Sunday Photo Fiction: The Creep #fiction #amwriting


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting the February 11th, 2018 Edition of SPF. This is a bit of a longer piece. Written for a writer’s course, around 500 Words as opposed to 200 Words or less. I cleaned it up and changed the original a bit.


Credit: J. Carol Hardy


Charlene twists her hair. The potent drink on the bar is her fifth tequila shot in an hour. The hazy, dreamlike atmosphere in the crowded town bar confuses her. Most of the crowd puff away, smoke lingering in the air, twisting above her, a toxic dragon of cigarette stench.

An attractive singer who isn’t local, belts out tunes while strumming his guitar. His catchy music has Charlene humming, her fingers tapping to the rhythm.

When he plays a soft song, the crowd boos. Some men throw beer bottles that smash and scatter glass against the small stage’s back wall. The singer peers around the room, his eyes darting back and forth. A bouncer drags away one of the offenders and the singer resumes his music, belting out cheerful tunes once more.

Charlene chuckles. As per usual, the town bar echoes with boisterous laughter and harmless drunks telling tale tales. Then, the creep beside her, pokes her arm. “Drink it, drink the shot.”

She peers up at him and his putrid breath makes her sick. “I don’t want it. Go away.” He leers and Charlene shivers.

She turns, stumbles towards the cracked vinyl booth where her coat and purse lay. Grabbing them she fumbles, zipping up her coat. The creep follows her and pinches her chin, trying to pour the shot into her mouth.

Warm tequila dribbles from her lips, acrid as she chokes. “No more, I don’t want anymore.” She cuts off his words, the poison of the creep’s lizard-tongue. “I’m going home — alone.”

Charlene teeters, leaning against the worn bar. She presses her hands against the humid backs of people waiting to buy more drinks. In open places, she leans on the bar, tracing it’s antique carvings, the dents on its worn surface. Jerry, one of the bartenders, slides her a glass of water. She nods at him, and swallows, her throat aching.

Past the bar, Charlene leans against a lone stool at a table. The stool wobbles on splintering legs. She grits her teeth, than sucks out a sliver of wood from her thumb. A gift from the table top.

Head spinning, Charlene lands in the quiet of the shuffleboard area, dizzy against the table. She presses her phone, fingers clumsy as she sends for an Uber. She downs more water from her purse. With some clarity, she wanders through sweat-soaked bodies towards the main door.

In the chill of the night, the creep is somehow beside her, waiting to follow her into her Uber. She ignores him, hobbling to a bouncer. “He’s following me, make him go away. He put something in my drink.”

The lie slips out; she doesn’t care. The creep who bought her five shots scares her. The bouncer’s blue eyes bulge. “No problem, Miss. I’ll ensure you get into the Uber alone.”

The bouncer offers the creep free beer to go back inside, and Charlene shivers, the wind biting at her face as flurries fly. She falls asleep inside the Uber, and the driver helps her into her apartment on the third floor. He takes the key from her hand and unlocks her door as she offers him a scrunched five-dollar bill.

“It’s fine. I don’t need help.”

The driver shakes his head. “That man you were running from, he’s bad. He has a different woman drunk each weekend night; he drugs many of them. The bouncer’s my friend, and he made sure you got into my Uber. We’re trying to catch him, but this a**holes too experienced to leave much evidence.”

The fact that the creep could’ve drugged her for ‘real’ makes Charlene ill. She rushes to the kitchen sink, throwing up multiple times.

The Uber driver ‘Ahems’ behind her. “I’m going now. Will you be okay?’

She nods. “Thank God, you’re a good man.”

“Stop accepting drinks from weird strangers. Don’t lead guys like him on. You have to think before you accept more than one drink; especially, in a small town like ours.”

Charlene nods, collapsing on the floor. She knows she’s asleep, but a sharp tempo beats against her temples. She’s half-awake, restless, afraid of the nightmares seeping in; the creep’s leering grin and eyes of a predator.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Day 17 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/ First Line Friday FF: Poem – Free Verse — “Full Moon of Neurotic Night” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #FLF #poetry 


Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie‘a First Line Friday Prompt. The first line from last Friday was: “I’m going to tell you how I lost my inheritance.” For NaPoWriMo the prompt is to write a nocturne which is a poem/song about the night. For A to Z Challenge, today’s letter is O for a GoodRead’s quote.  

