SJ Maylee Week 77: A Bench Out of Reach

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SJ Maylee’s’ Choice: 2

Title: A Bench Out of Reach

Jonathon kicked the gravel under his feet. It had already been seven long days since they’d taken him from Roxanne and dropped him at the opposite end of the world. The fates had offered no explanation for their interruption, something they’d always done in the past. They’d only told him to look for the bench. The change in their tactics had festered like a tick under his skin.

The bench he and Roxanne so often shared was nowhere to be found and with each passing day she slipped further and further away.

He worried about Roxanne, he could only hope they were leaving her alone, but if they changed one tactic, he wouldn’t put it past them to change another. The bastards would pay regardless. Every second without his Roxanne felt like an eternity of agonizing deaths.

The rumble of a train in front of him broke into his thoughts. He looked up and watched the passing train. One train car had its large doors wide open. There was nothing inside but a bench.

“Fuck.”

Jonathon took off. His knees pulling up higher and higher with each punishing stride. A spark ran through his legs and he felt the pull. If only he could get to the bench, they’d take him back to his heart’s desire. They’d have to do it, if only he could reach the bench. The train picked up its speed and with each second got further away. He tripped and rolled down the embankment. Stone tore into his palms and burned a stinging path to his heart.

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SJ Maylee believes hearts are meant to come together and find love. As a writer she has a tendency to break hearts, but she always glues them back together. You can follow her at @SJMaylee,

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Miranda Kate Week 76: Taken

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Miranda Kate’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: Taken

The Vaudeville looked all fuzzy and blurred as the car passed it. She knew it was where they had just been, but had trouble remembering more than just glimpses. Keeping the inane grin on her face was all she was could manage at the moment, that and the occasional fit of giggles.

The guys in the front had mentioned another party and she’d liked the idea, even if she didn’t know who they were, or where it was being held.

When they turned onto the motorway slip road she started to feel sick, and held onto the handle over the door as she watched the sign for London go by; it had to be a good hour’s drive from here.

A hand crept onto her knee and she glanced at the guy beside her, taking in his leering grin; her drunken mind only taking snapshots.

She looked out the window and wished for more alcohol to dull the realisation of her situation. Only stupid girls got into cars with strangers promising a party.

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Samantha Redstreake Geary Week 76: Greek Tragedy (Part 3 of Kore)

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Samantha Redstreake Geary’s Picture Choice: 1

Title: Greek Tragedy (Part 3 of Kore)

Zeus walks into the cafe, the air thick with fried bacon and coffee. He scans the crowd, shaking his head at the meals drowning in meaningless chatter. He spots Demeter near the window, her head bent over a stack of worn books, her hand stirring the contents of a steaming cup.

Zeus slides into the empty seat across from her. “Why do you waste your time reading that drivel?” he sighs.

Without so much as a glance, Demeter casually folds the pages on either side of the book inward, forming the shape of a heart. “I’m fond of Greek tragedies, they amuse me. This one’s about us, dear.”

“Skip the theatrics Demeter, why am I here?” Zeus asks, pinning an unsuspecting waiter with a disapproving glare.

“It’s the best coffee house in Nashville,” Demeter banters, “You’ll need a clear head if you’re to meet my demands before your precious mortals slowly starve to death.”

“If you’re referring to my brother’s recent domestic dispute with your conniving daughter, I can’t say it’s any of my business.” Zeus rises from his chair.

Demeter seizes his wrist. “OUR daughter is being hunted by your barbaric brother’s wretched beast!” she cries. “Kore could be killed by Aides’ pride and you’re just going to sit back and do nothing?”

If he intervened, Zeus would incur Aides wrath. If he sat idly by, Demeter would make good on her threat and destroy mankind’s prime sustenance.

Zeus concedes with a sharp nod, inwardly cursing Aides.

“Good,” Demeter grins, “You’re buying me coffee.”

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Pablo Michaels Week 76: Missing Companion

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Pablo Michael’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: Missing Companion

Absent of a companion, Scott allowed his soul to transport into depression. After staring at the room without the gut level importance for the necessary arrangement of the furniture, he removed everything except the table and one chair.

“This used to symbolize something, Timothy,” his voice echoed, absent of an audience. “Could you remind me what it all meant? “Why did we bother having six chairs?”

Scott’s thoughts drifted into the prevailing silence in the dim light.

