Succinctly Yours – All things change

No one else believed Atlantis would rise.

The transition found him waiting, vindicated but alone, even at the end.

Would that change, now?

How low can you go? I’m at 136 characters, 4 fewer than the maximum 140 (you can also go for 140 words instead). It’s microfiction fun, where you write the short-but-sweet stories based on an image  prompt. There’s also a word prompt (this week, it’s transition), if you want more challenge. I used to do this at Stony River, but the  site’s down. Happily, I discovered a nice community of microfictioneers hosted at Grandma’s Goulash. Join the fun!

Lady in the red dress

Her sultry, sensual voice held his attention.

“I want it hot. Sizzling and intense. I want to feel the heat on my tongue, licking down my throat, consuming the rest of my body. You see, I’ve been playing it safe for too long. Now let me burn. Make me sweat, make me beg for relief, make me come back for more. I don’t care if you think I’m wanton for these gratuitous demands. I don’t know you and I don’t care. Just don’t you dare leave me cold.”

 

The waiter nodded. “Ma’am, I’ll be back with your Thai Pepper Steak.”

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(This is a response to the 100 words challenge in Velvet Verbosity. The word for the week was “gratuitous”. Everyone’s welcome to join!)

Frightened

It was too late. Stupid dare or not, she had to see this through.

But she stood frozen by the icy air, suffocated by the thick, putrescent stench filling the room. She recoiled, but the sense of horror wrapped itself maliciously around her, seeping into her pores, oozing into her hair, caressing her scalp. There was nothing to do, no help she could give or receive.

She could only watch.

Suddenly, the book was snatched out of her hands. Her friend’s laughing voice intruded into her imagination.

“Are you aware that you’re reading The Exorcist by peeking through your fingers?”

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(This is a response to the 100 words challenge in Velvet Verbosity. The word for the week was “frightened”. This one happens to be a true story. I usually get completely caught up in whatever book I’m reading, provided it’s well written enough, which is why I never read horror. A friend of mine, however, dared me to read William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist. Suffice it to say that I never watched the movie, or read anything like that again.)

 

Before and After

I used to know the exact moment you walked into a room. I would feel you there, and I’d turn, and a sense of peacefulness would grow inside me, immediately, without exception. I could be hurting or afraid; it didn’t matter. Your presence meant that no matter what was wrong, there was still something right.

Now it’s all too easy to pretend you’re not there. To see a photograph and look at everyone but you. The longer I could look away, the more it meant that the obsession was over.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

 

(This is a response to the 100 words challenge in Velvet Verbosity. The word for the week was “within”.)

Love on a street corner

Boarded up shops and busted streetlights. Graffiti, broken glass, and overflowing garbage bins. A sudden burst of unruly laughter from the teenagers huddled together down the rain-slick sidewalk.

The man stood still, heart pounding, out of place. Did he get the address wrong? No, the voice mail told him to wait on this corner tonight. So he waited, desperately praying for 16, 842 hours of torment to end.

Suddenly, there she was — pierced, tattooed, trembling. Wild and strange, yet achingly familiar. Uncertain. His heart broke for her. How could she be uncertain?

“Daddy,” she whispered. “Can I come home?”

(This is a response to the 100 words challenge in Velvet Verbosity. The word for the week was “wild”.)

Desert Debonair

These are two tweet-length stories for Microfiction Monday, hosted on Stony River. The challenge is to write a 140-character long (or shorter) tale based on the photograph or illustration provided every week. Here goes:

 

“What?” said Batman. “It’s the desert. Nobody wears body suits in the desert. Do you have any idea how hot that thing is? Ask Robin.”

*****

Hello, ladies. Look at your man, now back to me. What’s in my hand? A stick. Now look up. I’m in a poncho. (Who cares about riding a horse?)

(Here’s the context.)

*****

That’s it! Now head on over there and give it a try. 🙂

The day after the first “I love you”

Vanessa. Vanessa. Her name was pure pleasure on his tongue, impossible to say without an exultant smile. Smooth as the silk of her skin, sweet as the scent of jasmine in her hair, soft as the sensuous touch of her hand. His every prayer answered. Nessa.

He worried that he’d suddenly wake up and find that it wasn’t real. That she didn’t really smile at him with his kiss lingering on her lips, that the tenderness in her eyes was merely a trick of the light. His Vanessa. How was it even possible that those words together can be true?

(This is another response to the 100 words challenge in Velvet Verbosity. The word for the week was “pleasure”.)

 

 

Rescuer becomes rescued

The tears were dry. The violent, heartrending sobbing that had shaken her until it felt like she would shatter had stopped. Everything had stopped, except pain.

Night had slowly darkened the room, but she barely noticed. She lay on the bed, an exhausted ball of numbness and blank grief. She hadn’t moved for hours. She might never move again, she thought.

Suddenly, she felt a small nose touching her cheek. It was the stray kitten she found yesterday, snuggling close and purring in pleasure. Slowly, she lifted her hand to draw it closer, seeking its warmth.

She was still needed.

(This is a response to the 100 words challenge in Velvet Verbosity. The word for the week was “pleasure”.)

 

Through the forest

These are three 140-character stories for Microfiction Monday, hosted on Stony River. The challenge is to write a tweet-length (or shorter) tale based on the photograph or illustration provided every week. Week 56’s picture inspired three stories, and somehow, they all ended up involving fairy tales, perhaps because the image of a lone traveler and a path in the woods is such a familiar element in fantasy and myth that my mind recognized it immediately and refused to let go of the idea. It would be interesting to know what the photo will evoke in other microfiction writers. Anyway, here goes:

They warned the prince against wolves, but nobody cautioned him against the faerie-child’s spell.

The princess kept waiting; he never came.

*****

For stealing Cinderella’s slippers, Lea was doomed to wander for eternity, growing old and returning to youth, over and over and over again.

*****

Daddy read her stories of ladies trapped by witches in the forest. Maybe that’s where Mommy went. She might need help.

Lucy started walking.

*****

That’s it! Your turn. 🙂

 

 

The one left behind

She watched him preparing to leave, ruthlessly choking back the anguished doubt within her. He was busy, that’s all, she told herself, that’s why he never lingered. She knew he wanted to. She knew he loved her. She must know that. Didn’t she?

Tears flooded her throat. No. He mustn’t notice. Forcing the harsh despair from her voice, she murmured, I’ll miss you. He smiled distractedly, checking his watch, already on his way out. Don’t suffocate him, she lectured herself. But she wished, oh dear God, how she wished it was just a little harder for him to walk away.

(This is a response to the 100 words challenge in Velvet Verbosity. The word for the week was “harsh”.)