Journey Series

Journey Series

Monday, July 25, 2016

Flash Fiction Scene – Change sucks

This is yet another week of fiction that comes from my own emotional state of mind. Sorry for such dreary post the last couple of times. I promise I will try to lighten the mood next week, but as anyone with a creative bone in their body knows, you go where your mind takes you.
Have a great week.
Remember let your imagination soar when you read.
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Life can suck worse than a thumb tack stuck in your foot. Okay, maybe worse since the thumb tack can be removed. Change . . . it can’t be avoided. Not even if it is going to upend years of hard work and years of staying stable and in control of your own mind. Nope. It can’t be avoided. Change sucks.
“What is it?” Soft hand slid under my hair, picking up the gentle massage that always soothed my racing through. “You’re going to get lines.”
I huffed, not worrying about lines, but it was typical comment from Mark. The man obsessed over his flawless perfection. I had to agree his rich brown skin was the second thing that drew me to him. First, was his masculine, slightly slanted cheek bones. He was perfection served on a silver platter.
“Ricky . . .”
Oh boy, I was in for it. He never called me by my whole first name, unless he thought I was being childish. Might have been. No need for him to worry over my own stability when I was going to be doing it enough for the next few months.
“I mean it, babe. Tell me what is going on.”
Wasn’t going to bring him down with me. He didn’t need to worry over my ass. He done that enough over the years. Nope. Not bothering him with this issue. Going to keep it . . . Who was I trying to kid. My mouth opened and let it spill free, relieving some of the tension ebbing through my veins.
“My therapist isn’t working for the company anymore. Means I’m going to have to change doctors as well.” I waited for the nod of understanding or the look of sadness mixed with dread, but what I got was way worse. I think. Maybe not. Not sure. Either way, my lover of five years took my mind off the pending change.
“You aren’t the same person. You overcome so much, this will be like taking that long haired little white and gray animal you call Bandit for his daily walk. Doable in your sleep.”

My mouth was pressed against his before the last word hit my ears. It wasn’t the least bit of a sexy kiss, but it wasn’t meant to be. It was meant to show him just how much I appreciated his confidence in me, even if I was sure his words were wrong. It helped to hear encouraging words. It helped to have someone take note of all the progress I made over the years. Other words, my lover did exactly what he always did. Eased my distress.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Flash Fiction Scene – Life Long Love

Hi all,

I must have been feeling kind of sad when I wrote this week’s post, but guess we all have those days. Still, I hope the post entertains you and gives you an insight to how deep love can run.
Have a great week.
Let your imagination soar when you read.
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The back of Darrel’s hand ran across his face, staring down at his hand. Something wasn’t right? Why was he staring at his hand? Were there more tears gracing his tanned skin? Should have been. How could there not be? Did it mean love didn’t run as deep as two lovers believed? Had to have. His father and Darrel had been together for thirty years, ten of which before dad and him decided to extend their family by adopting. July 10 of 1996 had been the best day any foster child the age of five could have.
“You okay, baby?” Kimp wrapped an arm around him.
‘Fine, sweetie.”
“Liar.” Kimp kissed his cheek, squeezing his waist. “Jake, I’ve been at your side for six years and when you nibble on your lower lip there’s something amiss in your perfect world.”
Course he knew me. Kimp ran across the track field, right in the middle of a hurdle challenge, after he got one look. It’d been kind of funny. Kimp had been the star of the track and field event, but instead of heading to his next jump he diverted directions and charged towards some college freshman with an arm load of books who’d stumbled to the wrong section of campus.
“Okay. Not so fine.”
Kimp didn’t respond, with words at least, but his raised eyebrow and one eye stare spoke volumes. His lover wanted him to continue.
“Darrel . . . he was wiping his face again and . . . he seemed . . . There he goes again.”
Kimp titled his head from side to side, frowning. “He’s upset. Isn’t that expected?”
“Yes.” More than, but . . . “Watch. He’ll look at his hand.”
Kimp shrugged. “He lost his lover in the most horrifying way. I’m sure Darrel is upset.”
“But he’s not wiping his hand as if . . .”
“You don’t think he’s crying?” Kimp took hold of his chin. “I’m promise you, he is crying. Inside, if nowhere else.”
“Then why . . .”
“Darrel and your dad lived a long happy life together. He will cry many nights, even years from now, but crying don’t require tears each time. Maybe . . . He might be surprised not to feel any tears. It doesn’t really matter does it?”

