Fast Fiction for #WAG32 - Altered State

The challenge for this week's WAG (Writing Adventure Group) is to either create a character or observe someone who is partaking of a mind-altering substance. The piece can be as long or short as you want, using any form you like. No Rules! Now Write!

Drunk and Pissed Off

Edward stumbled in as I opened the door and landed on his knees. “God looks like it’s been a hard night.” I said as I helped him to his feet.

“Sorry Derek, just need to talk.”

“That’s okay mate, I’ll get the coffee on.”

I guided him to the sofa and went into the kitchen area that took up a corner of my living space. “What you been up to?”

“Bloody women,” he muttered. “Why do they do it?”

“What?”

Edward put his head in his hands. “Screw her, screw her boss.”

I left the coffee machine to do it’s stuff and sat down opposite him. There was only enough space for a two-seater sofa and easy chair, the rest was taken up with a 42 inch tele and my work table. That dominated the room but, after all, this was my office and my home.

“You can sleep in the bath if you want.”

“Thanks,” he said as the coffee machine gurgled to say “I’m ready”. I grabbed two mugs.

“Sugar?”

“Thanks.”

I put the mug on the table in front of him. “What happened?”

He grabbed the mug precariously and I reached forward just in case it went flying. Not that I could have done anything. He took a sip, leaned forward and peered at me over the top of the steaming coffee. “She screwed her boss.”

-o0o-

Fast Fiction for #WAG29 - Coffee & Scissors

This week's WAG (Writing Adventure Group) is about habits: ours, a characters, or someone I've observed (we're all such stalkers). It can be anything from the unconscious way someone touches their face when they talk, or a deep-in-their-bones addiction. Your piece can be as long or short as you want, using any form you like. No Rules! Now Write!

As a challenge I thought that I'd write in the second person point of view. Not sure if it works, what do you think?

Coffee and Scissors

You'd already got your coffee when Pauline plonked her bag on her usual table and joined the back of the queue. You watched as she fidgeted while she waiting to order her particular brew - a three-shot cappuccino with soya. You took a sip of your own and saw the barista pass her a stack of magazines from the back room.

It was exactly the same last week. She took them to her table and went back to collect her coffee and almond croissant. Glancing at your watch you wrote the time in your notebook and checked what you'd written last Tuesday. The same to a tee; day, time, table, coffee, croissant, magazines and scissors. "Strange," you thought. "But that's what eccentric mystery authors must be like."

You took a deep breath because you needed to go for it before she got stuck in with the scissors. Getting up, you nonchalantly wandered off towards the toilet. But as you passed her table you did a double-take and said, "Pauline Prentice, isn't it?" She looked up and smiled. That's when you knew deep inside that the interview would work out.

Flash Fiction – Hidden Assets

I wrote the this piece of flash fiction for WAG#19 (the Writing Adventure Group). The challenge was to pick someone out of a crowd and describe what (you imagine) is in their pockets (Unless you want to be brave and ask them!) Give us both meaning and physical details, and don’t forget to let yourself be surprised.

Hidden Assets

Sharon slowly ran her hands down her thighs to smooth the tight dress and automatically wiggled her body in response. She took a step back and checked herself in the mirror, she smiled when she saw how the silk clung to her hips and over the cheeks of her bottom. Perfect. Everyone would see that she wore nothing underneath. The DI had been right, they wouldn't bother to frisk her looking like this.

She'd got up late this morning as it was going to be a long night. She'd hardly eaten and had spent most of the time psyching herself up for the assignment. She glanced at the diamante watch on her right wrist and took a slow deep breath to calm herself. It was only ten minutes before the car arrived so she went to the bathroom for the final time.

Harry watched her through the half-opened door as she reached down the top of her dress with her left hand. He saw the look of relief on her face when she found it was still perched safely beneath her right breast. She pulled at the single shoulder strap and checked the mirror again before she said, “Hope this is working guys. You getting me okay?”

