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!
“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.”
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?”
(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.)
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.
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?
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?)
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?