#ThursThreads Week 137 : A Tale Of Wrath – His Team Lost

Sharon stared into the mirror. She’d have to call out sick to work in the morning. No amount of eye shadow, foundation and blush would hide the bruise. She could hide the ones on her arms, and neck. But the one on her face was too much.

His team lost the game. They didn’t lose many games. She was grateful for that. It would be better if they never lost.

Every Sunday during the season, she prayed, and rooted for his team, while she hid in the kitchen, too terrified to watch the game with him. If they won, she’d be OK. He’d be horny, and she could handle that. Suck him a while, get naked on the floor, and moan as he banged her. Make him think it felt great. Ask him what he’d like her to do. When they won, everything worked out.

When they lost…

She looked in the mirror, as she whispered to God, “It’s not good when they lose. You know what I mean? He’s not himself when they lose.”

She fixed his favorite snacks while the game was on, brought him more to drink every time the other team scored. At half-time, she blew him, to calm him down. “I’ll be on the bed, after the game, waiting for you.”

When they lost, he lost it. He hit things. He broke things. He hurt her.

She knew she should leave him. She wanted to.

If only she knew how.

245 Words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Siobhan Muir‘s #ThursThreads, Week 137. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are good reading.

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#FinishThatThought Week 2-12 : Wishes Are A Bitch To Make

Two wishes wasted; this third and final one was our last chance. We sat in silence for a time, wondering how things had become so complicated. Wishes were supposed to be easy, simple things. Like, “I wish for lots of money,” or “I wish for a new car.” We’d learned they weren’t.

“Remember the day we found the lamp?” She knew I remembered.

I nodded, “In all the pottery shards at the dig.”

She giggled, and poked my arm, “You tripped over it. Then got up and kicked it.”

I’d nearly broke my foot. The lamp didn’t weigh much, but it was anchored in the ground, just it’s top showing. I kicked it, it didn’t move, and I announced that fact with a string of four letter words.

I had to laugh, “Then, we dug it up, and brushed the dirt off.”

“And out came the genie!”

“Do you know what it’s like to live in a lamp for hundreds of years?”

Of course, we hadn’t turned the lamp in. It would have gone into a museum. The genie said we were the finders of the lamp, so we had three wishes. “Be very careful. Wishes are more complicated than anyone believes.”

“You didn’t believe in the genie,” I reminded her.

“Neither did you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that made a wish.”

“It’s not my fault he turned out to be a real genie.”

I remembered her words. “Yeah. You grant wishes? OK. I wish for a magic carpet. One that flies.”

“As you wish,” the genie replied, as he shook his head, he waved his hand, and there it was. A magic carpet. One that flies. But only if nothing’s on it. “You have two wishes left. Use them wisely.”

“But I can’t ride the carpet!”

“You only wished for a magic carpet that flies. I have granted your wish.”

We spent two hours on our second wish. We planned it out, in detail. “Genie, we wish for a blue Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4.”

Our genie shook his head, sadly, waved his hands, and in a puff of smoke, there it was. A 1/24th scale model of a blue Lamborghini Aventador. “Your second wish is granted.”

That’s when we realized we’d left too many details out of our wish.

We spent all night on our third wish. Trying to get the details right. Asking each other what we’d forgotten. Wishes, it seemed, were nearly impossible to get right. “Do you have a third wish?”

“Yes, we do.”

“What is it?”

“We’ll tell you when we get our wish right. We’re not screwing this one up.”

That was six years ago. And once a month, we pull out the lamp, and work on our wish. If we ever get the details figured out, we’ll rub the lamp, and call the genie, and make our wish.

It turned out, wishes are a bitch to make.

487 words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Week 2-12 (Year 2, week 12) of Alissa Leonard‘s Finish That Thought. Please, go read all the creatively shared stories in this week’s challenge.

#MWBB – Week 2.20 : Long Snake Moan – A Tale Of Wrath

[Author’s Note : If you can’t handle sex, violence, and insanity, stop reading now, and move on.]

Jennifer stood in her shower, scrubbing herself with soap, making lots of lather. As she let the water wash away the foam, she moaned, “Oh, yeah.” She felt so alive. Every inch of her skin was alive. Every inch felt the water, the foam, the air. She moaned again.

