Frustrated at not being able to get into the chipmunk’s hole, the bobcat sniffed around founding a “secret” entrance underneath a log. She could worm her way into the chipmunk’s den. Dinner’s ready!
Posts tagged Trifecta
Overcoming Frustration
Frustrated that the prompt word didn’t inspire her, Alice erased her Trifecta entry once again. The funk had now set in. As she gave up, the suddenly realized that she has achieved her goal.
Your Obituary
The dark, cold, loneliness of rejection still fills my soul. A part of me will always be dead. Over thirty years later, reading your obituary still brought tears of rejection to my eyes.
The End of the Game
He sat silently on the bench, eyes closed, fist clenched. “How could he let her manipulate him like that?”
Crowds of shoppers hurried by, bracing against the winter wind, hurrying to some warmer place. He didn’t notice the cold or the shoppers, his world had been shattered. He felt nothing.
She was waiting in the check-in line at the airport, visions of the tropics in her eyes. Her Mastercard was filled with the money he had given her, supposedly to pay for reservations and the honeymoon.
She smiled, perhaps sneered would be a better term. The fourth desperate man she had done this too. Men were just so vulnerable and stupid when they thought a beauty such as Allona actually wanted to marry them.
Joseph walked back to his apartment, took his gun from the desk and twirled the barrel. He felt like such a fool. Could he even face his co-workers again?
Allona, as she called herself this time, boarded the plane and took off for Cancun where she would enjoy a week in he sun, perhaps meet her next victim, maybe even change her name again. Once she had perfected the scheme, it seemed so simple. She would “play” them a while, until it got boring and then manipulate them into asking her to marry them. How nice of her to take care of all the details if they would just give her the funds.
Joseph put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. Just as Allona emerged from the plane. The policia were waiting when she got to the hotel. She would not ruin another man’s life.
Happy Daze
Has it been 50 years since I sat at that table at the grill downtown, quietly pretending to do my homework and drink my milkshake when all I could think about was you?My Heart Melts for You!
She waited quietly behind the fence for the plane to land. Six long months since she saw him leave for Korea with his Army Unit. Tears were rolling down her face, landing on her very pregnant belly. As each plane landed, she felt her heart sink.
Finally, his plane landed and pulled up to the entryway. She waited, her heart pounding, to see his face. He ran out, smiling and felt his heart melt as he looked at his wife carrying the child that he would soon hold. Home. Her. That baby girl. What could be better than that?
What Matters Most
They hadn’t seen the little stream flooded like that in decades! Eight-year-old Johnny brought his little brother out to the edge of the stream to see the roaring of the muddy water.
“Wow!” shouted little Bobby, as he gazed at the roaring stream . “What happened?” Bobby’s little face gazed at the boiling, debris-filled water.
“It’s a flood,” Johnny explained, walking down the edge of the creek, observing the shaking of the shrubs being torn from the banks, as they slid away as the water overpowered the banks, now slick and muddy from the power of the rumbling water.
Suddenly, Bobby broke away and ran down to the edge of the bridge.
“Bobby, come back, the bank might collapse!” Johnny cried.
“No! He cried. The bank was sliding away, carrying Bobby with it.
With his last bit of strength, Johnny grabbed Bobby’s’ belt as he clung to a bush with his other hand. He plucked his little brother from the deluge, carrying him back to the trailer on the hillside where they lived.
“Oh my God!” cried their mother as she ran down the rotting steps. “What in the world happened.”
Tears were running down Johnny’s face as his mom held Bobby tightly in her arms. Johnny was lost for words, all he could say as he sat breathlessly on the steps was, “The bank collapsed, I couldn’t get him!”
“No, baby, their mom smiled, you DID get him, you are the bravest boy I know!”
They were all crying now, dirty and cold as they sat there watching the rushing water carry away the bush that Johnny had been holding onto.
Suddenly, nothing else mattered, the rusted trailer, the old red truck, daddy loosing his job. They had each other. Mother carried little Bobby in to his father, as he sat with his head down on the tattered couch.