Flash Fiction for #WAG18 - A Familiar Friend

I've restarted with The Writers' Adventure Group after a long break. This week's challenge is... Look around your workspace, favourite chair, back yard, etc, and notice the objects around you. Choose one that is so familiar that you no longer notice it, even though it’s right next to you. Describe it as though you’re seeing it for the first time and particularly any feelings you have about it, past or present. Would you miss it if it was gone? No rules! Just write!

I never did believe in sticking exactly to rules so this is my entry.

A Familiar Friend

Jamie stared at the bottle with sad eyes. It was almost empty and sat on their dining table in front of him. Although it was burgundy-shaped the contents had travelled much further. The orange label had one or two dribbles of red wine where he'd been careless with the drips. One of them had lengthened the 'L' in Malbec and dissected the label in half. It was organically-grown Fairtrade from the Co-op round the corner.

Slowly he reached out and picked it up. Tilting his head he squinted at the small print at the foot of the label. Produced in Argentina, bottled in Manchester. Thirteen and a half percent NBV from the cellars of La Riojana. He poured the last few drops into his empty glass and plucked her picture from the table. As he held it up his eyes drooped, his face dropped and he sat for a few seconds far away in his thoughts. He let the photo slide though his fingers and reached for his glass. He sank the last few dregs before he slumped forward onto the table in tears.

Wonderful Memories – WAG 12

I had plenty of time for this week’s Adventure as I spent an hour and a half on the train to London. Loads of time to scribble. The Adventure, an idea from Lulu, was to describe something from memory and include as much detail as possible including impressions. My own personal challenge was to write it in the first person (a new one for me) and from a female point of view (which I had done before, but never in this context). I’ll leave you to decide which parts are memories and which are pure fantasy. I suppose I should warn you that it contains erotic images.

Wonderful Memories

My thinking spot was calm and restful. All I could hear was the brook bubbling and a pair of buzzards screeching as they flirted high in the sky. The rough bark of the giant chestnut tree pressed into my back and the cool damp earth penetrated my blanket. I closed my eyes and thought of Robert. My mind wandered and drifted back to our first night together almost a year ago.

He’d sent me a text when he got the hotel and said that he’d book in and wait in his car. I felt just like a teenager again as I drove slowly up the gravel drive to a small country hotel that looked like it had been build by a wealthy Victorian industrialist. I saw Robert sat in his car and the butterflies in my stomach added to the tension so I took two attempts to park. At last I switched off the engine and he came over. He looked so elegant, handsome and sexy.

Fumbling to get my handbag off the passenger’s seat I almost dropped it, but luckily I didn‘t. I got out and managed to straightened my dress before he reached me. I’d chosen a little strappy summer one the colour of ripe peaches with heels to match. He said ‘you look lovely’ and kissed me on the lips before he took my hand. I’m sure I must have smiled even though my stomach was churning. He took my bag and we nervously walked hand in hand through the front door and, with a nod to the girl behind the desk, upstairs.

The room was a giant bay window in the shape of a semi-circle. Against the straight wall was a king sized bed positioned so you could look out over the formal rose garden and manicured lawns. I thought it was perfect place for our first tryst.

‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ He said as he put my bag down in the corner, ‘would you like to freshen up before we have a drink?’

‘Yes if you don’t mind’, I replied as I moved closer to him. I could almost feel the warmth of his body and sensed his nervousness. It was like we were fifteen again. He put his arms around me and we kissed slowly and softly. He smelt lovely and I felt him gently nibble my bottom lip which conjured up scrumptious thoughts and made me feel squidgy. Unfortunately he broke off, took a deep breath and said ‘why don’t you go and wash so we can then have a drink in the garden.’

I walked slowly to the bathroom and looked around seductively as I opened the door. I kept him waiting for a few minutes before I came out with fresh lipstick and a sly smile. We walked downstairs onto the terrace and he picked a table for two overlooking the rose garden and the fields towards the church in the distance. The waiter came over with the menus and Robert asked what I’d like to drink. I suggested dry white wine as I didn’t want to fall asleep quite yet. He ordered a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

Drinks and dinner were leisurely and, even though I could see that Robert was eager, I took my time to savour the food and even ordered coffee to build the anticipation. So it was about 10 o’clock when we eventually walked upstairs hand in hand. He was obviously nervous as he fumbled with the key a few times before he managed to unlock the door.

