#VisDare 41 : Transfixed

We returned to Old Phoenix, as the sun was setting. “Follow us!” the cats mewed. They led us to an old warehouse someone had converted into a theater. There were several tables along the East wall. The cats led us to one. “Sit! Sit!”

Alice whispered, “This is Josie’s place.”

A man in a tuxedo, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses approached the table. He poured a drink for each of us. A woman sat down at a piano in the north-west corner of the warehouse, and started to play.

“Josie!” Alice grabbed my hand, as a woman in a wedding dress, and ballerina shoes pirouetted across the floor. She stopped before us. Alice sat, transfixed, staring at the woman, unable to speak.

The woman took my hands, and placed them on Alice’s. “Help her.” As she danced, I wondered how I could help Alice.

150 Words

This is part 26 in the continuing story I’m working on for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare. Please read the other entries in this week’s Visual Dare challenge.

If you wish to read the entire tale, you can find it, starting with Part 26, running back to Part 1, here.

#FlashFriday #29 : Mona Lisa

"La Gioconda," by Leonardo da Vinci“Is that the Mona Lisa?”

I took a sip of my wine, savoring the flavor on my tongue. “Of course not. Like I could afford the Mona List.”

“But it looks so real.”

“It’s just a copy. Like the Picasso, the Van Gogh, and the Manet.”

“Oh.” She looked disappointed. “Yeah. A copy.”

She was like all the other women I’d brought home. She’d spend the night, and then be gone. Because I was a pretender. I collected copies of artwork, and displayed them in my cheap apartment. I wasn’t the rich man she wanted.

But the night would be fun. And in a few weeks, I’d bring home that painting from Degas I’d had my eyes on. Like the rest, it wouldn’t be a copy, but the real thing, though I could never admit it. I savored more of my wine. The advantages of being a museum caretaker were better than anyone thought.

“Technology lets them make really good copies these days, doesn’t it.”

165 Words

I wrote this for Rebekah Postupak‘s #FlashFriday, Week 29. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #Flash Friday. They are good reading.

#ThursThreads Week #74 – Not Even A Little One?

Mars sat at the bar, Bacchus noted his mug was empty, and refilled it for the Mars day before the king and queen did not go well sixth time. Mars picked up his mug, and drained it. Bacchus sighed and shook his head, “Not even a little one?”

Mars frowned, looking at his empty mug, trying not to cry, “No. Not even a little one.”

Pluto approached Bacchus, “I need a drink.” He looked at Mars, “He’s getting me depressed.”

Bacchus put a mug before Pluto, and filled it with blood-red wine. “Ah, Pluto. You must forgive him. He’s had a bad day.”

Pluto looked at the calendar behind the bar. “Oh. This was his day before the court wasn’t it?”

Bacchus nodded. “He made his request of Jupiter and Juno this morning. It did not go well.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Mars asked for a war. Any war. Even a little one. Between two tribes in South America. Tribes known to hate each other.”

Pluto sighed. “Juno didn’t approve, did she.”

“No.” Bacchus looked at Mars, great sorrow in his eyes. “She didn’t even approve of his little war.”

Pluto put a brotherly arm around Mars shoulders, “Another drink for my friend, barkeep! On me!”

Pluto wished that bitch Juno would die, or find a deity to run away with. Since she’d married Jupiter, the old man had just become pussy whipped, and being a deity on Earth had become no fun at all.

246 Words

I wrote this for Siobhan Muir‘s #ThursThreads, Week 74. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are good reading.