The New Guy

Genre: Drama?

He was coming over the first time. She baked pasta, set the table, put out the wine glasses, remembered his alcoholic past and put them away.

………………………

He dressed in his best shirt, put cologne, checked his breath, stepped out of the house, went back in, took a gulp of vodka and got out again. She had invited him over the first time.

………………………

She smelled alcohol when he kissed her, insisted on taking the food to the porch. He blabbered all evening; every move exaggerated. She stared at the lanterns on the table, mulling if it would come to that.

…………………………………………

99 words for Friday Fictioneers this week.

For the uninitiated, in case you are wondering what is going on here, read on. Friday Fictioneers is an excellent forum for people looking to have fun as they learn the nuances of writing. Every Friday a bunch of us write 100 words (no hard rules there) for prompts posted by Rochelle who runs the show.

This week’s photo prompt comes from Rochelle herself:

A quicker way of reading more stories:


Trace

“We need to take a Lean Trace across to assess the system performance; right now it looks like we are making too many expensive hits on the database.”

Trace…

And my heart wanders again. It’s almost a year since I last saw her, almost a year since I met her the first time. I have lost count of how often I have thought of her since. It’s not just the pretext of a dragging work meeting that took me to her today, I have thought of her on happy days, busy days, days nothing was going right. My mind doesn’t need a reason to surge past the immediate, down the dusty memory lanes and alleys to see her again, to feel her like I felt her that day.

I just need to close my eyes and she is wrapped in my arms like that day – her warm cuddle spreading through my body, her nails digging in my shoulders, I taking in her slow and rhythmic musky breath, staring in her eyes…  those big black emeralds looking at me with complete understanding. It seemed like I knew her since eternity, like she knew me the way no one else ever did or would.

I would never see her again perhaps, I could ask around but I could never be sure. But it’s alright, as in a place no one can touch or mar, I meet her every other day. She is still the scared babe who clung to me like her life depended on it. I still see her staring at me, reassuring me. I will never forget that, even if Trace never remembers.

……………………………

As is self evident, Trace was a 2 month old female Koala I hugged at Lone Pines Sanctuary in Brisbane last year. She was so adorable that I miss her almost every day! I wish I could rewind and replay that moment over and over again!

Few pictures of me and Trace:

IMG_0084
Introduction
Encounter
Encounter
Farewell
Farewell

A Closet Love Story

Genre: RomCom, Drama (I guess)

I bought it from a scrap dealer and we built it together. Steve and I…

Steve, my Stevie… He told me he was ready to come out in the open…

Stevie promised while I stared into his hazel green eyes.

Stevie drove while I dreamed of us together.

Stevie lied while I paid his bills.

I saw him with a woman last night. He looked through me.

I ripped the board we had so lovingly put next to the driver’s seat – more women revealed themselves. Women! Liar.

Liar… LIAR! I know he loves me, the coward.

……………………………

96 words for Friday Fictioneers this week.

For the uninitiated, in case you are wondering what is going on here, read on. Friday Fictioneers is an excellent forum for people looking to have fun as they learn the nuances of writing. Every Friday a bunch of us write 100 words (no hard rules there) for prompts posted by Rochelle who runs the show.

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Beth Carter. I just love this prompt. I can’t tell enough how much. I had so many ideas looking at it, I will keep thinking about it for a long time!

The Prompt:

Copyright – Beth Carter

My story this week is as inspired by the prompt as it is (strangely) by the following song:

Quicker way to reach other stories: