February Fiction Friday!! Episode 4

“What makes you think I’m just a man?”  Simon said with a small grin.

          Somehow, I knew he was going to say that.  Over the last couple hours I had been unnerved in a way I had never been before.  Oh sure, this wasn’t my first strange encounter, but usually I was the cause of it, not the other way around.  I knew at the train station he was different, I just didn’t know how much different.

“You are an amazing little thing aren’t you?  So beautiful, and so unaware of your own gifts.  The fact that we are even sitting here talking is exhilarating.  I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long.”  Simon said interrupting my thoughts.

          Exhilarating?  This man hadn’t so much as twitched while sitting on my couch, but he was excited?  “Why do you say that?  What gifts?  How long have you been stalking me?”  I asked.

“Patience Ella, we’ll get to all that.  But first, we really need to get past this trust issue.”  He moved so fast I barely had time to react before he was standing in front of me reaching out.

          It was a reflex, something I’d learn to control over the years, but when I got scared, things just…happened.  I was suddenly standing in the doorway across the room again while he was left staring at my empty chair.  I moved slightly and he slowly turned to face me, grinning like a madman.

“Very good Ella.  I was wondering how long it would take.  You have some control and that my dear is such a rare quality in a woman.”  Simon said.

“What are you?”  I asked again.  “No human could move like that.”

“Now I would say that was the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”  Simon said. 

          I was starting to get irritated with this little cat and mouse game he was playing.  He lunged for me again, and once again I was on the other side of the room, standing next to the couch.  Only this time I was holding Grover in my arms.  If I was going to make a break for it, I wasn’t leaving him behind no matter how much of a tratoir he was right now.

“Impressive.  What do you call that by the way?”  Simon asked causally.

“Blinking.”  Embarrassing as it was, I had never been able to come up with a better word for it.

          Simon tilted his head back and roared with laughter.  “Blinking.  Well, I suppose that’s as good a description as any.  Do you have anything else you want to show me?”  Now he was leaning his left side against the door frame and crossed his arms, waiting for my response.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t leave now.”  I said, once again with a lot more confidence than I actually felt.  I knew what he was.  He was a demon, and I had always been taught to never trust a demon.  I’d seen a few over the years, but I had always been taught to stay away from them.  If they didn’t see me, they couldn’t hurt me.

“You’re not going to hurt me Ella.  I’m stronger than you are and I’ve already told you that I’m here to help you.”

“You’re a demon.  What do you want from me?”  I asked.

“I’m not a demon Ella.  However some people might call me that based on past experiences.”  He was smiling again.  It was a nice smile, a wicked smile.

“If you’re not a demon, then what the hell are you?”  I was getting annoyed.

“I’m a Sidhe.  Well, half one anyway.”  He said it so nonchalantly I thought he was being sarcastic again.  Then I looked into those eyes again and saw the truth, he was serious.

“A what?”  I asked trying not to sound as disturbed as I felt.

“A Sidhe.  Daoine Sidhe actually.”  He made it sound like I was supposed to know what that was.

“What the hell is a Doaine Sidhe?”  I asked exasperated.  Trying to get a straight answer out of Simon was like trying to get Grover to try a new cat food.  Impossible.

          Simon sighed, shook his head slightly and said, “So much to learn.  Let me ask you something first Ella.  Who taught you how to ‘blink’ or do the glamour you attempted to fool me with earlier at the train station?”

          So he had seen me.  It hadn’t been my imagination, he saw me and I saw him.  The real me, not the one everyone else sees, but me.  I try very hard to remain unnoticeable to people and the things that go bump in the night.  If they can’t see me, they can’t hurt me.  That was lesson one and it has been my motto all my life. 

“That’s none of your business.  What do you mean ‘glamour’?”  I said holding Grover a little tighter.

“I saw through your shield.  The one you were trying to hide behind.  It was a good effort, but like I said, I’m stronger than you are.  However you did surprise me by seeing through mine.  Not many can do that.  Tell me, what do I look like right now?”  He asked.

“You’re kidding right?”  I asked raising an eyebrow.

“What do I look like Ella?”  Simon asked again.

“Fine.  You’re tall, about 6’2”.  You have dark brown hair and blue eyes.  You have a straight nose and high cheekbones.  Your shoulders are broad but you don’t look like a body builder.  You’re skin is fair, but not pasty white.  It looks smooth, unblemished.  How old are you anyway?”