For the first time in weeks, Daddy smiled. He knew everything would be alright.
A Night to Remember ( Erotic Prompt)
I dig deep into my soul to remember
what it was like to feel your arousal
for that first delicious time-the desperate need inside me.
Forbidden places I can go as I sleep, real for now,
I let myself become lost in desire.
Without those moments, I think I would die.
Perhaps you are real, we may have never met,
I think of your silky shirt, my hands unbuttoning…
Your hands exploring the depths of my dress.
Letting go, if only for a while, magically erasing
everything, everyone, but you and I and passion.
OhMyGod, I am melting, yet frozen in the heat.
It is though time has stopped, suddenly, we lie, exploring,
hot breath on the chill of intensity,
one body, one soul, one purpose-pleasure, escape.
In the dark, I explore you with my fingers,
my curls winding around your face,
the coarseness of your beard making me shiver.
Within my soul I know, I KNOW
this moment will live forever, a rush of erotic fervor
I will close my eyes and you’re there-stay,stay…
There is nothing but swelter between us.
We glide to ecstasy completely, unbelievably, perfectly.
Just for now, we own our world, we rule our souls.
Years from now, this night will live within me.
The knowledge that I can let go, live, trust, believe
You and I know each other-close our eyes and dream.
To be there once is heaven, to return is magic.
Finding a space that transcends words, time, the ages,
Your touch and mine intertwined, for this night, forever…
The Meaning of the Word
The sprinkling of soft snow through ancient pines-remember?
The ice sparkling on the lake like mirrored glass-remember?
Your gloved hand touching mine for the time-remember?
Those days seem so close, as if I could reach out and touch them, yet my heart knows that time has passed and life has changed, you are there and I am here, We were young and now are old. Still, somehow, that day, that place that touch will remain with me forever. It truly defines the word-remember.
Amidst the London Fog
Young John was quite angry with his brother’s room-mate for pulling such a childish prank on him over a simple remark made in an ale house during the past weekend.
It would seem that someone who had attained a degree in philosophy and was working on his Master’s would have more maturity, especially with his career in the higher echelons of the English Court in jeopardy.
The question was, as John saw it, what his response to the forged letter addressed to and published in the London Newspaper should be.
His anger was definitely interfering with his common sense. After all, many people who read the article which proclaimed him to hold unpopular and possibly damaging political views, would believe the he had, indeed, written it, and held to the views it projected.
What could he do? “Rather,” he sighed, “what SHOULD he do?
With much thought and craft on his part, John decided to make use of the newspaper to get back at George’s room-mate, just as the newspaper had been used against him.
John, an excellent artist, made sure that the comic of the culprit was shown with him clearly writing up the fake letter, while dressed in the outfit of a jester, just different enough in character so as not to project slander. He proceeded in requesting that it be published on a Sunday, when many readers would see it.
John would come out looking bright and intelligent while his nemesis would look like an utter fool.
John smiled as he licked the envelope, stepped out the door in his long black coat and made his way to the Newspaper office, in the thick London mist.
On his way out of the newspaper office, he stopped to buy a newspaper from a young man who was hawking the latest edition with a loud call, “Graduate student found dead in his quarters!”
John placed the coins in the lads hand and opened up the paper to the front page. With horror, he discovered that the dead man was his brother’s room mate and realized that his letter might make him look guilty of committing murder, or at least some sort of involvement in the tragedy. He hurried back to the desk where he had dropped off his letter and was able to retrieve it just as a clerk approached in order to collect the latest contents of the “in” box.
John breathed a sigh of relief as he tore up the letter and threw it into a barrel filled with flames surrounded by a group of vagrants, warming themselves against the cold mist. He shivered as he thought of how the nature of his act of craft had nearly propelling him into the justice system when he had done nothing at all.
Indeed, his speed and quick wit in retrieving and destroying the comic and accompanying letter had been the better craft, after all.
beebeesworld 