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Credit: Arial Estrulin – Travel and Landscape Photography

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“You don’t have to be dead to leave a legacy. — Onyi Anyado”

——-

I’m going to tell how I lost my inheritance, how my legacy rides in tides as the full moon rises, 

How the night stole my humanity and hammered my soul a blow. 

The dusk covered the light, liquid tar blanket bestowed, 

The sun hid himself away, way down in western wilds of woe. 

A sinking feeling settled in and a certain chorus began to ring,

A range of notes, a rising crescendo of riveting lyrical prose. 

A poet’s words possessing her, when she knows full well, 

The powerful pull of the midnight hour. 

And the pressing provocative lure as the moon glows, 

A white orb that won’t warble, a strong luminious light, 

Residing over all as every full moon does. 

To be host over the howling wolves, the healthy youths as they prowl, 

The dark delights of the night distend into the dimest parts of every soul. 

A choir of banshees brazenly taking souls salaciously, the maids from their beds,

The hour of the demons drawing back to their victims with wet bloody lips;

The incubus raging and awaking the wild within their prey. 

And all is a lure, an image not clear, all this is imagined, 

All this is frightening, foretold in nightmares. 

The affected awake in the morning from the pleasure and pain,

From satisfied appetites, appalling in the dank aptitudes of night. 

Night swells and swallows herprey wholly, partaking and doping with her starry glow, 

Inviting the worst from the wise, even ill from the innocent. 

Yet a moral being cannot mean to say, night has had her way and ‘I’ had no say; 

It’s easy to give in with ease, to isolate one’s self to enthralling entertainments, inscribed darkly now on souls. 

And what’s done in the night when the moon is full and fat, cannot be told for it stays hidden on those nights, when the wildest ones escape.

The vampires and the wolves, the creatures we know not of, and humans do not stay humble ether — they choose to fly with the fallen. 

A nocturne of night will tell you what power presumes to hide beneath an inky black veil,

It’s not pure evil, it’s the usual kind, who chooses to dance with the devil, and forget their choices their choosing for charm and wine. 

For tequila and vodka, for him and her, and whisky burning down your throat as the howls of the night combine with a loss of memory; 

And we all awake mid-afternoon, no one knowing the peculiarities of such a night, a full out frightening moon. 

Only a feeling, a shiver, a prayer, as the moon fades from brilliance, she is trapped, unwillingingly held as she wanes us back into morality. 

The light of the sun salutes from the east and all is forgiven in harmony and health, angelic nebulas, skys of blue birds, and Bambi deers galloping. 

Woe is the wicked night on the full moon, but how much greater is the morn after malevolence is perpetually destroyed,

Yet oh, how we miss the fun of bliss in the dark — no thoughts, no reason, just acceptance to absorb the pleasures of night’s nocturnal nightmares. 

———


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Thick, Thin, and Tequila” #amwriting #poetry


Polyvore on Pinterest

———

You balance out my dance, 

And it isn’t per-chance, 

You’re the same women who tipped, 

Me back with a few drinks ten-years-ago.
Who talked to me in words much deeper

Much clearer than my confused soul.

You understood the words of my heart

Despite tequila, despite red red wine,

Maybe, even despite the way I was acting —

Dragged down by life’s issues, 

You always knew what I was hiding

Those secrets destroying me,

Never stayed hidden long. 

You laughed and you smiled

Gave me hugs and even —

A shot of apple whiskey, 

Or possibly a jello shooter.

In younger years we may have —

Only been egging each other on to drink, 

But we also learned to say to each other, 

Friend, I think you’ve had enough.” 

We’ve learned to have good times, 

Drinking nothing but tea, 

Or a single glass of our favourite wine. 

You’re always happy to see me, 

And I miss being closer to all of you. 

In these years you encourage me, 

For a few hours, for an early night —

To for a moment forget

The problems which haunt me,

You forget yours too —

We have fun, play some games

You tell me to —

“Celebrate with us and let life’s troubles —

Go up in the fire’s smoke. 

Forget your health, your other woes, 

Know us better, we know you best,” 

Years do not contest, the same kind faces, 

Always there, from nights at the bar, 

To tamer houses parties because —

Responsibilities they matter more now. 

