In Case of Emergency

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in-case-of-emergency

 

Dahlia stood in the darkness thinking, worrying her hands, debating her options, and wishing she was still young. Decisions came so easily then but now, she paused laying her forehead against her arm at the window and then finished her thought, now I’m twenty nine. She closed her eyes against stinging tears and swallowed hard.

She couldn’t imagine her life without dance and couldn’t imagine losing Rand either, but this was a choice she had to make. It seemed the only choice and she would have to make it again and again. Dahlia sighed shaking her head when Melinda bounded into the room with hallway light streaming in around her.

“Uh oh,” Melinda said, hitting the light switch.

Again Dahlia closed her eyes asking, “Uh oh. What?”

Melinda sat down at the table digging into her clutch, “Dahlia, you only strike that pose when you’re really upset. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Dahlia answered.

“Sure. I’m buying that,” Melinda quipped, “You’re standing here in the pitch dark leaning into the window like you want to jump. Sure it’s nothing.”

Dahlia pulled herself upright and went to sit across from her, “I’m old, Melinda. How did this happen? I was eighteen just last week,” Dahlia said, hanging her head in her hands.

“I know but don’t think about it now. You won’t get cut. You’ve got at least a year before you have to worry about that.”

There’s more,” Dahlia whispered, “It’s Rand.”

“Mr. crazy-hot body?”

Dahlia smiled half-heartedly, “Yeah, that’s him.”

“So what is he on your last nerve about,” Melinda asked, laughing, “I’d be happy to take him off your hands!”

“We made love last night and,” her voice trailed off as she thought back.

“And,” Melinda snapped anxiously.

“And he accused me, Melinda. I’m guilty. Oh god, I’m guilty as hell! He said I wasn’t there,” Dahlia stopped short and got up to pour a drink.

“Not there? How the hell do you make love and not be there? Oh! You mean, not present?”

“Bingo,” she answered, pulling two glasses from the cupboard, “And it’s the awful truth. From the moment he asked me out, I’ve Grand jeté with every breath. One minute, I was building to orgasmic crescendo, blissfully lost in his touch, his kiss setting me on fire, and a minute later he asked, ‘Where are you, Dahlia? Where did you go?’ That’s when I realized it.”

“Realized what,” Melinda voiced her confusion, “I Grand jeté into every open door when I’m in love. Hell, that’s how I know when I’m in love!”

“Yea? And do you get lost in thinking about how the turn of your ankle was slightly off just as you’re writhing beneath him about to climax?”

“No way,” Melinda cringed.

“Way,” Dahlia placed filled glasses on the table and poured rum into each without measurement.

“You just got distracted,” Melinda offered, “He doesn’t know how hard it is for dancers. Did you tell him this could be your last year?”

Dahlia rolled her eyes at Melinda, “Yeah right. He’ll understand. He’s an architect, for crying out loud.”

“Do you love him, Dahlia? Is he absolutely the one,” Melinda swallowed hard, not expecting the amount of rum she got, “I mean, maybe he’s not worth all this?”

Dahlia sat her drink down and glued her eyes to the floor answering, “He is and he’s leaving next month.”

“Oh. Oh! He asked you to.”

Dahlia put a hand up, “Stop! Don’t say it!”

Melinda was ecstatic and crushed for Dahlia; even though it would be the break Melinda was hoping for.

Dahlia couldn’t speak. This was worse than being torn between two lovers. Dance was her life. She took a long draught and whispered, “Yes, he did.”

“And you’re?”

“I don’t know,” Dahlia cried, “I don’t know what to do! I only have a year left in dance but Rand said he’s never coming back. I asked him to wait but he needs to feel more important than anything else. He won’t wait! When he’s gone, he’s really gone,” Dahlia poured her heart out.

Finally, Melinda extracted a teabag from her velvet clutch and held it up to the light explaining, “It was a gag gift at a party I just came from.”

“Melinda!” Dahlia was shocked at her but curious, “What’s in it?”

“Pills,” Melinda replied.

“Duh! What kind of pills?”

Melinda paused, grappling for the right words and finally blurted, “The answer to your problems, Russian Roulette pills.”

“Melinda, what are you talking about?”

“Grand jeté into the grave,” Melinda whispered, testing Dahlia’s mettle, “In case of emergency, make tea.”

