Fiction: As Siblings Do #amwriting #fiction #shortstory


Here’s another piece from my writing course, edited from the original.


Credit: Greg Raines via Unsplash


Jordan revs his motorcycle for the third time. He drops his helmet, running fingers through his hair. His motorcycles’ roar and grumble soothe him, as he taps his fingers against the handles, waiting for Jessica to hurry up and get her ass out the door.

The door slams and Jessica fumbles her keys, locking the front door. He rolls his eyes as she teeters down the sidewalk in red stilettos.

“You’re so stupid, Jessica. You need to wear descent boots on a motorcycle, or those heels are gonna grind off on the road.”

She punches his arm. “Screw off. I can wear what I want. Mom said you have to give me a ride to class on Thursdays, for as long as you’re living at home again.” Jessica eases a helmet over her hair. “I hate wearing helmets on this thing; it ruins my hair.”

Jordan plunks his on, revving the motorcycle to drown Jessica’s whining. He slips on leather gloves and zips down the street, off onto the freeway and towards his sister’s university.

She’s still talking to him, but he can’t hear her. He grins as her shrill voice fades. Despite her shouting and poking his side, he makes the ride to her school as jerky and frightening as possible.

At the university’s fine arts building, he pulls into a tight parking space, removing his helmet. Jessica takes hers off, hair flying from static. She scoffs.

He peers back at his dyed-blonde dunce of a sister. “You need to wear a helmet, Jessica, because I drive fast. Your head could crack open like a watermelon.”

She screws up her face, prepared to yell, but he cuts her off. “I have a job I need to be back for on time. I can run out and pick you up, but you need be ready, Fluffs.”

She attempts to smack him, but he catches her hand. “I wouldn’t if I were you. If you still want rides, keep your hands to yourself. You can do your makeup and hair at school too.”

Jessica hops off the motor cycle, placing her hand on his shoulder, digging her almond pointed fingernails into the base of his neck. Jordan swears as she balances on her stilettos.

“Don’t call me Fluffs, *sshole. I hate that nickname.”

“I’ll call you what I want. Fluff is all your heads made out of and why you’re getting a BA in Fine Arts, not a useful degree.” He throws his sister’s Kate Spade at her.

Surprising him, she catches it. “I’m an artist. Stop being such a prick, Jordan. It’s what I’m good at. My brain has more creative juice than yours will ever have.”

She pushes him hard, and his motorcycle tips. He catches it. “Grow up, Fluffs.”

It wouldn’t surprise him if she fell over and cracked her skull from wearing those whore-red stilettos. Shaking his head, Jordan speeds to work.

His divorce was through, and he needed to find a new place. Jordan was tired of dealing with Jessica. Like his ex-wife, she was a spoiled princess.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Saturday Mix: Fiction – Riding The Wave #amwriting #fiction #saturdaymix 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday’s Mix 100 Word Challenge. 

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Credit: GSK 17

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We’re balancing on the train tracks, walking them carefully with our arms held out like acrobats. The tracks start to rattle, at first minutely, but gradually the rattle increases as we hear the train nearing. 

Remaining as long as we can, we walk and balance, challenging ourselves and testing the fates. When the train whistles loudly, we step off. The tracks are clanking and clambering, as if the bolts holding them down might come free. 

The beast approaches and with it comes the wind from the train’s speed and the smoke from the coal fed engine. We stand as close as we can, without it hitting us. 

It’s an electric and deadly thrill when the train rushes past and we’re not even grazed. We don’t fall back, we ride the wave between life and death as it passes. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Alouette – “A Scare” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo prompt:

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Credit: Natalie Deprina

—–

She’s only twelve, bright —

The only girl separate from,

Her brothers four.

Parents her adore,

Their last child, girl comes, 

For Mom she’s a sight.

—-

A surprise one spring;

Thought there’d be no more kids born.

They so much wanted,

Girl so undaunted;

By elder brothers‘ scorn.

Bird fluttering wings.

—–

She laughs so cheery,

Going about her day, she’s teased

By family with love. 

Animals adore, 

She’s the darling who pleases,

Makes life less dreary.

—-

Out feeding horses, 

Then, rides with such glee calling,

Her dogs following. 

Danger in shallows, 

Ocean so near, tumbles, falls;

Swims smart, resourceful!

—–

Into warm arms pulled,

Mom near lost her dear, her pearl.

Dad is so wrathful, 

She wasn’t thoughtful

And where were her brothers? She —

Was grounded some. 

