Moxie Monday: Dream Everyday
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
#RIPMayaAngelou
Fiction Friday: [In Defense of Kitten Mittens]
[This week's Fiction Friday is an exercise I've seen around the old internet. It involves writing a story using only dialogue. Nothing else. Just dialogue. Enjoy]
“I don’t get it. Why would you want to put socks on the cat?”
“Not socks…mittens.”
“Because that makes it better?”
“No…ahhh…you just don’t understand. You have to watch the episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Charlie makes a commercial for Kitten Mittens…”
“Okay…literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“No…it’s hilarious. Anyway, he puts them on the kitten and it tries to walk, but it’s like it forgot how to use its paws or something. It’s seriously one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.”
“So, what you’re really saying is that you want to make Mr. Binks look like an idiot.”
“No…you’re just not getting it.”
“Yeah, sorry. I don’t get why you want to torture my cat.”
“It’s not…ugh…look, we’ll just watch the episode and you’ll see.”
“I couldn’t be more excited.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“Anyway, I’m going to be late for work. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Oh, and you better leave my cat alone…I’m serious. Don’t traumatize my cat.”
“Alright, alright…geez.”
“Psst, psssssst...here Mr. Binks…come see what I have for you…”
[For those that have yet to behold the amazingness that is Kitten Mittens (or Mittons, as Charlie spells it), click the cat: 😺]
Moxie Monday: Choose Wisely
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [The Last First Date]
Mired in the most awkward silence of my life, I regret not concocting some sort of contingency plan. I wanted to. I really did, but my friend, Michelle, talked me out of it by telling me how ridiculous I was being. It’ll be interesting to see if we’re still friends by the end of the night.
After clearing his throat, in the phlegmiest, most disgusting way, my date starts to tell me a story about the time he got struck by lightning. How had he not led with that? In just a few sentences, the question’s answered. For the love of God…how does he make getting struck by lightning sound boring? I feel bad for a second, wondering if the jolt of electricity was what zapped his personality.
Tuning him out, I think about how I should have trusted my instincts and stuck to my ‘no blind dates’ rule. Then, I start to wonder how often LoveMatch gets sued for their misleading commercials. The ones that supposedly feature actual members of their site. This date is the polar opposite of the happy, beautiful people they feature. The ones that lean in toward one another while laughing at each other’s jokes. That stare at each other with googly eyes. Blech. There will most definitely not be a moment where I use any excuse to reach over and touch him.
The only thing getting me through is constantly reminding myself that, this isn’t just my first blind date, it’ll also be my last.
Ugh, I suppose I should try and pay attention…
“…so they said I was lucky to be alive and I told them to go get struck by lightning and then tell me how lucky they feel.”
No one’s more surprised than I am when I laugh. And, despite the fact that I know he hadn’t meant to be funny, he laughs, too. Then, after taking a considerable gulp of wine, he looks directly at me for the first time all night.
Wait, what’s happening?
Staring into his eyes, I have to admit that they’re beautiful. The nervousness they reflect is actually endearing. I catch a hint of a sparkle as his smile grows. Maybe the commercials were more accurate than I gave them credit for. Maybe it’s just been my bad attitude ruining the date.
Looks like Michelle and I can still be friends.
Then, he clears his throat again.
Nope, friendship’s over.
Moxie Monday: Shout!
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Victim | Killer]
I dig my nails deeper and rake them across the skin. These are my last moments. I have to make them count.
I’m placing a lot of faith in the procedural dramas I love to watch. Loved to watch? Whatever. They’ll do it. They’ll scrape under my nails and I know they’ll find you.
So I dig. And I claw. And I pack as much DNA into my nail beds as I can.
My lungs start to burn from neglect. My eyes bulge in their sockets and I struggle to blink. My heartbeat has grown so weak, I can’t even feel the thump of it in my chest.
I want to be proud of staying clearheaded enough to ensure that you’ll be caught. But, as coal colored circles make their way toward my pupils, it isn’t pride I feel. It’s complete and utter sadness for the life I won’t have the chance to live.
Damn, I think.
Then the darkness overtakes me.
She digs her nails even deeper into my arms. The burning is going to go away, but I doubt the scars ever will.
Choking wasn’t the best choice, but it wasn’t like I’d planned it out. This was a long time coming, so when the opportunity presented itself, I had to take it.
Ugh, she won’t stop digging. I wish she would die already.
Her perfect face is flushed in various shades of red. It’s pointless for her mouth to be open so wide. She can’t scream…or breathe. I swear I can see the light dimming in her eyes.
This is her fault. She ruined our relationship. She’d been my perfect little baby. I raised her alone and we’d been so close. Then, she became a woman, became my competition. Men used to look at me the way they look at her. I…I think she’s gone.
Damn, I think.
This doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would.
Moxie Monday: Shine Bright
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Disobedience]
[This week's Fiction Friday was my submission for Scene Stealers #22. Scene Stealers is a fun writing prompt from Write to Done where they provide the first two sentences and limit your word count to 350. Enjoy!]
It was pitch dark outside, and driving at night made me nervous, but I picked up the car keys anyway. I opened the door – and stepped into blinding sunshine.
After almost getting caught last time, Aunt Flora made me promise to never use my powers again. But, what choice did I have now that she was in danger? Especially when my using them was what put her there.
I shrugged at the neighbors pouring out of their homes as if I were just as confused as they were. Hands used as visors, they craned their necks upward as if they’d be able to see why the sun was in its noon time position at 9 o’clock at night.
With no time to dwell, I jumped into Flora’s car and turned the key. Resting my hands on the steering wheel, I closed my eyes. My thoughts zigzagged at the speed of light down a straightaway anchored with flashes of color whizzing by on either side.
As the vision slowed, the edges took shape. The dock. A warehouse. Flora was tied to a chair and gagged. Her eyes focused straight ahead, unblinking. She was trying to tell me something, but I was too far away to hear.
Throwing the car into reverse, I peeled out of the driveway. As I drew closer to the docks I could feel Flora in my head. The words weren’t clear, but her feelings were. She was worried.
I eased the car to a stop on the outskirts of the mammoth warehouses lining the water. Opening the door, my mind swirled at a dizzying pace.
It’s a trap mija. Do not try to save me. It’s a trap, mija. Do not try to save me…
Flora! Her voice was such a welcome relief despite her words.
Fortunately for her, I was known to be stubborn. Unfortunately, for her captors, there wasn’t a trap built stronger than the bond of family. I made my way toward her prison, preparing myself for the lecture Aunt Flora was sure to give me for disobeying her…again.