Dahlia descended into a fit of giggles and Melinda couldn’t help but join her. Melinda filled the teapot with water and Dahlia put the kettle on the stove. The two embraced happily and Dahlia laughed, “Okay, you’ve made your point!”

“Good! I was half worried you would do it,” Melinda grinned patting Dahlia on the back.

“It’s not a fate worse than death, but it is in a way.”

“Oh yes,” Melinda laughed, “I’d sooner die than marry Mr. crazy-hot-body! Geezzee! Drama! Drama! Drama!”

 

 

 

 

 

By Wildfire8470

 

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© September 19, 2016 – 04:44 AM – All Rights Reserved

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Reckless Rita and Feckless Fred

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Feckless Fred

 

Dear Diary,   12/8/2015

 

I’m sitting here next to feckless Fred except now he’s dead, and I’m about half seas-over working on my sixth pint of Conqueror Black IBA. I found a crate in the back of his truck! Okay so murder is wrong, and way out of my comfort zone, but it was really self-defense so I know you will forgive me when I explain why.

 

That’s the last picture I took of him right before Thanksgiving dinner at the community club. Well it’s half the picture. Old feckless was getting an early start. Nothing new about that, but that night was the first time he hurt me.

 

Later, when I downloaded the pictures, I cut his head off and pasted it onto a silver platter surrounded by bloodied mashed potatoes. You’ve got to love Photoshop! I stuck it on an e-card and wrote, “It’s what’s for Dinner – Happy Turkey Day!” Well, it made Olivia laugh and I got to vent. What he didn’t know never hurt him.

 

Only you and Olivia know the things I said weren’t premeditation, like, “If he comes home stinking drunk again I’ll do something drastic!” I never really meant it. I was just blowing off steam. I was pissed and I spouted off, “I’ll spike his drink with Drano,” and “If he lays a single hand on me, I’ll go Unabomber on his feckless ass,” but tonight he busted through the locked bedroom door, blackened my eye and split my lip. I snapped. I guess, by now, I knew I’d kill the bastard someday. I just didn’t know it would be today. 

 

Knowing his nightly routine, I waited to hear him turn the faucets and fill the bath. I heard the water splash in protest as he lowered his fat ass into it. Tonight, I stopped threatening and issuing impotent warnings. Tonight, I made good on them.

 

It was time to put up or shut up. Olivia knew it. She said, “If you forgive him, he thinks he can do it all the time and get forgiven all the time. All that teaches old feckless is that he’s right. He thinks he can injure you and get off with a few practiced tears and empty words.”

 

Geeze, she sure was right. She spoke with the voice of personal knowledge, warning, “One day you’ll make a decision or he’ll force you to, if he doesn’t kill you first.” 

 

She offered to let me stay over when he really had a snoot-full. Until tonight I was damn near living there, but just like she said, Fred forced me to choose. It was his life or mine so I did the first thing that came to mind.

 

I went to the tool shed to fetch a long extension cord and plugged it into the wall outside the bathroom, then got the toaster and plugged it into the other end. Silently, I cracked the door. Fred got up when he saw me enter. Before he could make a move I lobbed the toaster at him, yelling, hey Fred, go deep!

 

You should have seen his face when I pitched the toaster into the tub! Oh, it was so much better than I’d imagined a million times!  What now? I have to call Olivia straight away. Maybe she’ll know what to do with fried feckless.

 

RR

 

 

By Wildfire8470

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© December 08, 2015 – 07:21 AM – All Rights Reserved
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Sharon’s Treasure (Part 1)

Sharon’s Treasure

 

Thurday Thrills - 02282013

Sharon arranged to go to an expensive club with her friend and neighbor, Maya, tonight. Maya just bought a brand new Beamer and was dying to be seen driving the luxurious automobile. Sharon accepted gleefully, knowing she wouldn’t have to drive. She rubbed her palms together as she planned on letting her hair down for once.

At times, she wasn’t quite sure why she and Maya had become fast friends. For all intents and purposes, they were complete opposites. Maya was very well off. Sharon barely made ends meet. Maya loved all things expensive and shiny. Sharon treasured family, friends, and love, above all else, but tonight she was willing to make an exception.