It was three A.M. She was washing off the salt, sand, and him. She peaked outside the shower, to verify her special hairpin was still there, and clean. To be safe, she pulled it into the shower, and let the water run over it again, before placing it on the counter once more.

She felt the water flowing over her, closed her eyes, let her fingers run wild, and moaned, as she remembered her last date with him.

“I want to go to the beach! Now!”

“But, it’s after midnight. It’s closed.”

She kissed him, and ground her hips into him, “Scared?” She pulled one of his hands down and pressed it against her ass. “Think we’ll get caught?” Her hand rubbed his crotch.

To the beach they went. It was nearly 1:00 A.M. They walked along the sand, by the edge of the water. She pulled off her shoes, and walked barefoot, letting the water flow over her feet, between her toes, feeling the sand.

No one was around. She giggled, as she took off her shirt, and tossed it on the sand. Her bra followed, and she made sure he got a good view of her breasts. Her shorts and thong came off, and she added them to the pile. “Time for a swim.”, she splashed through the surf, and headed further out.

She smiled when he followed her, and touched the hairpin hidden in her hair. It wouldn’t be long before she needed it.

When the water was deep enough, she stopped, and kissed him. Her hand found its way between his legs, and her fingers made sure he knew what she wanted. She pushed him on his back, floating on the waves, and moved her head between his legs, for a little while. She knew it wouldn’t be long before she needed her hairpin. Not long at all.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, and mounted him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her up, keeping himself inside her. She raised her arms over her head, and he couldn’t resist sucking on her breasts.

She moaned, then moaned again, as her hand found her hairpin.

He finished, erupting inside her. “Oh, God,” he groaned, as she pulled the hairpin and sank it’s carefully sharpened tip into his throat, then pulled it free, and sank it in his chest. He tried to fight back, but it was too late.

She pushed his head beneath the wave, her hands wrapped around his throat. She watched the bubbles in the water as he fought to breath. She held him there until the bubbles were gone, and he no longer moved.

She moaned as she finished.

She remembered every detail, as she stood in her shower, letting the water and foam wash away every trace of him. She felt the water flow between her legs, and moaned once more.

Wrath stood next to her, hidden in her shadow, as he whispered in her ear, “Another man who hurts innocent women is now gone. God blesses you, dear child, for all your hard work.” Jennifer smiled, and knew, the next day, she’d continue her work. She’d start another hunt. For a predator to remove from the world. To make the world a safer place from men.

She smiled, and as the water flowed, and her fingers moved between her legs, she moaned.

611 words
@LurchMunster


This is my entry for Year 2, Week 20 (Week 2.20) of Jeff Tsuruoka‘s Mid-Week Blues-Buster flash fiction challenge. Please, go read the other stories in the challenge.

Van Hook Glade, Saturday, 13 September 2014

I’m sitting in the Scion xB (A 2006 model, so it’s 8 years old) parked at the Western Carolina Farmers Market in Asheville, North Carolina. She’s out there, somewhere, in the chaos. Cars and trucks all over the place, going in all kinds of directions, people milling about.

Did I mention pure chaos and I don’t mix well? I tend to hide in the car when I can. It’s like how I love the beach, but the only beaches I can actually go to at home are the ones at Back Bay NWR, and False Cape State Park. The rest? HUMANS! AIEEE!

Humans are, and I know it, social beings. Even I have some social requirements. I may not really know what they are, but dealing with the chaos of the Farmers Market on a Saturday afternoon is not one of them. If it was, say, Tuesday morning, during a work week, when everyone was at work, and school was in session, and there were much fewer people here, I’d do better.

I’m looking forward to the 7 hour drive home. The math says we’ll get there, and all will be fine. That doesn’t mean I’m not looking forward to getting there.

I wonder how much stuff she’ll come back with? I wonder if she’ll find stuff to buy, and then drive the car around to the different places, park at them, and put a case of stuff in the car. How many eggplant does a married couple with kids all grown and out of the house need? An entire case? One of the shipping boxes they ship eggplant to the stores in?

And in 12 minutes, the Chromebook will turn itself off. And I’ll be sitting in the car. With nothing to do. Maybe I’ll bend the rules, turn on the motor, and plug-in the charger, so I can let my fingers and mind wander, and distract myself from the chaos I’m staring into. Maybe I’ll lean back and take a nap.