Although it was still light outside and the curtains were open, he’d left on one of the bedside lamps. My heart was in my mouth as he moved slowly and purposefully towards me, leant down and kissed me on the mouth. His lips were soft, moist and tasted sweet in spite of the coffee. I felt his hands wander down my back and over my bottom. I pulled myself into him and he responded by sliding his hands up my sides until they were almost on my breasts. I knew that he could feel the curve of my left breast and I felt his hand move slowly until the palm pressed on my nipple. I knew he would feel it getting erect and that excited me.

He gently slipped the straps of my dress over my shoulders and I wiggled my hips so it slid down to the floor. I stepped backwards out of it and started to unbutton his shirt. ‘My turn now,’ I thought as I put my palms on his chest and pushed it off his shoulders. Then I pulled him close so I could feel his bare chest against my body. ‘I love skin,’ I whispered in a deep sexy voice.

‘Yes, so do I,’ he murmured.

I wanted him to undo my bra, but he didn’t. So I pulled his shirt out of his trousers and let it fall to the floor. Backing towards the bed I sat down, kicked off my heels and lay back with my hands behind my head to watch him take off his shoes, socks and chinos. He looked fit and I was glad that I’d bought some special underwear. I knew that I’d made the right choice when I saw the pleasure on his face as he feasted his eyes on my lacy balcony-bra and tiny panties. Peachy and almost see through with tiny light brown flowers embroidered in the silk. I closed my eyes as he knelt down beside me, smelt his aftershave and imagined him admiring my smooth body.

It seemed ages before I felt his breath on my tummy which was quickly followed by a kiss just before he ran his fingertips over the top of my leg. My stomach stirred with anticipation as he moved his kisses further up my body almost casually brushing each of my breasts through my bra. I heard myself moan and could feel my nipples pressing hard against the fabric. The sensation sent a tingle down my body and I desperately wanted him to take it off and suck them hard. Instead he kissed my neck and eased his finger under the top of my bra to rub it against my nipple. He lay down beside me and flicked his tongue into my ear which made me shiver. I turned towards him and smiled as he tweaked the clash of my bra between his thumb and fore finger. Oh what relief to feel my breasts set free at last.

I sensed rather than felt his lips brush lightly over my left nipple, but I felt myself quiver when the tip of his tongue circled the one on my right breast. Now I wanted him and I pulled his head down so he would suck them hard. The sensation was delicious. I felt his fingers moving between my legs and I knew that my wetness was seeping through my panties. The knot in my stomach tightened when he pulled them to one side. I reached down and grasped him, he felt good.

At that moment the urgency overwhelmed us both and with a flurry of limbs we were lying naked side by side. I turned him onto his back and sat astride his stomach with a wicked laugh. He responded by reaching up and rolling both my nipples between a finger and thumb. I leant back and he pulled hard. There was no pain, just exquisite pleasure.

I saw him watch as I bent down towards him and sensed his skin tingle as I swept my breasts over his tummy. I could now feel him hard between my cleavage and I knew that my hair brushed against his chest when I teased and kissed him. Suddenly he rolled me onto my back and, with a sense of urgency, I reached down to guide him. It wasn’t long before I was panting as I rode the wave and I felt myself squeeze him tighter and tighter as I got louder and louder until my legs shook and shook.

We lay there in each other’s arms with the breeze from the open window cooling the sweat off our bodies. As I started to doze I knew that I’d always cherish the pressure of his chest against my breasts and the comfort of our legs intertwined. I kissed him gently before I drifted into a blissful sleep.

I subconsciously felt Robert stir and vaguely heard the doves cooing outside the window. I thought that he reached out to check that I was still here before he kissed me gently on the cheek. I felt his hands wander over my back and I started to come alive. My skin tingled as he ran his fingers down my backbone and between my legs. I felt myself drift into another world as he started to work his magic on me. Almost automatically I pressed my hips towards him so I could feel him hard against my stomach.

