Recreating Gemma

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Recreating Gemma

Gemma

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Gemma wanted to be loved. More than anything, she wanted that. It seemed such a long time since she had felt wholly, genuinely loved. Time and again, dates came and went with no call and no second date. She perched on the couch with her teacup in hand, wondering why her love life was such a failed mission.

 

She flipped through the pages of Ms. Magazine, O, and Modern Bride, lamenting to her, I’ve read and reread every self-help self-improvement article in existence. I’ve taken all the quizzes on what to do and what not to do. My friends tell me to change, to try something different, and to try everything from relocation to aromatherapy! What’s a woman to do?

 

Gemma had begun with Fung Shui in her apartment and ended with each date leaving her cold. Suddenly, it hit her. I never reinvented myself! I never recreated my battered, bloodied heart! I never mended me. I never became a welcoming, loving person. I let my last relationship define me! What an epiphany!

 

Finally, she took the time to treat herself well and learn to forgive again. With every step, her heart softened and healed. She had forgotten how forgiveness of others could bind and strengthen her own wounded soul. She hadn’t realized how bitter, hard, and cold she had become. Wow, she thought, even I didn’t like me.

 

Months passed in a blur though she etched every moment into memory. She took slow, methodical steps and had arrived back at her true self, with one suitor who meant the world to her. Gemma smiled, realizing, all I had to do was recreate myself.

 

By Wildfire8470

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Daily Post:  Recreate

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Substandard

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chocolate

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/substandard/

 

Cheryl hadn’t met him. They had corresponded for years after she joined a group of writers, formed to write to our troops overseas. They all took pen in hand and began writing service members overseas; especially when they were  far away from loved ones during holidays.

 

She’d reread Dick’s replies as the letters became heated and lust nearly singed the pages. They prepared to meet when he came stateside. Dick had described a date she couldn’t have dreamed up herself. For months, she tried to imagine the scenario she’d prepared for.

 

Hours into that night, she sat in his car silently cursing him. This was not the man in the picture he had sent. This was not the behavior of a man who intended to keep his word. He drank heavily while she fantasized about chocolate Häagen-Dazs and preferring to be alone with it.

 

By comparison, and with all things considered, Cheryl found the reality of Dick to be substandard, but lighting his letters on fire would boost her spirits.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

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Satisfaction

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This beautiful photo is not mine.

It belongs to the artist linked here:  Photo ©Mossa Abdaoui

 

 

Life is too hectic, too heartbreaking to bear, with too many demands laid at my feet. Requests are no longer inconveniences. They are deadly weights dangling from my tiny size five’s, while I am clinging to a leaky life-raft adrift in a killer storm. Yet there is, on occasion, a tiny amount of satisfaction in envisioning letting go. There could be ultimate satisfaction in just being free of demands forever.

 

 

 

 

NOTE:  I’m sure this is not what the Daily Post had in mind. I am imminently satisfied with being edgy.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Divine Delicious Debauchery

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Divine Delicious Debauchery

 

Divine Delicious Debauchery

 

“Come join me in divine, delicious debauchery,” he said in a voice so enticingly seductive, Amy couldn’t believe he had said it to her.

 

She had lived a sheltered life, barely more than an existence really, and she checked the spaces beside and behind her to be sure he wasn’t addressing someone else.

 

Jesse stood with his hand out, piercing her with his grey eyes and holding her stare with his own. She took a step and started to reach, but withdrew. He didn’t falter. His arm stayed outstretched, with his rough hand extended, palm up, insistent and waiting.

 

Again Amy reached haltingly and this time he clasped her hand in his before she could change her mind. Nevertheless, he didn’t move. Jesse stood still, raking her with his eyes, and she realized it was a challenge. The decision to move any further would be hers.

 

Jesse cocked a brow, refusing to take his eyes off hers. She risked a full length glance and realized that he oozed sensuality. Every inch of his delicious body made her teeth sweat, but she wondered about the long term prospect thinking, he is delicious, and maybe we will be a divine union. Will we love deeply enough to make even debauchery divine in our perfection, or is he the epitome of walking sex with a few ten dollar words?

 

But she already knew half the answer. No one had ever aroused her interest the way he had in the space of five minutes. And I’m sick of my boring life. I’m sick of my world. I’m sick to death of nothing ever changing.

 

Amy clasped Jesse’s hand more tightly and took the first step.

 

Jesse grinned with wickedness shining in his eyes and licked his full lips.

 

Amy was hit by the enormity of making a sudden decision which she would never be able to turn back from. It was thrilling and terrifying. Amy wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh hysterically or lose her lunch.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

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©June 07, 2017 – 03:09 PM

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