Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday August 9, 2017.
Lacey shook out her golden hair. Deborah eyed her daughter,” We’re here Lacey, this is where you’ll find out your vocation.”
“But I don’t even know what I’ll wear tomorrow. I’m not even sixteen.”
“The judges decide. Since long ago, each consecutive group of them provides citizens with the right jobs.”
” I’ve many interests. Not one.”
“Life isn’t fair, Lacey.”
Deborah smoothed her skirt down three times.”They don’t know your thoughts. But the rigorous testing you’ve done, your DNA, genetic lineage, your social interactions, and other scientific data guides the Judges.”
“But you said they don’t know my thoughts?”
“They’re not going to ask for your opinion. They know.”
“That’s the problem, Mom. There’s more than ‘knowing.’ There’s that feeling that tells you your purpose deep down.”
“They Judges don’t consider feelings or emotions. They don’t see people beyond their job skills.”
Deborah shushed Lacey. Her hands trembled. “Whatever they say, Lacey, that’s your vocation.”
“Outcasts don’t last long, your father’s one and that life’s harsh. They’ll watch out for that ‘rebellious spirit’ in you.”
“I can’t keep my true-self masked. I’ll be miserable.”
“No one’s happy here,” Deborah whispered.
But Lacey didn’t hear her. Deborah watched her daughter ascend the ancient silver staircase and knew her daughter would be searching for her father soon.
Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday!
Everything had to be perfect. Kayla didn’t want this to be a one time affair. It was 1:00 p.m., and Tye had awoken hearing noises in Kayla’s kitchen.
He lumbered in, taking a seat at the island where Kayla had prepared a tray with ‘hair of the dog.’
“Morning Tye, you probably have a killer hang over at your age,” Kayla teased.
Tye drank both drinks from the tray. “Feeling much better now. Where’s your brother? Did he crash here too?”
“We, no Tye, it was just us. Christian stayed at Mimi’s last night.”
“He’s a lucky guy. Mimi’s a fine woman.”
Kayla frowned, “What about last night? Aren’t you a ‘lucky guy’ too, Tye?”
“What about it?”
“Does it mean anything to you? You told me you loved me.”
Tye was silent, “From the moment I saw you in that short black dress . . . I don’t remember much. I drank a lot. It can’t mean anything, Kayla, even if I’ve always had a thing for you. You’re Christian’s sister, he’d kill me.”
“Not if you actually loved me. If you felt the way I feel about you.”
“Doesn’t matter –”
“It does matter because I’m twenty eight-years old, a grown woman. If last night meant nothing, just say it. Because I’m damn sure you’re lying when you say you don’t remember.”
Tye rubbed his face his eyes dazed. He lumbered back to the bedroom and began dressing.
He wouldn’t look at her and Kayla confronted him, catching him off guard. She pushed him hard and kept pushing, attempting to get a reaction from Tye when he grabbed both her hands holding her still.
“I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. You may have not loved me then, but I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since I turned twenty-five. You like me a lot and you know it,” Kayla cried.
She struggled, but Kye wouldn’t let go of her hands. He pressed his lips to hers, brushing them back and forth before pulling back. “This can’t happen again, Kayla. You know that, I’m engaged.”
” Lisa doesn’t love you. You don’t owe that harpy anything.”
“I do owe it to her, we’ve been together five years.”
Tyler brushed his thumb against her lips and let go of Kayla. He left her bedroom to put on his dress shoes at the front door. “I wish I could be with you. But Lisa’s pregnant. If I don’t marry her she’ll never let me see my daughter, ever.”
Kayla blanched. She tried not to burst into a crying jag as she held her throat feeling her breath constrict. She gazed at Tye, “Please tell me I wasn’t just some girl you slept with.”
“I wasn’t that drunk, Kayla. I lied. Last night meant the world, but that’s why we have to both forget it.”
The door shutting echoed long after Tye left. Tears dripped down her cheeks as Kayla sat on the floor, a ferocious pain eating her alive inside as she wept.
Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting the current #100WordWednesday. My apologies this week a hundred words turned into a few hundred that could not be cut.
The balmy August air, humid and filled with scent of sand and the lake was a smell I would never forget. Years later, I’d be sitting on my chair in the nursing home and that peculiar fragrance mixed with your cologne would suddenly take me back.
I was leaning against the ice cream stand, watching various kids play in the lake. The line up for ice cream had been long but I wasn’t picky about my ice cream flavor — anything chocolate would do. The server presented me with a gigantic three-scoop ice cream cone but had no idea how I’d eat it all. The server told me that the gentleman behind me had paid for it, but gazing back I had no idea which guy he meant.
Then, I went and I hid ( where I am now) behind the ice cream stand. That’s when the scent of sea and sand, and of sunscreen was heightened by the somehow familiar scent of your subtle cologne, citrusy and woodsy, mixed with the fragrances of the beach. It was a heavenly and sexy scent. It even overwhelmed the taste of the chocolate ice cream. My eyes closed inhaling your forever scent.
Minutes later, I opened them and you were there, leaning against the building beside me. Sharp indigo eyes and all smooth muscles and toned arms that were lightly tanned. You were devouring a three-scoop cone of Tiger ice cream as you stood watching me, reaching out only to wipe the melted chocolate away from dribbling down my hand. Even then, you were always gentle.
But I felt your touch through the napkin, saw the light stubble on your cheeks and your full lips as you come close for a moment. Your divine cologne mingling with the smells of the lake, made my legs weak and you knew it too. There was laughter in your deep-blue eyes.
“I can’t eat anymore of this you know?” I said looking dubiously at the half melted cone.
You chuckled, still staring at me,”It’s okay, but you’ve got some chocolate here,” you said wiping it off the corner of my lips with your thumb.
I could hardly breath. The memory, the feelings, they were so intense. I wanted to be anywhere else but on the beach at that moment. I wanted to be somewhere private with you.
It was a dreamlike memory, but this dream had once been our reality — our meet-cute. Later as we chatted I recalled you stroking my arms with a feather soft touch. You threw my melted icecream away, tangling your hands in my long hair. Bending down your lips meant mine, again and again. Intoxicated I devoured your scent comingled with the beach, the water, and the taste of your mouth.
I missed you still.
Hours later, I was awake in my chair in my room at the nursing home. I wondered if on the otherside you’d be there to meet me soon. If that same scent that made my knees weak so long ago, could be felt again as you you would smile with warm bedroom eyes and gentle concern. I hoped you and I could be together again in the celestial here-after as we had once been in life; friends and lovers both.
Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.
We live along the river in delapitated shanties. At sunrise we sleepily pull on our rubber boots and checked flannel shirts. It’s late fall and the days are chillier. It doesn’t mean we can’t fish, but the joy of a temperate summer is a distant memory. Gone are the laughter filled nights of plentiful fish, drinking rice wine until midnight.
Harsh temperatures have arrived. Our mornings are early so we can chase the waning light. Evening arrives and the catch is not terrible but not plentiful. The fish at this time of year are wiggly and stronger.
I shiver in the morning light, winter’s stinging winds drawing near. Soon the river will be coated with ice. Then, all we can do is drill a hole and hope for something to bite — anything.