Flash Fiction Friday (marbles/gargoyles/code red)

I put Honor's prologue in the blog that I'm using for her. You can access it from the side panel by clicking on the book cover.

Okay... it's flashy fiction time. If you don't already visit Flashy Fiction... you should. http://flashyfiction.blogspot.com/ Seriously, what are you waiting for? Here are the prompts and pieces I wrote this week:

March 1st

Prompt:

Bad is never good until worse happens. -Danish Proverb

Mine:

This sucked. This was hell. He felt crowded and filthy. Safety in numbers? What a joke. Later--after they'd passed out supplies, he'd get away from this crowd. All he could smell was sweat and dirt... and people. Too many people.

"Whatcha got there?" the girl asked, sitting down beside Nate. She dropped a backpack at her feet as she leaned against the wall beside him, crowding him. They were all crowding him.

All that remained alive were sitting beside a concrete wall in the dead part of town waiting for the week's distribution of food and water. This was it. Everyone alive was right here... crowding him.

When the entire city fried via the atomic pulse, only the less industrial dead side of town survived. The dead side. It was interesting that the dead side of town survived, in Nate's opinion. Ironic. As if a higher power was laughing at technology. He tossed the super round rock from hand to hand. It looked like a rock carved into a sphere.

"It's a rock, isn't it?" she asked, gesturing. "Did you make it?"

"I found it," Nate said, continuing to toss the rock from hand-to-hand.

"It's weird," the teenage girl beside him said. "It looks like a giant marble." She was his age and, truth to be told, probably cute underneath the grime of two weeks of rubble hell.

"Yeah... there were a bunch of them. Other people found them too. Maybe it's a sign.... or something," Nate said. He didn't really know what he was saying, but her nearness was doing funny things to his stomach. There was the rumble of hunger that was always present... but something else tickled his insides. Anticipation of... what?

Her eyes followed path of the rock. "Do you ever get the feeling that maybe there are bigger forces at work and we're just a game?" She was leaning closer to him, though she probably didn't realize it. Her dirty hand clutched at his soiled sleeve. He didn't mind it so much.

"You're hung up on the marbles thing," Nate said, trying not to smile.

"There are weird things happening out there," she whispered.

Someone walking by quickly snatched the bag from in front of her and took off running with it.

"HEY! My food!" she shouted, trying to get to her feet.

Nate beamed the thief with the rock and he fell in a heap. She retrieved the bag and his rock, leaving the thief where he fell.

"We should stick close together," Nate said to her. "Pool our resources and protect each other." He'd seen one of the bigger guys, glancing her way and checking out her legs. Yeah. She needed him and being needed... sounded pretty damn good. Plus, she had food to share.

She smiled... a flash of white against her dusty skin. Dropping the rock into his hand, she said, "My name's Ali... that sounds good." She sat even closer than before, and Nate glared at the guy checking her out.

"Yeah. Close together," he repeated. He put her backpack beside his and looped his leg through both the shoulder straps. The rock began its arc again.

March 4th

Prompt:

edifice

strategic

cold

Mine:

At the top of the imposing edifice to the age of industrialism sat a curious sight. A gargoyle... hunched over his feet with a scowl so fierce it was at odds with the smooth, cold marble facade of the building that now housed, of all things, law offices. The gargoyle had always been there though no one knew why. It wasn't in the building's plans. It didn't fit.

The building's owner had considered having it removed, but there was something about its sinister expression and the long, sharp claws on its hands and feet. The owner wasn't superstitious. Modern above anything else. Progress was his by-word. The inside of the building had been remodeled time and time again. Yet, the gargoyle remained. Its rough-hewn eyes watched the city below. Waiting. Always waiting.

It was no accident that it had been placed there. No... no accident at all. It's strategic placement, facing the sun just so... as its back welcomed the night was cunning of the one who'd placed it there.

An autumn sunset just as the penthouse's occupant stood after a long day. He stretched his stiff back as his hand flicked a laptop shut. Another day gone.

The gargoyle's leg shifted. A wing twitched. A new time began.

March 5th

Prompt:

Forgetting something important?