Much later we sat in bed drinking tea and chatting about nothing in particular.

A blackbird suddenly rustled in the bushes and dragged me back to my thinking spot. I smiled wistfully as I remember the wonderful moments we’d had together, now just memories. We were married, it was just a shame it was not to each other.

In a Jam – WAG 11 (Writing Adventure Group)

I was awash in a sea of stop lights. Grid lock is never fun and after ten minutes I was already fed up. I glanced to the guy in the car to my left and watched him frantically rub his nose. It must be an itch. What is it they say? A row or a surprise.

I looked to the front and stared at the line of stationary traffic. ‘God we’re going to be here ages,’ I muttered. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him prod the end of his nose with his right forefinger. Well it can’t be an itch, it must be something else. I was intrigued and turned my head slightly so I could watch him without appearing to stare. But he didn’t care, he was totally immersed in his nose. I turned so I could see him properly.

He leaned forward and adjusted his driving mirror. Then, tilting his head so he could see better, he pushed the tip of his nose upwards with his finger. Was it a spot or a growth? Or maybe it was something even more sinister like cancer. His face was now about an inch from the mirror and he wiggled the tip of his nose with his finger and peered into his nostrils. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.

Suddenly he sprung out of his seat and let out a silent scream. I saw a red spider slide out of his left nostril and fall onto his lap.

-o0o-

I wrote this after I watched a man playing with his nose in a traffic jam. He did everything I described, only the last two sentences above are actually fiction. OK, so maybe I didn’t follow the instructions completely.

Instructions for WAG #11: Scaredy-Cat

Another people-watching exercise! Choose a stranger and observe him/her for a little while. Now give them a phobia. A full-on, jump on the chair, scream like a little girl, unreasonable fear. (Or however you imagine them to respond.) Try to choose something that fits the person you’re watching, and let us know what it is about them that clued you in to their secret fear. The object is not just to describe the fear, but to make us understand why it fits with this particular person.

A Polished Professional – WAG 10 Entry

I read the instructions for this Writing Adventure Group challenge when I picked up my email at a coffee shop on the motorway. I was driving back from visiting my parents by the seaside and my brain raced with ideas when I got back in the car. By the time I reached the next service station I had to stop and scribble down this piece. I have placed the instructions at the end of the post.

A Polished Professional

Darren loved to polish the glasses. It was so satisfying to see them shine in the light. That was the main reason that he worked in the bar although, of course, there was always Cheryl. Sparkling Cheryl in her white starched blouse with the top button almost popping under the strain and her black pencil skirt with the slit up her left thigh. It was enough to put any red-blooded male off his work.

He glanced towards her by the table in the corner as he carefully took a large wine glass from the dishwasher and checked it for chips against the light. Then with a flick of his wrist he tossed the corner of the cloth into the glass and twisted it in his right hand to polish it inside and out like a true professional. Finally holding it by the stem in his left hand he raised it to his eyes and turned it slowly to check for smears. At that moment his spied Cheryl wiggling back to the bar with her swinging hips and bouncing breasts.

His mouth dropped and his heart raced. If only he had the courage to ask her.




Instructions for WAG #10: The Professional

As we go through our days, we’re surrounded by people doing everyday jobs: the guy that reads the gas meter, cashiers, bank tellers, security guards, doctors, circus clowns… This week, your assignment is to observe someone doing a job (their profession should be one you don’t know that much about). Describe him/her and also what they’re doing, why they’re doing it (as best you can tell), and how. Feel free to use your imagination, but don’t forget the concrete observation! Special thanks to Lulu for this week’s topic idea!

Entry for Writing Adventure Group - WAG 9

This is my second submission for the Writing Adventure Group and at first I thought it would be a real challenge. But I jotted down a few ‘what ifs’ and came up with this scenario. I spent about five minutes scribbling it down in pencil (which is how I write) and another ten or so typing and editing. I have put the instructions for the theme at the end of the post.