“Excellent.  And that’s none of your business.”  He said throwing my words back at me.  I’d left out the part about him being strikingly gorgeous.  I didn’t want to feed his arrogance.

“So what does that prove?”  I asked.

“That you can see what others can’t.  You’re unique.  Untrained, but powerful.”  Simon said.

          I’d had enough.  Simon had rattled me and I wasn’t going to sit by and let him continue to goad and frighten me.  He needed to go, so I could run.  I raised my palm up in front of me.  I saw Simon’s eyes widen slightly when he looked at my outstretched hand.  His mouth opened slightly as if he was about to say something.

“I’m not that untrained.”  I said, right before I threw a fireball at his head.

 

This post is part of a weekly fiction challenge I'm trying. It's a new month and that comes with a new theme. This month's theme is romance and this week's prompt was:

Your character has a certain deep-held belief about love and fidelity. This belief may be based on religion, on something s/he learned from her/his parents, or on her/his own experience. Decide what this belief is and where it came from. In your story, something happens to the character that seems incompatible with this belief. How does your character react? Write the story.

Make sure you check out the other writers participating!

http://www.worldsworstmoms.com/
http://www.susannenelson.wordpress.com/
http://www.debiehive.blogspot.com/
http://www.mollyfield.com/
http://the-suds-box.blogspot.ca/
http://quirkychrissy.wordpress.com
http://neargenius1.blogspot.com
http://itsadomelife.com

And make sure to visit our tweet pages at:

@clearlykristal
@worldsworstmoms
@BuLaMamaNi
@SusanneNelson1
@ItsADomeLife
@DeBieHive
@MollyFieldTweet
@Near_Genius

February Fiction Friday!! Prompt 3

     The room went still around me again, just like at the train station.  Click.  Nothing else in the room mattered except him.  His presence felt large, unworldly and slightly dangerous.  Part of me was screaming “run” and another part of me was screaming “mine”.  I should have run.

“Who are you?”  I asked standing frozen in the doorway.

“A friend.”  He said.  He was sitting lazily on my sofa with my traitorous cat Grover curled up next to his leg purring and watching me.

“Friends usually knock and wait to be invited in before making themselves at home in my apartment.”  I said with a lot more confidence than I really felt. 

“How did you get in here by the way?”  I asked, starting to get some of my nerve back.

“Grover let me in.”  He said with a smile on his face and a flash in those blue eyes that could have been amusement or insanity, I wasn’t really sure which.

          Once again I felt the room growing smaller around me.  How did he know my cat’s name?  If he was trying to unnerve me, mission accomplished.  I tried not to show my discomfort at his statement and just stared straight into his eyes.  Neither one of us said anything for what seemed like an eternity.  Finally I heard his voice next to my ear again, “Relax Ella, I’m not going to hurt you?”  However his expression never changed and he didn’t as much as twitch on my sofa.  He sat so still it reminded me of Grover when he’s about to pounce on a cat toy.

          I did an involuntary gasp, and took a small step back until my back was up against the door frame.  “That’s the second time you’ve done that.  How are you doing that?  What do you want?  How do you know my cat’s name?”

          I was asking too many questions all at once, verging on the edge of complete panic.  I was starting to think this wasn’t just an ordinary psychopath who’d broken into my apartment and befriended my cat.  This man, this beautiful, elegant, mysterious man wasn’t just a man.  And he was dangerous.

“Ella.  Please sit down.  I’m not going to hurt you.  I just want to talk to you.  Look, Grover trusts me, you should too.”  This time he spoke in a clear voice with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place.

“Obviously he’s lost his mind too.”  I said moving slightly away from the wall.  I made my way slowly, cautiously to the chair sitting as far away from him as possible.

“Who are you?”  I asked again.

“My name is Simon.”  He said getting a little more comfortable on my couch.

“What are you?”  I asked.

“Ah, better.  Now that’s a better question and one that’s not easily answered.”  Simon said pointing a finger at me and grinning.

“What do you want?”  I had still not received a straight answer from this man/thing/creature and my frustration was starting to show. 

“To help you.  Think of me as your guide.  You’re going to need one.”  He said it so calmly that it was hard not to burst out laughing or better yet run away screaming.  I suddenly had a flash of every slasher movie I had ever seen and thought running away screaming seemed like the appropriate action.  This was the most insane situation I had ever found myself in, and I’d been in quite a few.  But something was keeping me from throwing a lamp at his head and running for the door.  I just didn’t know what at the time.