Did it? No. He knew Darrel loved his father. He’d seen them together each day of their live for the last twenty years. There were no two people more in love than his father and Darrel. Well . . . besides him and Kimp. There was no way . . . He wasn’t going there. Nope. Not even bringing that possibility to life. If he thought, it . . .  He was not jinxing his and Kimp’s life. He never wanted to experience losing his lifelong love.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Scene Flash Fiction – No Magic Left

Hope everyone had an amazing week. If not then maybe this little unedited scene will brighten the start of your week. Have a great one.
Remember let your imagination soar when you read.

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My stomach cramped from laughter. Kelly, the most logical and sane person I knew, told me she was a witch. At first, I thought I misheard and she called herself a bitch. She’s done it many times when she was ticked at overlooking something. She quickly set me straight when I reminded her of how un-bitchy she was. Slap upside the head was her retaliation for what she called stupidity. Then the beanpole look-a-like fiery red haired woman informed me she’d turn me into toad if I misheard her again.
“I meant what I said.”
I didn’t doubt she had. One small problem, there was no magic left among the world. The wizard people died out before either one of us was born, thanks to the air pollution eating away their natural born talent. The wizard people had been spread out across the entire world for centuries, but the last ten years of their existences they’d openly lived among the humans. Many made a great living by creating and selling simply spells. Other used their skills to assistance the dying. Unlike what the wizard people feared when the world discovered them there was no hostility or riots against them. They were accepted into the flow of society.
“Jack . . . I’m warning you.” Kelly pointed her index finger at me. “Stop the hyena laughter or I’m going to make you a ugly brownish frog.”
“Kelly . . .” I pursed my lips, forcing the next round of belly holding mirth down. “The joke is . . .”

A white little spark flew from her fingertip and zapped me in the dead center of my chest. My hand flew up to my chest, but the small streak was gone and so was my hours spent in the gym masculine chest. I looked to where Kelly had been standing and saw only bright blades of grass.

Monday, July 4, 2016

Flash Fiction Phrase What to do?

Sorry I forgot to make a post last week. Kind of a busy one. I do apologize. I hope this week’s post finds everyone having an amazing Fourth of July. Let is spark your week off in the best way.
Remember let your imagination soar when you read.
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Unedited Scene
Adult Content
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What to do? What to do? Red, orange flames flowed from the ground. Not like any fire he’d ever saw. Nope. There was no smoke to choke you or make your eyes sting. There was only heat and it crept towards him, no one else. It consumed nothing, not even the browning grass under it. The strange flame had its non-existing eye set on him.
“Move, Theo.”
Theo whipped his head towards Sal, the one friend he had since first grade. What was Sal doing there? He couldn’t let his best bud come to his rescue. The flame was deadest on his target and that wasn’t Sal. Sal needed to remain far from the sitatuion at hand.
“Get out of here.”
Theo darted to his left, taking the trail behind him. He knew it well. Should, he ran it four times a day. Who would’ve known a steady routine of jogging would truly save his life one day. The unusual fire did just like Theo expected, followed. Problem was, faster he ran the closer the fire seemed to get.
“What now?” He asked himself, but got an answer from Sal.
“You let me do my job.”
“What the . . .” Theo stumbled, landing hard on his hands. “Where did you come . . .”
“Not now.” Sal stepped in front of him and lifted his hands, chanting in some strange language. Sort of resembled someone talking backwards. The fire was an inch away from him, but instead of touching him it began to shrink and a loud shrill filled the silent night.
Theo watched on as the fire disappeared and the late night crickets began to sing their song of happiness.
“You okay?” Sal wiped his hands on his shirt.
“Okay? You seriously asking me that?”
“What the hell was that?”
“Fire Demon.”
“Demon? What the . . .” Darkness consumed him as he heard his mother’s voice.

“He doesn’t know, Sal.”