from the humidor on his desk. We’d really wanted to hold the show at Simon’s. We could have saved it, brought new life to it.

The pompous old bastard wouldn’t pay us what we needed to break even, and pay our cast. We’d opened at Theo’s. We’ve been a hit. Our third year just started last month. Simon’s closed two weeks later. In time, like Simon himself, Simon’s Playhouse will be nothing but a memory.

150 words.
@LurchMunster


I wrote this little ditty for Jeffery Hollar‘s weekly Monday Mixer flash fiction challenge. Please, go read all the other entries in this week’s challenge. They are all well crafted.

#5SF : Abandoned

He lives under the abandoned bridge on Route 631, in a big cardboard box with Samsung logos on its sides. Like the bridge, he’s abandoned, falling apart, rotting. Some day both of them will be gone. I’ve spoken with him, and he says life abandoned him. But I wonder if the truth is something happened in his life that caused him to abandon it.


Here’s my weekly attempt at Lillie McFerrin‘s flash fiction challenge, Five Sentence Fiction. This week, the prompt is Abandoned.

Please, go read all the other entries to this week’s Five Sentence Fiction. It’s amazing what creative people can do with just five sentences.

Who Are You?

I wonder sometimes
If I know anyone at all.
Or if all I know
Of anyone
Is the image,
The façade,
The carefully crafted lie
They want me to see.

I wonder sometimes
Who you really are.
I know you aren’t really
The person that I see
At work every day.
That’s not really you.
That’s who you believe
The world demands you be.
That’s an image
You have crafted
Carefully, and over time.

An image made to control
What people think of you.
That shows you are responsible.
Professional,
Dependable,
Mature,
Grown up.

You don’t cut your hair
When you want to, do you.
You cut it to maintain
An image
You want people to believe.

You don’t buy the clothing
You want to, do you.
You buy the clothes
You wear each day
To keep that image
In place.

You dress the part each day.
You play the part each day.
You wear the clothes.
Trim fingernails,
Cut hair,
To maintain that image
That everybody knows.

That’s not all there is to you
Is it?
That image?
That lie?

I remember the words
Of the Lenten Rose.
“It’s hard, sometimes.”
The rest was left unspoken.
But I knew,
Even then.
I knew.

It’s hard sometimes
To keep that lie
In place.
That image you believe
The world demands you be.

I remember the words
Of my one time boss.
When he said to me,
“You can’t be like that!”

I knew he was wrong.
I understood what he was saying.
That in the working world
There was only one way
I could be.
That I couldn’t have a heart.
I couldn’t have a soul.
In that world
I had to become
What that world expected of me.

I remember the words
Of the one that left.
Because she couldn’t understand
That I can’t lie.

“I have to manage everything
That happens.
I have to watch the things
I do.
The things my friends do
With me.
So that I control
What other people
Think of me.”

She flat-out said
She has to live a lie.

That’s such a sad thing
Isn’t it.

I know too
Why I’m not in that world
I once lived in.

I can’t live that lie.
Doing so
Damn near killed me.

So, these days,
I wink.
I smile.
I try hard
Not to laugh.
When I encounter you.
Because I know.

The person you show me
Isn’t really
Who you are.

And I wonder these days
If you even know.
Or have you forgotten
Who you are.

And all I really wonder
When I talk with you
Is

Who are you?

#VisDare 8 : Listen

The door closed behind us, and Alice kept pulling me along. We were in another hall, that led to a train tunnel. A train was waiting. Alice pulled me into a car, and thought, “Please, sit where you wish.”

I sat next to the doors of the car. The train started moving. “Listen, Alice,” I asked, my voice filling the car, “You’re pretty, so I don’t mind following you, but I’d like to know where we’re going.”

Two voices spoke in my head. One was Alice. I’d never heard the other. I didn’t understand either voice. When the voices stopped, Alice sat down beside me, and spoke, “I’ll  tell you where we are going, but first,” she looked at me and smiled. I thought she had a gorgeous smile, stunning eyes, and very kissable lips. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

150 Words
@LurchMunster


This piece is the fifth in a continuing story I’m working through for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare. Please read the other entries in this week’s Visual Dare challenge. I like all of them.