“You want help me?  Sorry Simon, but I’m all set on men who like to be lunatic stalkers.  Thanks for the offer but I think I’ll pass.”  I have a tendency to turn to sarcasm when I’m unnerved.

Simon’s smiled wavered slightly and his eyes flashed at me again.  “What makes you think I’m just a man?” 

This post is part of a weekly fiction challenge I'm trying. It's a new month and that comes with a new theme. This month's theme is romance and this week's prompt was:

When was the last time you looked into someone’s gorgeous eyes? Maybe they were sea green and seemed to have all the secrets of the world behind them? What would happen if you had a chance to know this person intimately? Then you find that person has a dark secret that would bring your perfect but lonely life to its knees.

Make sure you check out the other writers participating!

http://www.quirkychrissy.wordpress.com
http://www.worldsworstmoms.com/
http://www.bulamamani.com/
http://www.susannenelson.wordpress.com/
http://www.itsadomelife.com/
http://www.debiehive.blogspot.com/
http://www.mollyfield.com/
http://neargenius1.blogspot.com/
http://the-suds-box.blogspot.ca/
http://www.quirkychrissy.com/
And make sure to visit our tweet pages at:

@clearlykristal
@worldsworstmoms
@BuLaMamaNi
@SusanneNelson1
@ItsADomeLife
@DeBieHive
@MollyFieldTweet
@Near_Genius

 

 

 

February Fiction Challenge – Part 1

           Have you ever had the feeling someone’s watching you?  Call it a sixth sense or just being perceptive if you want, but either way; you just know when someone is watching you.  I felt him watching me before I ever saw him.  My name is Ella and today is the day my life changed.  Today is the day I was seen; truly seen for the first time.

          I was standing on the train platform waiting for the 6:13pm train home.  Just like every other day for the past four years.  I had my headphones on to block out the noise of people milling about around me, all of them anxious to get home on a Friday night.  I’m sure they all had families waiting for them or a night out planned with someone special.  I had Grover, just Grover; my incredibly lazy anti-social cat.  He could really care less if I was home or not, as long as his food bowl was refilled every morning.

          As I stood on the platform listening to my IPod, I started thinking about how routine my life had become.  I don’t know when it happened exactly, I’m not sure when each new day had suddenly become a repeat of the one before.  Maybe it was inevitable, maybe it’s because I like routines, schedules, planning, and being invisible.  Maybe I just preferred being predicable, maybe I just really liked the order of my life, or maybe I’m just the most boring person on the planet. 

          Men and relationships have never been a big part of my life.  I’m not the girl who turns heads when she walks into a room.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ugly, I’m just sort of unnoticeable.  I’m the watcher, I’m the one men never really see in a social setting.  I watch, listen and make a mental note of everything.  I see them, but they rarely see me.  I work very hard to make people believe I'm just another shy girl in the corner, even though I'm typically the most dangerous thing in the room.

          When the train arrived, I boarded along with everyone else and took a seat in the back of one of the cars.  As I started to sit down, I felt something prickling my spine.  It felt familiar, like the fingers of a lover sliding lightly up my back, but there was no one there.  I tried to shake the feeling off and sat down in the seat.  It didn’t work, something was off; something just didn’t feel right.  I turned to look out the window and that’s when I saw him.  He was standing on the platform, as close as he could get to my window, just looking at me.  

          His eyes met mine and it felt like a door closed.  Click.  Everything around me went quiet and still; there was nothing else, just him.  Just those eyes, blue, blue eyes with dark eyelashes that seemed to be looking straight into my sole.  Bottomless pools of blue that seemed surprised one second and insane the next.  He never moved, and we just stayed that way, neither one of us moving, neither of us smiling, just staring.  He never looked away and neither did I.  It wasn’t until the train started moving that I felt the link between us start to break and it felt wrong.  I didn’t want the connection to end, I felt desperate to hold on to it.  When he was almost out of sight I heard a soft whisper in my ear. “I’ll be seeing you again”.

          I should have been terrified.  I should have started screaming and asking for someone to call the police, but I wasn’t.  I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t hysterical, I wasn’t even shaking at the realization that I still had my headphones in my ears, so there was no way I could have heard him.  I was unexplainably…calm and curious.  Who was he?  And why did I suddenly feel like I'd just made a huge mistake leaving him behind?