You balance out my dance,

My friends, my connections

To myself, the real world, 

The way things could be, would be —

The way things are, 

You balance out my dance, 

In ways tequila never stood a chance, 

 My history, my friends, 

My ones I have chosen, as you’ve chosen me,

To walk with me as adults, 

Maybe someday in our old-age? 

For now we play games and laughter rings, 

It’s contagious and sets me free.

Cheers my soul, 

That unknowingly

You would lift my burdens from me

Give me pause and make me think. 

(The adult sipping on her Zinfandel, 

To make the tequila flavour go away.)

My friends, confidents,

Who accept me for me,

You set me free and give me faith, 

That I can face the bad guys, 

Live another day;

Just to see you all laugh uproarasly.

To see a fire glow and gleam, 

Beneath the silver moon,

And a game of flippy-cup by fires light. 

Some things never change. 

Friends playing, and in all seriousness saying:

“Everyone needs a night or two, 

To let go and live freely, 

And not overthink.” 

Your bestfriends give you liberty

Your best friends hold on to you

Through thick, thin, and tequila. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Maydays:  Flash Fiction – The Green Lady #Maydays #amwriting



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Thanks to K.L. Caley from new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. Today’s prompt is doing or having done something stupid or awkward.

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http://www.cooldigital.photography

———

Jeff had drank too much that night. It started with the tequila shots, followed by rye and gingers, and ended with shots of jäger. He walked through the bar, connected to his condo building, and he stopped in the lobby. He noticed a pretty woman, wearing green and standing by herself. She must be waiting for a cab, Jeff thought.

Jeff started talking to the woman, leaning up against her, laying it on thick as he could.

 “Hey baby. You’re gorgeous. You’ve such beautiful green eyes. Would you like to come upstairs to my condo and have a drink with me? You don’t have to stay there unless you want to. I can’t believe you’re here alone and you haven’t a wedding ring. Women as beautiful as you don’t come to this bar often.” 

The woman didn’t say a word and Jeff tried to get a kiss from her but she was rigid, ignoring Jeff’s lips.

 “Please, one kiss. You’ve such plush lips. I want one kiss, only to remember such a lovely woman by.You’ll like it. I’m a fantastic kisser.” 

The woman didn’t move. She never even turned her beautiful smooth greenish-skinned face towards him. Jeff became angry at her and Jeff tried to turn the woman towards him, she ended up falling on the floor. Then he was in tears, hoping she was alright. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to knock you over. I’ve had too much to drink. It’s only you’re gorgeous and I’ll probably never see you again. It’s okay. I know you’re not interested. Sorry to have disturbed you.” Jeff said helping the woman stand up, before heading up to his condo. He collapsed on his bed and slept.

The security guard watching the camera footage of a drunk man hitting on a plant he thought was a young woman, had tears running down his face. He couldn’t stop laughing as the histarical scene played out.

———

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: “When Life Gives You Lemons”


Thanks to Sonya of the blog 100 Words or Less for hosting 3Line Tales. I took the easy way out this week. There are tons of “If life gives you lemons . . .” quotes so here are some ones I found kind of funny. Enjoy! 

—–

Erol Ahmed

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1. 

http://www.mayurmacwan.com
——

2.

http://www.quotesgrams.com
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3. 

http://www.nobiggie.net
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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “Just Go”


http://www.blogingleinternational.com

—–

I want to just go, 

Travel somewhere,

Where waterfalls splash,

And swimming is the norm.

—–

I want to just go,

See the Duomo in Florence.

Walk the streets of Milan.

See so much art, I’m blinded.

—–

I want to just go,

View waters so blue.

See Coral reefs glow.

Relax in the sand.

—-

I want to just go,

Shop silk scarves, leather shoes,

Barter and buy,

Even though I’ve been taken.

——

I want to just go,

Drink bellinies and Margaritas,

Do a few shots straight tequila,

Sit on the deck, by the pool.

—–

I want to just go,

Hike the trail through fiolage,

Pretend I’ve no allergies,

See the sunset at night.

—–

I want to just go,

But limitations stop me,

Energy and time,

Money and people too.

—– 

I want to just go,

Someday I’ll break free.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.