Mine:

For six months, we'd sat on either side of her... two code monkeys side-by-side with a goddess. During the summer, she had a fan in front of her that would blow her soft honey-colored hair in the air and sometimes... she'd dip forward and pull her shirt away from her skin so the breeze could cool her luscious body too. Usually, we just sat beside her salivating, but once Duane had been walking by in front of her when she'd done this and tripped spilling an entire Code Red on the floor in front of her desk.

Alanna. Even her name was beautiful and slightly elven.

So, it was just after seven p.m. on a Friday and while Alanna had left, Duane and I were still plugging away at our computer. The scent of her hair... which also smelled of honey... was still in the air. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

I'd been staring at my computer screen for twenty minutes while thinking of her. Duane noticed and threw a Cheeto at me, laughing.

"You should give it up. She doesn't even know your name," he said.

"I'm pretty sure she thinks of you as Code Red guy," I muttered... eating the Cheeto.

There was a loud beep over the speaker system above us, and it was as if we'd summoned her voice directly from the heavens. "Guys, I need to get in for something but I left my card key at home. I hope one of you is there to let me in. If you are... I'll buy you a drink... this is really important." There was a soft purring sigh in her voice... a sadness nearly palpable. She needed me.

I jumped to my feet just as Duane did the same.

"I got this!" I yelled, sprinting for the elevator.

"Like hell you do," he said, running too. We stopped at the elevator, pounding the down button alternately.

"I got this," I said, slapping his hand away.

"Whatever... she doesn't know you exist," he said, shoving me. He was really weak. I barely budged. Alanna deserved better.

"Guys?" her voice said, over the speaker. "Duane? Trenton?"

"Coming!" I shouted.

"We're on the fourth floor, moron," Duane said, shoving me again. "She can't hear you. Geez... the stairs would be faster than this...."

I bolted for the stairs while Duane was still finishing that thought. He caught me one flight down, slamming me into the wall. I tasted blood. He'd pay for that. I jumped over the rail down to the next flight of stairs. It was risky. I have weak ankles, but it put me ahead of him. He caught me again, diving at my mid-section. Wow... weak but fast and wiry. I slid out of the way at the last second, and he hit the wall. I had one flight left, and I shoved through the stairwell door seconds ahead of Duane. Since the stairwell door was in sight of the front door where Alanna stood... I was the victor and Duane hung back swearing and not wanting to appear overly eager.

She was there in a brief red dress that clearly didn't have pockets. In fact, I don't think she was even able to wear underwear underneath. It hugged her curves as if it had been photoshopped on at the last minute. I could barely breathe as I let her in.

"Oh... thank you," she squealed, leaning forward to hug me. She smelled like honey and... Alanna. I choked on my tongue. "I just knew you'd be here, Duane."

"Uhh, Trenton," I said. It was sad that she'd both knew I'd be here and called me by the wrong name, but I was willing to overlook that... especially when she looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.

"Trenton," she repeated, her voice breathy.

I thanked the God of Nerds which occasionally smiled down upon me and let hot girls forget something important.

Flash Fiction Friday (Panda, Ghosts, Brick, Nudity is fun)

Okay, it's been a while, but I went and did some flashy fiction yesterday, and I know how much you like it when I flash... you with fiction.

February 6th

Prompt:

"Are you sure it's supposed to look like that?"

Mine:

"Is that the model from behind?" the kid next to me asked. He examined my painting and then the nude model lounging in front of the class.

"No," I said.

"Isn't that her butt, though?" Larry asked from the other side of me. "If that's meant to be her from in front, you aren't seeing what I'm seeing. Plus, you're using the wrong colors. Blue and green? It's like someone beat her with a stick."

"Are you sure it's supposed to look like that?" the girl in back of me hissed.

I rolled my eyes. Who cared about the model? She was plain and uninspiring. I was painting the beautiful girl in front of me... who was probably blocking her own painting of the model with her curvy, clothed form. Carissa turned to look at me. Her blue eyes tipped up slightly at the edges giving her an exotic look. Her red lips were puckered and looked like they wanted to be kissed. She smiled at me. I smiled back.

She took a step to the side, so I could see my own face looking back at me. She was painting me? Dipping her paint brush into the flesh tones... she painted, "443-8974 Call me" just below my chin.

I snatched my pen up, wrote it on my palm, and a moment later, a brush stroke obliterated the words--but not the satisfied smile on her face.