          I spent the rest of the ride staring out the window, trying to make sense of what had just happened.  The logical part of my brain was telling me I was being ridiculous and he was just some creepy guy on the train platform.  He probably got his kicks out of scaring women and to just chalk it up to another lunatic in the city.  However there was the other part of my brain, the part I keep hidden, that kept telling me it was real.  That he’d seen me, and I’d seen him and that there was a connection between us that couldn’t and shouldn’t be ignored.  Good or bad.

          As I walked up to my apartment door, I suddenly froze.  My key poised in front of the door lock, the feeling was back.  He was close, I knew without a doubt he was near.  I stopped and turned around, looking down the hall, expecting to see him standing there again, but he wasn’t there.  I stood there for a full minute, waiting for him to appear, but he never did.  I sighed and thought to myself “well, it was official; you’re losing your mind”.  I shook my head and turned to let myself into my apartment.

          As usual, I set my bag on the end table next to the door, dropped my keys in the bowl next to it and crossed to the living room.  I turned on the lights and froze for the second time in less than five minutes.  He was sitting on my couch, lightly stroking Grover, who was sitting in his lap.  My anti-social cat, who hated everyone but me, was sitting in a stranger’s lap, relaxed and purring.

“Hello Ella.  I told you I’d be seeing you again.”  Click.

This post is part of a weekly fiction challenge I'm trying. It's a new month and that comes with a new theme.  This month's theme is romance and this week's prompt was:

When was the last time you looked into someone’s gorgeous eyes? Maybe they were sea green and seemed to have all the secrets of the world behind them? What would happen if you had a chance to know this person intimately?  Then you find that person has a dark secret that would bring your perfect but lonely life to its knees.

Make sure you check out the other writers participating!

http://www.quirkychrissy.wordpress.com
http://www.worldsworstmoms.com/
http://www.bulamamani.com/
http://www.susannenelson.wordpress.com/
http://www.itsadomelife.com/
http://www.debiehive.blogspot.com/
http://www.mollyfield.com/
http://neargenius1.blogspot.com/
http://the-suds-box.blogspot.ca/
http://www.quirkychrissy.com/
And make sure to visit our tweet pages at:

@clearlykristal
@worldsworstmoms
@BuLaMamaNi
@SusanneNelson1
@ItsADomeLife
@DeBieHive
@MollyFieldTweet
@Near_Genius

Fiction Friday - Prompt #2

          Samantha wasn’t sure she could pull it off. She was sitting across the table from Bill as he looked through the file of life altering documents on her laptop. She was trying not to start screaming and throwing knives at his head. All the years, all the time, effort, patience, and love she’d put into her marriage was gone. Snap. Just like that. In an instant she went from a quiet, well-like mother and housewife to a rage filled criminal.  

          The day she’d accidently caught Bill and his “friend” coming out of a restaurant downtown together, was the day her world imploded and the rage took control. Samantha became two people that day, a split personality of sorts. She was still the same old Samantha to everyone who knew her, even her husband. There was only one other person in her life that knew the other half of her. The Sam who turned into a criminal in order to seek vengeance on her husband for making a mockery of their marriage, Maddy. Maddy was more than just her best friend, she was her lawyer.

          Bill was still scanning the files, his face turning paler with each new document or picture he opened.  

“How did you get this?” Bill asked for the second time.

“Does it really matter?” Sam asked as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Of course it matters! I want to know who you hired to get you this! I want to know who I need to sue for hacking into my computer and invading my privacy!”  Bill yelled at her.          Saying nothing, Sam just stared passively at him.  Just as she’d done countless times over the years.  Bill saw her as a naïve, co-dependent, timid woman who wasn’t even smart enough to balance the checkbook.  He was now learning how wrong he was about her.

“Are you done?” Sam asked coolly.

“With what?” Bill asked.

“Are you done yelling and looking through the files?” Sam asked simmering with unreleased hatred towards this man.


“Yeah, I’m done with this.” Bill said as he picked up her laptop and threw it on the floor.

          Sam watched as the laptop hit the floor and slid into the wall. She watched as the case cracked and the screen flickered and then went blue. She stared at it for a few moments, then looked up at Bill. He was grinning like a madman. Bill looked like he was seriously on the edge of sanity at that moment. He was red face, sweating, grinning with tuffs of his always perfectly styled hair sticking out from the side of his head. He looked like a deranged Bozo the Clown, which suddenly struck her as hilarious. She couldn’t help it, she started giggling. Before her giggles could turn into a full-blown laugh, Sam swallowed hard and turned her rage back on. He broke her computer! Ok sure, it was only one of her computers, but as far as he knew, it was the only one she had.