I don’t hate the place. Really. I don’t. It’s just too much for me to handle. I get overloaded, and end up like a little boy, holding on to mommy’s hand, going, “Don’t leave me alone in this! AIEEE!” I won’t say that, but she knows. It’s a case of I don’t know anyone around me, so I don’t know how they will react to anything. Sort of like a normal person walking into a new job for the first time. Except with me, it happens endlessly, every day, over, and over, and over, forever.

Honestly, if I could, I’d find a cave and move into it, and never come out and deal with the world. Of course, that wouldn’t work, so I keep hanging in there, trying. Look, There’s a blue Nissan Altiima to my right. A gray Toyota Forerunner to my left. Give it a minute, and things will change. A red Jeep Grand Cherokee’s next to the Nissan. It’s loading up. The mom’s cute. She’d make a daughter someone would be proud of. The dad is, well, a guy. Looks like a typical lazy bum. The daughter’s cute as a button. Aren’t they all?

AIEEE! There’s a line of vehicles coming in! AIEEE!

Please let her finish soon, so we can go home.

Van Hook Glade, Friday, 12 September 2014

It’s Friday morning, Somewhere before 0700. It’s wet outside. We had a couple of water leaks in the tent, but not many, and not bad. We’re mostly dry in here. And that’s a good thing. I’m listening to the rain as it hits the rain-fly, and to the wind as it blows through the trees, wondering, “why am I awake?”

I suspect I’ll take a nap shortly. Fig Newtons (actually, WalMart’s copy of them) are addictive. Sunrise is somewhere around 0730 ish. We woke up about 0530 hours, Pit stops. Always fun to get dressed in the tent, in the dark, get socks and shoes on, find the flashlight, and walk uphill to the camp bathhouse. Makes you appreciate home.

Pop-tarts and bananas for breakfast. Washed down by Cranberry Ginger Ale. And my daily 40 mg of Prozac. Wish I had a way to dim the display on the Chromebook. I could get double the battery life. But, it has no brightness settings or controls. I’ve looked a bunch of times. They don’t exist.

And, we’ll see how the day goes, and how much time we spend in the tent, reading, and napping.

And, it’s now 1817 hours. We just got back to the tent. Didn’t rain as much today as it was supposed to. We raided Dry Falls, Glen Falls, and Bridal Veil Falls again. We also stopped by the Highlands Botanical Gardens, although we didn’t stay there long, because the rain started. We found two grocery stores, The Mountain Fresh Grocery, and Bryson’s Grocery.

Mountain Fresh is not like any grocery store I’ve ever seen. It’s not that big, really. A typical Food Lion dwarfs it. But, it’s not really a grocery either. Yes, it has groceries. About as much as a 7-11. And it’s all high-end. It also had a wood fired brick oven pizza, fresh seafood, a butcher, a pile of olive oils and vinegars, which you can sample, and buy by the bottle, a full up food service (order your burgers, or ding near anything else), and a wine and cheese bar.

She tried the 4 flavor 20 ounce beer sampler. Got to pick the 4 flavors she wanted. I had a big cup of soda from the soda fountain. I don’t remember the beer flavors. But I had Boylan’s Black Cherry soda. Yum.

We picked up $5 of gas, ‘cause, in Highlands, gas is like $3.60 a gallon. Yeah. Yeah. I know. Everyone in Europe just said, “Gods, that’s cheap!” But if we go 38 miles East of here to Brevard, its’ $3.42 a gallon. And back in Virginia Beach, it’s $3.19 a gallon. So, we just got enough to get to Brevard.

Bryson’s grocery is a normal grocery. ‘Cept that half the back wall of the store is beer. Yeah. Half. I told her, “Well. What else you gonna do when you’re snowed in to the house in winter?” And yeah, there are houses out here that have wood burning stoves inside, huge freezers (usually a couple of them), and gigantic pantries. Because there are times when you can’t go anywhere for a couple of weeks in the winter up here. You live on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere? They ain’t sending a snowplow out. Hell, a snowplow couldn’t get down a lot of the roads out here.