—–

Didn’t think enough;

She’s safe, all is well, she’s hugged,

Held close by her Mom,

Told, “Be careful hon!”

You’d be missed, you’re much loved.

Mom again gives hug.

—–

She’s happy again. 

Learned she’s human, as others. 

Preteens can die too.

Better to ride through —

Ocean waves, with friends, brothers. 

So life it remains

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Poem – Day 15 – Free Verse – “Where Car Rides Lead” #poetry #writing #amwriting #music 


Today’s song prompt is “Midnight City” by M83.

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“Midnight City” – M83

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Credit: http://www.8tracks.com

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To where do car rides lead? 

Wherever we may go. 

Let’s ride the night out, 

Let the city lights glow, 

Wrap us in their electronic warmth. 

—-

To where do car rides lead? 

Any direction you may go. 

Don’t sit and wait, 

Put your foot on the break, 

Start the car let’s go. 

—–

To where do car rides lead? 

Adventures waiting to be towed, 

Come along as the lights gleam, 

The city is ours, 

Our time, our night, to explore.

——

To where do car rides lead? 

Neon signs, the horizon beams, 

Driving all night, 

No where to go, our journey —

In this broken church, our city.

—–

To where do car rides go? 

They lead us to flickering dreams.

——-

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

A Tale of Best and Worst Times


Prompt:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” – Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

When was the last time this quote accurately described your life?

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when this statement was true for me. There are a few times in my life when I could describe times as being both the best and worst but I believe the most recent time has been the last six years of my life as a whole.

These six years have been the worst of times because I have been battling with a depressive mood disorder and likely Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The way these diseases have limited my life seem unbelievable to me. I had to give up driving because I cannot pay attention very well and do not have the reflexes I once did. Someday I hope I can just drive to the grocery store or Shoppers Drug Mart and back but that someday isn’t right now.

I use to be an extremely social person and was very close to my friends. Now I feel because of my disease that gap has widened. Partly because I can attend so few events. Night is a difficult time for me so I often can’t go out that late and transportation and money are always an issue because I often do not have money to take a cab both ways or to bus because of energy. I can bus one way in the day usually but I’m just less alert and more fatigued during the night.

Chronic fatigue has also made it impossible for me to exercise at a level where I can lose weight put on from medications and inactivity. I love exercise, I have for a very long time but my body wears out quickly even during 20 minutes of yoga and cardio usually just makes me sick to my stomach and completely wears me out for the rest of the day, especially lately. It is a symptom of CF Syndrome.

Another big issue is that I can usually only concentrate for a couple hours at a time and when I go out I use to be able to do about 4-5 hours but now 3 is all I can handle. Then I go home so exhausted I have to crawl into bed and just sleep for hours, sometimes days. I have malais, which means after a big activity I require often a day or two of recovery time.

Those are the worst of times for me but despite my illness there have been some good times as well. There have been vacations with my Mom and Dad and/or brother to Las Vegas, Anaheim, Phoenix, and Montreal. All of which, despite becoming exhausted by mid-afternoon I have enjoyed so much and have fought to rest up in time at night for dinner and shows.

I have found out who my real friends are because they are the one’s who have stuck by me through thick and through thin. They were there to visit me in the hospital when I was first sick and they are here now with a ride, to share some coffee or wine with, and to invite me out and hang out when we have the time in our busy lives. They understand I need time to rest and cannot make it to every event and they can tell when I have had enough when I’m out with them.

I met my boyfriend A through a dating website called Plenty of Fish. Our first date we went for coffee at the 2nd Cup and went to the movie 21 Jump Street downtown. He has been my guy since and despite the fact we fight and get really mad at each other at times we have been together over three years. At first I was too sick for the first three years of my illness to consider boyfriends but when the time came that I was interested in guys again, he was there.

I have become so much closer to my family both my parents and brothers, and my grandparents, godparents, and extended family. I have learnt that I can rely on them and that we can take care of each other. I have rediscovered religion and the place that has in my life. My illness began with a psychotic episode in which I was so afraid I was separated from God and experiencing Hell. So, I’m grateful to be able to say I truly believe in God and his son Jesus and have no desire to be a part from them but to share them with others who want that. I have learnt not to be so selfish but to talk to others whether they are strangers who just need a smile or friends who I have not seen in ages.

This is why the past 6 years have been the best years of my life. And I think If I’m truthful, the best of times would not be the best without having those bad times.