“You don’t really think that was the only copy do you?” Sam asked sighing.


Bill took a deep breath, “Samantha, I know you’re hurt, but this isn’t funny anymore. You know you will never use this information against me, you love me too much. In time you will adjust to being on your own and realize there was no need for this.” Bill said. He was trying to manipulate her again. He only called her Samantha when he was trying to convince her that he was right and she was an idiot.


Sam stared at him in disbelief. “You really don’t know a thing about me do you?”


“I know you’re not going to blackmail me.” Bill said, regaining some of his composure.


“Are you sure about that?” Sam asked, leaning forward and grinned menacingly.


“I’m sure. You don’t have the guts to ruin me. Besides, if you ruin me, you won’t receive a dime and then what will you do? You need me.” Bill asked spitefully.


“What makes you think I need your money?” Sam asked, still grinning.


“Of course you need my money! Why else would you pull this stunt?” Bill said, he was getting angry again.


“Bill, I haven’t needed your money in years. Why am I doing this? Because you deserve it and because I really just can’t stand you.” Sam said sweetly.

 

 

This post is part of a fiction challenge I'm trying. And trust me, this prompt was a REAL challenge for me.  I hope you don't hate it.  :-)  This week's prompt was:

Invent a / your character (who) has two personality traits that are completely incompatible, that don't fit together at all. For example: this character is incredibly messy and is also a total perfectionist. Or: this character is a pacifist and also has a really explosive temper. Or: this character believes in strict, traditional family values but is promiscuous by nature. You decide. Then think of a situation in which these two sides of your character would be in direct conflict with each other. Write the story / scene.

Make sure you check out the other writers participating!

http://www.clearlykristal.com/
http://www.worldsworstmoms.com/
http://www.bulamamani.com/
http://www.susannenelson.wordpress.com/
http://www.itsadomelife.com/
http://www.debiehive.blogspot.com/
http://www.mollyfield.com/
http://neargenius1.blogspot.com/
http://the-suds-box.blogspot.ca/
http://www.quirkychrissy.com/
And make sure to visit our tweet pages at:

@clearlykristal
@worldsworstmoms
@BuLaMamaNi
@SusanneNelson1
@ItsADomeLife
@DeBieHive
@MollyFieldTweet
@Near_Genius

Fiction Friday

As Bill sat across from Sam in the elegant dining room she had so meticulously decorated and cleaned to perfection, all he could think was ‘It’ll be over soon. Couple more hours and I’ll be rid of her for good’.

“I’m leaving you Sam.  Trust me, it’s for the best and even though I know you’re hurt, I’m only doing what’s best for you.  I’ll send someone to get the rest of my things tomorrow and I’ll have my lawyer bring the divorce documents over later this week for you to sign.  Under the circumstances it would be unethical for me to prepare the divorce documents myself.  I think we should make this quick and amiable.”  Bill said as he watched his wife of 18 years stare at him and absorb everything he’d just said.

Samantha (Sam) wasn’t saying anything.  Nor was she moving, blinking, crying, or yelling…nothing.  She was just sitting there passively looking at him.  She must be in shock, Bill thought, which would explain her complete lack of response to his announcement.   She was just sitting there, staring at him.  When was she going to say something?  When was she going to scream, cry, beg for him to stay, etc etc.  He was prepared for those reactions; he knew exactly how to handle them, but this…this passive stare, this unemotional reaction was starting to unnerve.

“Are you sure you want to do that?”  Sam asked him calmly

“I’m very sure.  I’ve never been so sure about anything as much as I am sure I want this marriage to be over.”  Bill said, his temper starting to rise.

Sam simply nodded then and left the room without a word.  Finally!  She was probably going to start crying and didn’t want him to see it.  While he waited for her to return to the dining room, puffy eyed and red nosed, he took his phone out and texted Rebecca.  “It’s done.  I told her I wanted the divorce.  I shouldn’t be too much longer here.  Be there soon.”  Just as he hit the send button, Sam walked back into the room carrying her laptop, a couple file folders and her phone.  He watched as she placed everything neatly on the table and sat back down across from him.  There were no tear stains on her face, not red nose from blowing it, just a look in her eyes that he’d never seen before.