Dry Falls is always fun. The trail goes right behind it. Yep. You get to look at the back side of a waterfall. If you’re averse to getting a bit damp, don’t walk behind it. But, if walking through the mist is not a problem for you, you’ll love it. It’s easy to take pictures from both sides of the fall, and fun to see a waterfall from lots of different angles.

Glen falls was fun. We were both exhausted. Especially her. Glen Falls had 3 waterfalls. The first 2 are good. The third one is nothing special. You can usually skip that one. If you go to the 3rd one, the trail from the parking lot is about a mile, and drops 700 feet. One thing to note. Glen Falls is a dangerous place. Lots of wet, slippery rocks, and very large cliffs. Stay on the trails, and don’t take the chance on getting hurt.

We went to the middle fall. When we started back, I sang the song I kept hearing in my head. Sung to the tune of Sherry Lewis and Lamb Chop’s Song That Never Ends.

This is the up that never ends.
Yes it goes up and up my friends.
Some people started climbing it
Not knowing what it was.
Now they’ll be climbing it forever just because….

And repeat. Forever.

The woman that caught up to us, and passed us on the trail while I was singing that nearly choked, she laughed so hard.

Pat wanted specific pictures at Bridal Veil Falls. With me under the falls. So, she took three. One is showing the full size of the falls, with a little me standing there. The other shows me waving, and the third has me sticking my hand under the very edge of the fall, just enough to get some water on it. No, I did not step under the fall. That would be suicidal. I stood at the edge of the road, and reached as far as I could.

Yeah. I’ll have to post those three pictures, I suppose.

Dinner tonight was calzones from Brick Oven Pizza. We were hungry. It was good, not great, but good. And for Highlands, it was dirt cheap.

And here we are, once more, at Van Hook Glade. Hiding in the tent. She’s reading her Kindle, I’m writing this on my Chromebook. Got over half the battery charge left. Turning off the WiFi does help extend the battery life. But only so much. 90% of the power use of this thing now is the display. Which I can’t dim.

Ah. Another night of sleeping to the sound of rain striking the rain fly on the tent. Take that, cabin camping. Take that hotel life. You can’t get this kind of experience any other way. Yeah, I know. It’s not for everyone. But, if you can deal with having to get up in the middle of the night, get dressed, and walk uphill to the bath house, to make a middle of the night pit stop, you might be able to do this.

And $30 a night beats the cost of any hotel. Gets even cheaper when you cook your own food at the campsite. Just heard an owl. And tonight, as the sun sets, the frogs, and crickets, and all the rest will come out, and we’ll be serenaded to sleep.

Tomorrow, we break camp, and head home. We’re planning to stop in Asheville, at the Farmer’s Market, and then for lunch at Apollo’s Flame (It’s a Greek place). Then, we drive all the way home. Saturday night, we sleep at home. And Sunday morning, we see if we can move at all.

Nighty-night, everyone.

Mark.

#FinishThatThought Week 2-11 : A Tale Of Wrath

Little did we realize that the peace and quiet of our country afternoon picnic was soon to be rudely shattered. We’d spread a tablecloth on the ground, set our basket down, and made ourselves comfortable. Elizabeth took out our drinks, a Sprite for me, a Diet Lime Coke for her.

“It’s beautiful here,” she smiled.

The lakeside field was a popular picnic ground. Thomas and his wife were next to the old oak. Sally and her two daughters were beside the lake, feeding the ducks. Young Bobby and his girl friend, Mary, were off to the side, excitedly learning how to kiss.

Everything was good. Until that moment, when a strange man walked into the field. I’d never seen him. He wore a trench coat, which struck me as strange. He didn’t speak to anyone. Looked like he had earphones in his ears, and was listening to music. He was talking to himself, but too far away for me to hear him.

The strange man stopped in the middle of the field. He looked around like he was making sure he knew where we all were. He pulled out a silver cross, kissed it, and opened his trench coat.

I saw guns. I saw him pulling them out. I saw him point the guns at people. I saw him shoot. Sally fell face first into the lake. The ducks scattered, flapping their wings. I knew they were noisey, but somehow, my ears weren’t working. Instead, I studied the details of their flapping wings as they moved in slow motion.

Sally’s two daughters fell, in slow motion, joining their mother in the water at the edge of the lake.