February 8th

Prompt:

"Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge." -Paul Gauguin

Mine:

Slapping the brick from Edgar's hand, Allen said, "What are you doing?"

"You slept with my wife. I'm walling you into this sidewall... just like in this book I'm reading," Edgar said.

"You git! You can't wall a conscious person up into a brick wall. They have to be unconscious. Do you expect me to just stand here while you're building a wall around me?"

Edgar nailed him in the head with the next brick. Allen dropped in a heap.

"Good point, Allen. This'll be much easier," he said, starting a fresh layer of bricks and dipping his trowel in the cement. "Much easier."

February 9th

Prompt

Mine:

"He's going out again," Travis said, gesturing at the back window.

"Hush up, Travis," his mother said.

"Gramps has cracked, Mom. We both know it. He should be in a home or something." Travis chewed on a wad of gum. He'd replace it with tobacco when he was out of the house, but this would have to do with his mom around.

"I think it's sweet." His mother washed out the remainder of the breakfast dishes while gazing out at her father. "It's only been a year."

"Yeah, but he goes out there, sits in that chair, and talks to her like she is sitting in a chair next to him. It's weird enough having that chair out back," Travis said.

"It's not hurting anyone."

Travis rolled his eyes and pushed through the back screen door of the ancient farmhouse, striding toward the chair.

As he approached, he could hear his grandfather say, "No, Nell, the boy will be fine. You'll see."

His grandfather was deaf as a post and didn't hear Travis's feet in the grass as his grandson crept up.

"Nell, are you sure he is the one killing the chickens?" his grandfather asked.

Travis stopped and stared. He and his friends had snagged a few of his grandfather's chickens a couple nights back. There was no way that his grandfather could know that. Still, there was no way his dead grandmother was sitting in a chair beside him telling him this stuff. Was there?

Looking at the ground, he noticed a patch of dead earth to the side of the chair his grandfather sat in. It was as if something was blocking the sun from that spot of grass. Grandpa Troy was too frail to move the chair. Still, if it wasn't Grandpa Troy's chair killing the ground beside it... whose was it?

Travis turned around and strode back to the house.

"You're right," he told his mom. "It's nothing."

"I told you," she said,smiling over her shoulder. Dropping the dishcloth to the side of the sink, she asked in concern, "What's wrong, Travis? You look like you've seen a ghost."

February 11th

Prompt:

Misfortune shows those who are not really friends.

-- Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC)

Mine:

I answered the door, dressed in a panda suit. My date looked at me in shocked disbelief.

"Uh, Faith, what's with the panda suit?"

I didn't even look like a real panda. I looked like a giant child's stuffed animal There was no mask, but the hood on my head conveyed that I wasn't just dressed in an unflattering black and white jumper. No, I was a panda.

"What?" I asked, plastering a confused look on my face.

"Uhh... the bear thing," he said, gesturing at my outfit.

I looked down. In the distance, I could hear my roommate run into the bathroom before she could ruin this by laughing.

I shook my head while narrowing my eyes. "Are you feeling okay, Billy?"

"You're wearing a panda suit!" he said.

Keeping my face straight, I said, "No... I'm not."

"YOU ARE." He gestured at me again before running a hand through his hair. "I can't take you out dressed like that."

"Dressed... like... what?" I asked.

"LIKE THAT!" He groaned. "Look... just go change. We can still make the movie if you hurry."

I narrowed my eyes. "You can't tell me what to do."

He stormed off toward his jeep just as a ratty old Cadillac waited for him to exit the driveway. A moment later, a new guy appeared at my front step. He took in my outfit in a glance.

"Cool. Do I get one too?" he asked.

I unzipped the panda suit and pulled it off to reveal my actual attire. I fluffed my hair, saying, "That thing was hot."

Betty stuck her head around the corner. "He didn't run off."

"No. I'd say my portion of the forfeit is fulfilled," I said.

"Yep, next time bet on the Saints, bubs," she said. "I'll let bachelor number three know you're taken." She looked at my date for the night and said, "Hey, Luke, for the record... I was betting on you."

Luke smiled and said, "I'm a little disappointed that the Panda costume came off."

I winked at him and said, "Honey, it was bound to come off sooner or later tonight."