“Is she the reason you’re leaving?”  Sam removed a picture from one of the folders and slid it across the table.  It was one of Rebecca and him kissing in front of his office building downtown.  Blindsided, he didn’t say anything for a minute.  Just sat there staring at the photo.  How had she gotten this?  Had she hired a PI?  Had she’d known all along?

Seizing Bill’s momentary loss for words at being shown a photo of his infidelity, Sam plowed forward with her own prepared speech.  She’d known this day had been coming for months, years even, she was ready.  It was finally time to show him what an arrogant idiot he’d become over the last 18 years and just how much he had underestimated and taken her for granted.

“You know what Bill, you’re right.  You are doing what’s best for me by leaving.  And I completely agree that this divorce should be quick and amicable.  As a matter of fact, I have all the necessary documents right here for you to look over and sign.”  Sam opened a second file folder and slid a divorce decree across the table at him.

Mouth gaping open, Bill picked up the document and started to read through it.  With each new section his anger and bewilderment rose.  In a nutshell, Sam would get the house (paid in full), her car (paid in full), full custody of their son, a hefty amount of child support each month that he could barely afford, a frighteningly large lump sum of cash as a settlement to be paid immediately and again at the end of each year, and he would be solely responsible for all of their son’s college expenses.  Plus, he would be bound by the terms of this document with no option for revision or lowering of child support until their son turned 19.  It was official, Sam had lost her mind.  He didn’t know whether to laugh at her or just rip the document up.  He chose both.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”  Sam said crossing her arms and leaning on the table as Bill started to laugh and was poise to rip up the document.

“You’re out of your mind if you seriously think I would sign anything like this.  This is a 50/50 state my dear, you will never get anything more than that out of the courts.”  Bill said spitefully.

“I’m well aware of the state laws.  However, since you haven’t abided by the laws of this state or this country for that matter in a very long time, I felt it was only right that your divorce also not follow the letter of the law.”  Sam responded patiently.

“What are you talking about?”  Bill asked hotly. 

“Oh I think you know.  Tell me Bill, how do you think your clients would feel if they learned you had been embezzling from them for years?”  Sam asks with a small smile on her face as she watched the color drain from Bill’s.

“You’re insane?  I’ve never stolen anything in my life, let alone money from my clients.”  Bill said.  He was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable now.

“Oh Bill, I had really hoped you would have come up with a better response than that.  Come on, try again.  Come on, tell me what they will do when they find out you’ve been stealing from them.”  Sam was toying with him now, she knew it was beneath her to do so, but she couldn’t help it.  If Bill thought he was going to walk over her this time, he was sadly mistaken.

“That’s absurd!  You have nothing to prove that I’ve done anything questionable with any of my client’s money.”  He said.  Bill was getting angry now and Sam could see she was starting to upset him now.

“There you go!  That was the type of response I was looking for, even though it’s complete and total bull.”  Sam said as she opened her laptop, typed in a password and then turned the machine around to face Bill.  Then she watched his face go white.

“See, I’m pretty sure these files here prove that you’ve been a very naught boy for a very long time.”  Sam said from behind the laptop screen as she cocked her head to one side and wagged her finger at him.

“Where did you get this?”  Bill asked quietly.

“That’s not really important now is it?  What’s important now is what I’m going to do with this information.  I could send it to your clients.  Or I could send it anonymously to the police.  Or how about one of the news stations?  They love to investigate stories like this.  I bet they would have a field day picking apart your life for the cameras.”  Sam said happily.

“The way I see it you have two choices here.  You can either face the public humiliation, financial ruin and most likely jail time or you can agree to my terms in this divorce document and leave here with my promise to not expose your lying, cheating, stealing ways.”  Sam said closing the lid of the laptop and facing the man she used to love.

“So tell me Bill, which is it going to be?”  Sam asked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

This post is part of a fiction challenge I'm trying. This week's prompt was:

"Your character commits a crime. (What is the motive?) Your character's husband/wife/SO, discovers your character changing dealing with the evidence, and wants to know what's going on. Write the conversation. What happens next?"

Make sure you check out the other writers participating!

http://www.clearlykristal.com/
http://www.worldsworstmoms.com/
http://www.bulamamani.com/
http://www.susannenelson.wordpress.com/
http://www.itsadomelife.com/
http://www.debiehive.blogspot.com/
http://www.mollyfield.com/
http://neargenius1.blogspot.com/
http://the-suds-box.blogspot.ca/
http://www.quirkychrissy.com/
And make sure to visit our tweet pages at:

@clearlykristal
@worldsworstmoms
@BuLaMamaNi
@SusanneNelson1
@ItsADomeLife
@DeBieHive
@MollyFieldTweet
@Near_Genius

My Conversation with Captain Obvious

My company is big on camaraderie.  We are always having large group meetings, Town Halls, United Way events, Ice Cream Socials, etc etc.  Sometimes, these events come with required clothing.  Matching required clothing. 