Bobby stood up, Mary’s mouth opened in a scream I couldn’t hear, and Bobby’s chest started changing color, as he collapsed to his knees, and fell backwards. Mary’s face changed, and she fell, the back of her head an ugly mess.

Thomas threw himself at his wife, knocking her to the ground. The strange man stepped toward them as the gun he held made several sharp, sudden motions. Thomas and his wife stopped moving.

Elizabeth had found her feet, and started running toward the trees, as something struck her back, causing her to move with a jerk, and she pitched face forward into the grass.

I never heard a thing, as I wondered why I was standing next to myself, looking at my blood leak from my body, discolor the ground.

The man stopped shooting. He put his guns back, knelt, bowed his head, and prayed, of all things, to God, then kissed his silver cross once more, and walked away, as if he’d done nothing.

That’s when I saw the demon in the man’s shadow. I watched the demon whisper in the man’s ear. “You’ve done well, child of God. Now, you must carry on the work I’ve given you. Cleanse the evil from the world.”

The man whispered, “In God’s name.”

Then everything was gone.

495 Words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Week 2-11 (Year 2, week 11) of Alissa Leonard‘s Finish That Thought. Please, go read all the creatively shared stories in this week’s challenge.

Van Hook Glade, Thursday, 11 September 2014

Today was fun. She let me sleep in until after 0700 hours. We had Souvlaki with sautéed vegetables for breakfast. We fixed it burrito style. We were supposed to have it for dinner last night, but we didn’t get here until after dark, so, she changed the plan. She had coffee for breakfast. I had White Hot Chocolate.

Did I mention I love camping with her. Because I get to spend oceans of time with her. 🙂

We started at Gorges State Park (North Carolina, remember), where we took the 3+ mile out and back trail to Rainbow Falls. We both took oceans of pictures. She told me it’s 125 feet tall. “Think of it as a 12 story building.”

We took lots of pictures of wildflowers tool. They had plenty of them. Lots of different kinds. Don’t ask me what kind. I’ll answer, “purple. white, yellow, orange, blue, pink”, and if there was more than one kind of purple, “2 kinds of purple”. I don’t know what kind. We got shots of bees (all kinds of bees, as in more than one kind, and more than one size). And shots of a couple of butterflies. The butterflies may not have turned out so good.

After that hike, we raided Ingles in Cashiers, NC, where we bought bananas, peanut butter, a 2 liter Diet Cherry 7-Up, a 2 liter Cranberry Canada Dry Ginger Ale, a bottle of vegetable juice (like V-8, but the Ingles brand). I’ve had a good ⅔ of the Ginger Ale. Hey, after all the walking, I was thirsty!

Then we went to Silver Run Falls, and took another ocean of pictures. They call it Silver Run, ‘cause there are oceans of silver-colored flakes of Mica all over the rocks, the ground, and anything else it can stick to. It’s a very popular swimming hole. But, everyone was at work, or at school, so we had it to ourselves most of the time we were there.

Lastly was the crazy person trip to Chattooga Pot Holes. Somewhere in the Pisgah National Forest. Or maybe it’s the Nantahala. I can’t really remember. You take a nice road out of Cashiers, turn right on a paved two lane road that’s a bit skinny in places, and has lots of hills. Then the pavement runs out, and it’s a dirt and gravel road. After a bit, you turn left on a road into the National Forest, which is also a dirt and gravel road. Eventually, you reach a bridge.

I’m betting the bridge would terrify some of you. But, it’s rated for 31 tons. So, it’s perfectly safe. The Forest Service takes good care of things.

You park on the far side of the bridge, and take pictures of the potholes from the bridge, and from the side of the river.

The potholes are interesting. Some of them could swallow a small car. They’re round, like circle round. Carved by water into the granite and sandstone rocks. Water swirls around in the potholes.

Then, it was back to camp for chilli-cheese dogs, nice, hot showers, and crashing in the tent.

And so, Day 2 of the excursion comes to an end. We’ll see what day 3 brings. The weather says, “rain, and lots of it”.

Now, it’s getting dark. And she’ll tell you, “When I take you out into the woods, when it gets dark, you climb into bed, and sleep.” Yes, I do. Yes, I do.