“You’re right, Timothy. You suggested surrounding the table with six chairs. One for me and five for each man I loved. Michelangelo said he never loved me when he returned from that last business trip. You understood how his words had devastated me. And the second was for John, the one who snooped behind my back, trying to use my past for his own gain. He secretly studied my medical file for his research. Then, the third chair was for Phil who juggled our relationship with two other men. He humiliated me the most. I had given him all of me, but it wasn’t enough. I never understood why I wasn’t enough. And then how I waited for David to grow up until his life expired with AIDS. My unending devotion had exhausted my search for another chance to love. But then you dropped into my life like a fresh spring breeze fragrant with Hyacinth blossoms. I never told you how the gods informed me you were weeping for my former pains. I’m sorry. I would try having chairs for both of us, but I can’t have the fifth, your chair, around the table too. Even though you were the only one who loved me. The gods told me your heart was taken from both of us because you were tired. I can forget my grief for the other four, but my sorrow from the loss of your beautiful eyes, where I could gaze beyond and see us growing day after day. Losing your friendly smile and hilarious humor that made me happy would be more than I could bear. I will love you as long as I continue to breath. Your presence is within me, guiding me to that day when I join you.”

Scott gazed through the window at the sunny patio.

“Come Timothy. Let’s go outside where it’s warm. I will recant all our days we had. No? Yes, I forgot your time capsule. I’ll sit and read what you left.”

Content to reminisce the times he had with Timothy, Scott opened the round cylinder on the tabletop, studying the worldly items his missing companion left.

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Pablo Michaels writes LGBT fiction and has published with Naughty Nights Press, http://naughtynightspress.blogspot.com You can follow him at @bell2mike

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Samantha Lee Week 76: Vacation

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Samantha Lee’s Picture Choice: Both

Title: Vacation

Vacation. It was a novel concept. I'd never had one before; running around trying to hide from a crazy stepmother hardly counts as rest and relaxation and I'm fairly certain that's the cornerstone of this whole vacation thing. What would I do with nothing but time on my hands? Gods, the concept boggled my mind.

Before my Da died, my time was always very carefully planned and accounted for. Every minute, every second had a preassigned purpose; a specific place I had to be, a specific activity I had to do, a specific person I needed to see. It was very organized.

After my Da died, I spent a lot of time trapped in a place I didn't want to be. It was small and dark and I only ever had one visitor; a lithe, double-jointed male who smelled of poppies, reminded me of a scarecrow, and was much too fond of hearing me scream. When my wraiths tore him apart I was far from upset over his passing.

With freedom came running. I ran and I hid, scurrying all over the world, going from hole to hole like a mouse who knows there are predators on her tail. It let me see a lot of places - I even had my own private island for a few decades - but I think the constant paranoia and inability to feel safe may have cancelled out the vacation classification.

But nowadays was different. I'd regained my title, my home, my wealth. I had my friends, my family, my felines. I was happy and in love and life was pretty much as perfect as it could get. Most important of all, I had someone I trusted who I could leave my responsibilities with for a time and not worry about being betrayed.

So, this time, finally, I was on vacation. An actual, honest-to-gods, can't-deny-it vacation. There was one of those tropical huts set back among the trees and there was a beach with a roaring tide. Several of my cats prowled around and my hyena (don't give me that look - genetically, they're closer to cats than dogs) was chasing something I'd rather not think too intently about along the shoreline. I was sitting in a lounge chair, wearing a silver bikini, soaking in the rays.

"Are you happy?" Tru asked. He was sitting in his own lounge chair a few feet away from mine. Unsurprisingly, he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, although to give credit where it's due his feet were bare. He'd been working so hard trying to make our vacation perfect; he'd even gone so far as to try his hand at those coconut drinks with the umbrellas. It was a disaster but it was still sweet of him to try.

I rolled up to my feet and sauntered over to straddle his hips. Bracing one hand on the back of his chair, I leaned close, my hair falling forward to veil us both in our own little world. I smiled. "I'm beyond happy; you plan one hell of a vacation, lover mine."

His lips jerked upwards in a sardonic grin and he nodded once. "Good."

I shifted position so I could lay my head on his chest, my ear over his heart so I could listen to its slow, steady beat. Somewhere my family was stirring up drama and my people were inciting disasters and my enemies were plotting my demise. Somewhere there were humans forming cults to burn me at the stake and others erecting temples devoted to my worship. Somewhere there were hunters hunting me, assassins studying me, an collectors coveting me.