The last company event involving matching shirts had to be picked up in the cafeteria one day over lunch.  One of the girls on my team was out of the office that day and asked me to pick up hers.  Sure thing, no problem.  Now, I’m not a small woman, I’m not huge, but I’m not small either.  But my co-worker…is tiny.  And when I say tiny, I mean she is 4’10” and weighs about 90 pounds soaking wet…TINY. 

So I walk up to the table and ask for a shirt in ex-small.  As I watch the girl walk towards the boxes behind the table, I make eye contact with a man standing next to me.  I smile and he says to me “You’re not a small”.  Now my first reaction to this statement was bewilderment. 

Did he really just say that?  Did he really just call me fat?  Am I really going to end up in Human Resources today because I’m about to deck this guy?

Then the look on his face registered.  He was genuinely confused.  He honestly didn’t understand why I would be asking for an ex-small shirt.  He thought he was doing me a FAVOR by pointing out the fact that I’m not a small woman.  Well thank you Captain Obvious for making sure I knew this about myself, and that was pretty much when the filter turned off between my brain and my mouth. 

Here’s how the conversation went:

Captain Obvious: “You’re not a small.”

Me:  “Really?  Are you sure?”

Captain Obvious:  “But a small isn’t going to fit you.”  (see, this is where the true social ineptitude of a genius shines through)

Me:  “Oh I don’t know. I thought I could wear it as a tube top.”

Captain Obvious:  “But how are you going to wear that?”  (sometimes it’s just too easy.)

Me:  “Well I thought maybe my dog could wear it for me.”

Captain Obvious:  “But you can’t bring a dog to work.”  (and now it just becomes sad)

Me:  “Sure I can, I have a permit.” 

And then I smile sweetly and walk away.  Leaving Captain Obvious to mull that one over for awhile.

They’re rocket scientist…not game show hosts.

 

Middle School Science Fair, Rollercoasters and Homeland Security

Last year, the science teachers at my son’s school gave everyone the same assignment for their final projects.  Build a “scaled down model of a real working rollercoaster”.  This also involved a field trip to Elitch Gardens for “inspiration”.  After spending a full day at an amusement park eating junk food, riding all the rollercoasters and throwing up, each student was suppose pick a ride to build a model of.  My son picked a Drop Tower.  Yeah, because everyone enjoys being dropped from 8 stories in the air right?

However, there were also rules.  You couldn’t use anything like Legos, Lincoln Logs, K-netcs kits, etc. etc.  You were supposed to only use things from around the house to build the rollercoaster.  Oh yeah, because I always have 6 inch wide PVC pipe lying around in my basement.  Doesn’t everyone?

Of course the Dangerous Engineering Duo missed that memo, because once they had planned out what they were going to build and how, there were then several trips to Home Depot.  You would be amazed at how many of the seemingly innocent items for sale at Home Depot can be morphed into something resembling the UFO’s you see in grainy pictures.

For the next several weeks, the Dangerous Duo started building the “working” drop tower in the garage.  Complete with a 3 foot tall piece of black PVC pipe, a soldered battery pack and a bunch of wires coming out of the top.  It looked like they were building a pipe bomb.  And of course they did this with the garage door open for all the neighbors to see, which then lead to reports of “suspicious activity” in my garage and several police vehicle drive-byes.  So the division of labor in the house for this project was:  Dad helps build the tower…Mom deals with Homeland Security.  Seems fair right?

Then we had to take it to the school.  Let me tell you, you haven’t really experienced what it’s like to live with engineers until you’ve had to take a project to the school that resembles a large pipe bomb.  When you have to explain to campus security that it’s really just a science project and the science teachers look at you and say “wow, I’ve never seen one look so authentic before”… you know you live with engineers.

After my son demonstrated his project for his final grade, it was then displayed for all the other kids and parents to “ooh and awww” over one evening.  Many of the parents are afraid of us now and one of the students looked at my husband and asked “what do YOU do for a living”? 

The police drive-byes have tampered off, but I’m still waiting for Homeland Security to knock on my door.