Maya was a wide-eyed, dewy-skinned girl who hid behind too-large sunglasses, lots of makeup, and hair dye, but she pulled it off. Sharon put on a dress that was to die for, with the perfect, matching clutch and heels. Both of them were beautiful in very different ways.

From the moment they found seats at the club, a man in the shadows sent Sharon a drink; a strong one. After three more rounds of the same, he moved from the shadows, self-assuredly, in a direct line to her. He was handsomely chiseled with strong cheek bones, and jet-black hair. Sharon noted that he was wearing a Charcoal Dolce and GabbanaSuit.

Though she lowered her eyes, he held out his hand to her asking,

“May I?”

She looked up all the way from his shoes, which were polished to a high sheen, to his handsome face.

“Ahhh,” she stammered until Maya pretended to adjust her position and pinched her hard on the thigh, “Yes, of course,” Sharon said dutifully.

He held her close on the dance floor. His lead was masculine and wonderfully fluid. She thought back to an occasion when she accepted a dance with a man who was stilted, and likened it to driving a truck.

Finally, he introduced himself,

“I’m Aiden. Very pleased to meet you uhhh,” he paused.

“Sharon,” she blurted, hardly believing he cared what her name was. She couldn’t help thinking that Aiden had chosen the wrong girl.

As the song ended, he dipped her effortlessly and then pulled her to him in a passionate kiss. Already, she was enamored of this man.

They embraced on the now empty dance floor when he finally propositioned her,

“Why don’t you join me for drinks and a night dip in my heated pool,” he asked.

She stood mute in his gaze, disbelieving that this man who looked and smelled so terrific was interested in her.

“But… I ahhh… came with my friend,” she stated resolutely.

Aiden turned to look just as Sharon did. Maya was surrounded by potential suitors, all of whom vied for her attention.

“Come on,” Aiden said, “Warm pool, good drinks, hot Jacuzzi. Are you really going to pass that up,” he asked with an exaggerated said face.

“Okay,” she relented, “Can you take me home a… aft…er,” she stuttered, suddenly realizing she didn’t know what, if anything, came after the pool and Jacuzzi.

Aiden called his chauffer to pull the car around. Sharon was impressed, feeling a little bit like ‘Cinderella,’ and hoping she wouldn’t feel like ‘Alice in Wonderland’ later.”

When the car stopped in front of a small mansion, she thought she might faint. All she could think was.

“Ohhh, I’m in way over my head.”

Seeing her deer-caught-in-headlights expression, Aiden gathered her into his arms.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Sharon.”

He dismissed the chauffer and quickly led her thru the mansion, stopping only for drinks. She stifled a gasp when he flipped a switch and colorful bulbs lit the patio and pool.

Aiden showed her to a seat in a cushy, lawn chair until she finally stopped him,

“Wait. I don’t have a swimsuit,” she admitted, stunned that she hadn’t thought of that.

Aiden gently pushed her glass to her lips and said,

“Drink up. It makes no difference. I won’t wear one either.”

With that, he stood and pulled his clothes off.

Sharon inhaled her drink quickly and pinched her own wrist.

“Nope,” she thought, “Still Cinderella!”

By Wildfire8470
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© January 03, 2017 – 10:18 PM – All Rights Reserved
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9.7

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Flower-stained dresser and wallCalenda and I have been roommates since she started college. She rented my spare room and four years later she’s still rooming here. She was a Drama and Dance major, and is definitely the ultimate drama queen. If she isn’t looking for trouble, trouble comes to lean on the doorbell. Still, she’s like my baby sister.

Tonight, I found her her seated before a large vase containing only bare stems, and a water glass filled with whiskey. I quickly surveyed the room to find it filled with a dozen vases, all filled with bare stems. Then it registered that she had ripped the roses off and hurled them at the wall. The photo of her boyfriend was beyond repair.

I knelt beside Calenda and asked, “Boy trouble?” She shook her head and sighed. I took her hand and led her to the couch, put on her favorite movie and made popcorn.

As I took a seat next to her, I scrambled for something light to say, “The flowers were colorful. Good aim! I give ya a 9.7,” I laughed jovially. She finally smiled and I suspected that we would be trying to repair the photograph before another day passed.

 

By Wildfire8470

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