Forbidden Fruit

The sun bounced off its shiny reddish green skin and caught Emma’s eye as she drew back the bedroom curtains. She stared and squinted until she could just make out its vivid hues and the two dark green leaves jutting from its crown.

It was at that moment that she knew she just had to have it.

She struggled to get the ladder out of the garage. Why did Jim always insist on putting things up so high and out of reach. Eventually she managed to prop it up against the tree. Gingerly she reached up and stepped on the first rung. It twisted under her weight as the left leg sunk into the soft ground but she ignored it. Taking a deep breath she placed one foot over another and pulled herself cautiously up into the tree’s canopy.

She felt the morning sun on her back when she eventually reached the top and stretched up to grasp it in her right hand. It felt hard and cold, almost unappealing. As though it didn't want to be plucked. She slowly closed her fingers around its smooth skin and tugged. The branch bent and bounced back when the stalk suddenly snapped. She'd got it.

The prize in her hand she quickly clambered down and ran to the kitchen. It wobbled when she placed it on the kitchen work surface like one of those Russian dolls to finish upright on its tail. Then taking Jim’s eight inch kitchen knife she neatly split it from top to bottom so the two halves rolled in unison on the granite top to expose their hidden flesh. She felt a twinge of excitement just like Eve must have done in the Garden of Eden.

As she looked down at her prize she noticed that the right hand half had a small brown spot on its fleshy part. She bent down and then quickly jerked back in revulsion as a grub poked its head out of the otherwise unblemished apple.

Instructions for WAG #9 – Warning!

Last week the topic was to make something ugly sound beautiful, so this time let’s do the opposite! Choose an unfamiliar object (in other words, one you have no history with) that strikes you as beautiful, appealing, or somehow desirable etc… some ideas might be: a child, a sunset, an attractive shop window, a scenic view, a piece of art, an appetising meal in a restaurant… and write about it in such as way as to make it unappealing or even disgusting, frightening or repulsive to your reader. If you did last week’s topic as well (Rose Coloured Glasses) I’d be very interested to know which of these was harder for you!

Entry for WAG 8. Writing Adventure Group

This is my first submission for the Writing Adventure Group. I have put the instructions for the challenge at the end of the post.

Beautiful Brock

Edward was almost sick when he first saw it. The sight unnerved him and squashed the thought of breakfast after his daily walk through the woods. Brock was dead. How could anything so beautiful now look so disgusting? He must have been caught by a speeding car as he tried to cross the road. What a waste!

The next day it was even worse, but Edward was captivated. The crows had taken the eyes and magpies had torn at the innards. At least poor Brock had given a few feathered friends a hearty feast.

On the third day he was covered in flies and bluebottles. The noise and smell of death hung in the breeze as they crawled on the rotting flesh and buzzed in the air around him. He almost seemed alive again.

A week later poor Brock was empty. He’d fed a few birds, and been recycled into maggots and worms. They in turn had fed more badgers and would help the set survive the winter. Now what remained would put a smile on the faces of the children at the local school.

Edward picked up what was left of poor Brock – some bleached bones and a dried and wizen pelt in almost perfect condition. He popped him into the canvas bag that he’d brought especially from home. Later that day he would go into town and take it to the taxidermist who would resurrect him as he once was. Handsome Brock, a proud teenage badger.

Instructions for WAG #8 – Rose Coloured Glasses

Go out and choose an unfamiliar object (in other words, one you have no history with) that strikes you as ugly, repulsive, annoying, etc. Some ideas might be: a wad of squashed gum on the pavement, a dead squirrel on the side of the road, an ugly sign, a loud construction site, a tacky sculpture in a charity shop. Write about it in such as way as to make it appealing to your reader. Really sell it! Use whatever words you want and cheat as much as you want, but do your best!

Nixy's Writing Adventure Group. Looks like fun!!

Just signed up to Nixy Valentine's Writing Adventure Group. This week's task is called "Rose Colored Glasses" and I shall have a stab at it.

Have a look at Nixy's Blog for the rules.