I have a seriously messed up life.

But right then, right there, at that moment, I had my pets, I had beautiful surroundings, and I had Tru's embrace. I couldn't imagine a paradise more perfect than that.

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Lizzie Koch Week 76: House For Sale

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Lizzie Koch’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: House For Sale

Gale stood at the top window, the nets billowing around him as he watched the couple outside in his garden. They seemed more interested than most; it was their second viewing and their excitement tangible, even in the garden that had seen better days. He watched intently as the couple stood on the patio, his heart thumping hard inside his chest, his voice catching in the back of his throat as silence drifted from his lips.

“Do you think think they're going to buy it?” Mia asked, joining Gale by the window. She liked this couple. They reminded her of when she first looked at the house, wanting it instantly, feeling it was right. A second viewing was a good sign and the estate agent didn't seem to be overworking it or trying the hard sell which was the best sign of all.

“We'll see. I don't want to think about it and what it could mean for us.” He returned a warm smile to Mia and squeezed her hand as the couple wandered back into the house.

From the stairs, Gale watched as the man stood at the French doors, looking at the garden. It was an oasis within the city and Gale remembered many a summer eve sitting out on the patio with a beer in hand chatting with Mia after dining alfresco. But now was the time for others to enjoy the garden and the house like he had. He and Mia needed to move on and hopefully now was the time.

“So,” began the man, turning to face the estate agent, “you said we can move in straight away and all furnishings come with the price?”

“Yep, no chain, just a straight forward sale. 10K has already been knocked off the price so it really is a good deal to be snapped up right away.” The man turned to face the garden again. Gale watched him, his interest piqued by the man's fascination with the garden.

“I think he's going to free us from this place Mia, I really do,” Gale whispered. He continued to watch the couple as they whispered amongst themselves, looking at each other intently then towards the garden.

It seemed an eternity before the man turned to the smiling estate agent, “we'll take it,” he stated firmly, a broad smile spreading across his face. “I'm sure we can make this place a home again.”

“Indeed you can,” the estate agent said eagerly, shaking his hand firmly. “I'll start the ball rolling.” He left the couple, walking out to the hallway, mobile phone already at his ear.

“I know this house has a history Deb's but the location, the price, I just feel so at home here and comfortable.”

“Me too,” she replied., drawn to the garden with her gaze.

“The garden is beautiful Deb's but I don't like the patio. I'm thinking of ripping it up, decking the area and landscaping the rest.”

Gale and Mia knowingly looked towards each other, hope creeping in to their hearts that they could really be moving and leaving this house behind. It was a happy home once upon a time and would be once again.

“Right, “ the estate agent said, “in six weeks then, this should be yours with no hiccups on the mortgage front. And you'll have a nice bit left over no doubt for some home repairs, really put your stamp on the place.”

“Yeah, Mark wants to start on the garden first,” Deb's replied.

“Good, yes, well, right, I'm sure the neighbours are going to be thrilled have the place full of life again. Put all the nastiness behind them and this house.”

“You said the couple disappeared? What's nasty about that?” the man asked.

“Well, the police have suggested foul play.”

“But there's no evidence of that is there?” he said, glancing to the patio.

“Well no bodies if that's what you mean.”

“Oh my gosh Gale,” Mia exclaimed, “he knows. We're going to be free.”

“I knew he was going to be the one Mia, I could feel it. He'll do as he said; dig up the patio, find us there and we'll be free.” He kissed her softly before they both drifted up the staircase to their bedroom, over looking their resting place in the garden.

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I dream of sharing my work with the big wide world one day as a published author. Right now, I share flash fiction with a wonderful community of writers and friends. If you liked this story, then why not visit my blog at http://40somethingundomesticateddevil.blogspot.co.uk/ for more. Thank you. Love Lizzie x

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Ruth Long Week 75: Haunted

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Ruth Long’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: Haunted

though my mouth may
still be peach-sweet
it is no longer silent
but flung wide open
like pandora's box
letting the secret evils
of your dark heart
out into the light

out, out damned spot
get out and get into
the hell of your own making
to meet your master
flame-licked Lucifer
and find in me
the hound of hell
as fearsome a gatekeeper
as ever licked her chops
or gnashed her teeth


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