Flashing Friday (Painting/Honor and Reeve)

First of all, I feel better. Wow. I feel so much better. I'm not dizzy. My brain feels all clear and fantastic and I feel like eating real food today. Non-cracker food. (Why do I feel like I ought to explain that isn't an ethnic slur?) I'm so excited. I just felt like death on a stick all day yesterday. I don't know what that was or how I came about it, but I'm hoping that It'll be gone today. That was horrible yesterday and trying to relax just seemed to make it more obvious rather than make it better. Ugh. Anyway, I'm hoping... it's gone.

Secondly, I'm a huge slacker. I haven't done any Flash Fiction this week. I loved some of the prompts. I went to check them out yesterday and just trying to concentrate made me want to hurl. Geez... the sound of text messages coming in made me want to hurl. I was like this freaky little Gollum on the couch yesterday just lurking on Twitter while curled into corner. "We hates everything. We twitters, but we hates everything." If you don't believe me, you can ask Diana... I believe I sent her one of the whiniest, grumpiest emails in the history of emails. The phrase "What fresh hell is this?" was used. (I only drag out Shakespeare when I'm really grumpy for the record... or when I'm patronizing....) So, instead of flash, I'll be posting something personally revealing. Woo woo! Prepare to be flashed.

Here is a painting I did that I gave to my mom for a room she's decorated with a castle/medieval theme:

The book he is reading says, "How to Train your Princess to do Simple Tricks." It's one of the paintings that shows how strange my sense of humor is at times.

But, wait, there is more flashing to be done. I've been posting tweets from my Honor books, and post 140 characters of quotes is annoying the.... well, it's annoying. We'll let you fill that in with whatever you feel like saying today. So, I thought I'd post a section that I was already posting from last night that requires very little explanation. It's from Place of Honor (Honor #3.) It's long and imperfect, but no one is forcing you to read it, so quit your whining. (Okay, so there is still the tiniest bit of cranky left today.)

Anyway, it starts with Honor throwing a coin in a fountain:

I veered over toward a fountain. Reeve handed me a penny before I even asked. He found my desire to wish on stars and pennies to be amusing for someone who didn’t believe in fantasy.

It was one of the few sweet and non-violent impulses that I allowed myself. There was some part of me that wanted that kind of magic to be possible. It had to be. Right?

I stood with my back to the fountain, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

‘What do you wish for?’ he asked inside my head.

I peeked one eye open. “I’m not supposed to tell you.” I closed my eye and took another deep breath.

‘Why?’ he asked. I could feel he’d gotten closer to me and it made my heart jump around a little.

“It won’t come true if I say it out loud,” I said.

‘So…. Don’t say it out loud. Just tell me.’ His voice in my head sounded warm and deep.

“It’s against the rules,” I whispered while frowning at him. I could tell he was prowling around in front of me trying to force me to open my eyes.

‘What rules?’

“THE rules,” I explained. “The unwritten rules regarding wishing on anything….”

‘So, you’re saying that someone thought of our situation when coming up with unwritten rules?’ His tone was amused.

Reeve was really close now. I could feel the warmth from his body. It made me shiver.

He chuckled.

“Yes, they knew someday two people would come along who could hear each other’s thoughts and one of them would be vastly annoying about cheating on the wishing rules,” I said.

I scrunched up my nose. I was going to have to try extra hard to block him out so I could make a wish. Actually, most of what I wished for was right in front of me trying to annoy me enough to kick him. I frowned and said, “Actually, the frustrating thing is that if I did tell you what I’d wish for, you’d be forced to try to give it to me. That ruins wishes.”

“Not necessarily,” he said. “Maybe it’d be something I wanted to give you.” He said it in a husky voice that made me wonder what he had in mind even while I shivered again.

“Are you cold?” he asked amused… knowing that I wasn’t.

“Well, if that was the case, if you wanted to give me something, then you could do that without me forcing you to,” I pointed out.

Then, an idea for my fountain wish came to me. I wished Reeve loved me the same way that I loved him. I wished that with every part of myself… especially the girly part that believed in wishing.

‘You know what I’d wish for?’ Reeve asked.

I tossed the coin over my shoulder, opened my eyes, and asked, “What?” while raising an eyebrow.

He was staring down at my hips but looked up smiling. His smile was dangerously close to a smirk. That smile always meant one thing.

I cleared my throat and said, “Never mind. I think I know.”

‘Did you ever decide which step seeing you naked was on this path to mating? I’m guessing we’re not going through these steps very quickly. How many steps are there? Ten? Fifteen?’

His questions sounded vague and thoughtful. I got the feeling he might know more about the steps, so I decided not to attempt a stumbling and embarrassing guess. I didn’t have much input to give. I was four years old even if my memories of the world seemed a little older. He was four hundred and five. He must have gained some carnal knowledge in all those years.

He’d read books. Books had ‘stuff’ in them. I’d read a very interesting book that I’d borrowed from Pamela in which a vampire was the lead male character even. Most of the ‘pertinent’ descriptions had left me feeling a bit ill. I like to think that made me practical and rational. Seriously, who throws around the words “heaving”, “swollen”, and “engorged” thinking it sounds sexy when you could use those same words to describe viewing a case of gangrene. I think the fact that I was repulsed just goes to show you that I saw a more universal application of the adjectives in use.

I looked at Reeve who still had a serious look on his face.

I found it strange that he was wondering about seeing me naked again. I couldn’t figure out what the draw was. I was short and scrawny.

Reeve looked over my body as if considering a puzzle or writing up a checklist, and I shifted uncomfortably.

What if, once he saw the full me, he wasn’t interested anymore in me at all? Maybe he’d get tired of me…. Maybe he secretly wanted someone more like Callie. She looked so statuesque and perfectly perfect. Reeve was perfect. He was huge and muscled. I stared at the frown on his sculpted mouth.

Did it matter if there were any steps beyond kissing? Kissing was pretty amazing. My stomach jumped around like a wild thing trying to fly every time. Why clutter up something perfect with crass groping or my nakedness?

Reeve finally said, “From what I’ve seen, I think there are probably nine steps.’

“Yeah?” I asked aloud. Wow. He must have really thought this through. I might have made up a step just to make it an even ten, though. Reeve wouldn’t. He was strictly honest… sometimes to a fault.

Okay. So he wasn’t perfect… but I didn’t hold his honesty against him.

“I think we’re on two,” he calculated.

Two? Two wasn’t very far. Was he telling me this because we were taking too long?

“Your point?” I asked crossing my arms.

“I just told you,” he said in confusion. “I think seeing you naked is around step seven.”

“Step seven? What are steps uhh….? No. Wait. I don’t want to know. Let’s just get going.”

I started walking and then turned to see him looking at me from behind while walking very slowly.

“You’re starting to make this creepy,” I warned him while putting my hands on my hips.

“I find you fascinating,” he said honestly.

I felt my cheeks flush and my heart start thumping. I felt flattered and terrified. Was that the same as saying he loved me? Probably not. I wondered what step that was. Maybe it wasn’t one in Reeve’s mind. My heart started thudding… from dread.

What if he really didn’t love me? Now that I thought about it, fascinating wasn’t the same as a declaration of affection of any kind.

A snake swallowing a rat was fascinating in a grotesque way. That really clarified the definition in my mind. Fascinating could be documentary-worthy. Then, there was that woman with the world’s longest fingernails in the world record books. That was fascinating.

“It would be nice if it was before step seven. Maybe we could skip steps?” he suggested, dragging my mind away from vile topics.

“We can’t skip steps! That’s why there are steps.” I threw my hands up in the air for emphasis and to distract him from the sound of my nervous heartbeat.

It worked, because, for a moment, he followed my hands with his eyes as if they were saying something. It was wise of him, because most of my hand movements were making a statement. This one was saying, “SKIP STEPS! NO! Then we’ll get to the monster at the end of the book which is where you see me naked and freak out.”

“We can skip step five, though,” he said. “I’m more interested in seeing you naked.”

“We CAN’T skip step five! That’s an important step.” I had no idea what step five was. It could be sharing straws for all I knew. I was just not ready to jettison ahead to step seven.

“We could move step seven up so that it’s step four or five and just slide the remainder of the steps backward. We wouldn’t be skipping things that way,” he suggested.

I narrowed my eyes.

“You’ve seen me naked,” he pointed out.

I choked a little. Wow. That memory was both disturbing and good. “It wasn’t by choice. You and all the Hunters seem to think the Inner City is some sort of men’s locker room.”

“You were the first female there in five hundred years.”

“Just because you prefer for there not to be any mystery….”