FGC #26 Tantalising Fixtation

Tantalising contented fixation

we hunger for that sacred precious state

captivated by its sweet caress and salvation

lips moist with anticipation

soft sensual succulent hunger consummate

Tantalising contented fixation

Dark guilt and innocent flirtation

despised, feared adored and delicate

captivated by its sweet caress and salvation

useless to beg for its cessation

this smothered spiritual liquid paradise

Tantalising contented fixation

angel whispers, demon temptation

exotic sacred and decadent

captivated by its sweet caress and salvation

bounty in anyone’s translation

aromatic soothing indulgent chocolate

Tantalising contented fixation

captivated by its sweet caress and salvation

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

This was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge ,  FGC #26 Villanelle Poem Challenge.

I have to admit, I'd never heard of this style of poem before  I did quite a bit of research first about the structure - but basically ( from a great poetry website Kazoom)

The villanelle has 19 lines, 5 stanzas of three lines and 1 stanza of four lines with two rhymes and two refrains. The 1st, then the 3rd lines alternate as the last lines of stanzas 2,3,and 4, and then stanza 5 (the end) as a couplet

The advice many places gave was to choose a subject or topic area that you are obsessed with... and well.. Chocolate is high on my list.

Whispering Exit

Prompt: A high-priced prostitute suspects that one of the best customers is falling in love with them.

Bare feet whispered over the plush carpeting as two bodies, slick with perspiration and entwined in a seething, dance of passion; found a place upon the floor.

The dimmed lights within the apartment allowed the flickering candles on a small table on the balcony to intermix with yacht lights twinkling like stars upon the harbour waters in the distance. Plates of half eaten gourmet pleasures sat patiently underneath carelessly thrown crisp linen napkins.

Brittney arched her neck and allowed him to kiss it; shivering as he traced his way with hot breathy touches down to her naval.

She grasped his face gently and pulled it up towards her, enjoying the slither of their bodies together as he shifted his weight over the top of her. Travis kissed her deeply and then smiled at her concerned look as he pulled away.

“Why didn’t we go out tonight? I thought we had tickets to the ballet.” Travis lent on his elbow and brushed the sodden fringe out of her eyes.

“I thought we’d prefer a more personalized setting tonight.” Brittney smiled slyly, flickering her eyes between the hardened muscled torso and his face.

His eyes never left her face as he traced the outline of her cheekbones down to her throat. “I don’t understand why do you do this?”

She lay staring at the ceiling, “We’ve been seeing each other for months, I hadn’t pegged you as the curious type.”

“You aught to be doing something else, boyfriend, husband not doing this.” He nibbled her ear and flicked his tongue around the lobe. Brittney moaned. Travis continued to trace his hand around her throat and ventured toward her breasts.

“Do what exactly?”

“This. Us” Travis hand found her inner thighs and circled tiny touches in a pattern.

She stopped and stared into his eyes looking for a deeper question or emotion, the thrill of his casual word ‘us’ sending a shiver through her nervous system.

“Maybe I like it. I might ask you the same.”

“You are beautiful, a body any woman would scratch your eyes out for and one every man hungers for. You don’t need to be doing this, not with me in anycase.”

Brittany pushed herself up onto her elbow and ran her over his regular face, not the square cut jaw of romance novels, nor the piercing blue eyes of a god. His sensuous mouth smiled with an emotion that reached his muddy brown eyes. Brittney’s heart beat faster as she willed her breath to even out.

He slid his hand along her arm and clasped her hand, loosening her grip on his face; guided it down over his chest. “Roll over onto your back.”

Travis traced his fore finger down her back, stopping in the small of her back and then spread his hand out to slide his fingers around the shape of her bottom. He needed time to think, rather than be distracted by her face, her questions, her evasive answers.

A small beeper on the side table flashed discreetly.

“A call out this late? Did your boss forget where you were?” Travis questioned as his hands stopped their massage.

Ignoring the jibe, Brittney reluctantly crawled to where her dress lay and hunted for her heels. “You know what clients can be like.”

“Brittney, you need to get out. Get yourself a boyfriend.”

Brittany stood and slithered her figure hugging dress over her head. “I don’t have time and I doubt it would mix with my work.”

She slammed a large note on the dresser as she picked up her keys from the dresser.

Travis glanced up at the noise and looked away quickly. “You have an account, you don’t need to do that.”

“I don’t want anyone else. Even if I have to pay for it, I want you. Even if you don’t mean it afterwards, you have only eyes for me when we go out. You call my name when we make love. You make me feel as if there is no-one else for you. It’s a small price to pay, a tiny piece of your heart for a tiny part of your time.”

The door closed behind her whispering departure.

The Best of Days

Your character hears this on the answering machine: “Sorry to have to deliver such bad news on the phone, but I thought you would want to know as soon as possible. Your whole department is being phased out. Downsizing, you know.”.........

Sarah held her breath and pressed her back against the wall. Gina was being sacked – unceremoniously . She gave a sly smile – couldn’t happen to a more deserving person. The files she clutched, dug into her arms as she realized she had tensed up on her approach to the office, fearing her first quarters performance review with the Witch of Accounting. The answer machine clicked and beeped as the caller ended the call.

Surrounding her were the sounds of tapping upon keyboards, rustling of paper files, the photocopier processing a shef of documents and stubborn metal filing drawers being opened. Sarah hesitated. Aught she creep back to her desk and await the summons or stand here like a school girl waiting punishment outside the headmistresses office?

Her decision was made for her as the click, click of oversized heels echoed down the hallway and a designer suit infused with expensive perfume wafted past.

“Ahh Sarah, on time for a change I see. Follow me into my office.”

Sarah stared at the sparse surrounds of Ginas domain. No family photos, nor knick nacks adorned the wide wooden desk. An office organizer with 2 of each coloured ball point pens, a row of highlighters, a clear plastic ruler and a brand new erasor sat to one side of a large calculator.

Sarah sat uncomfortably on the plastic swivel chair set at a ridiculously low level from the floor. Anyone who sat in it immediately felt dwarfed by the desk and by the imposing figure sitting behind it.

She cleared her throat. “ I’ve brought my IPR with me and a copy of my stats.” Sarahs eyes could not tear themselves away from the answering machines flashing light.

“Humm, good.” muttered the distracted Gina as she logged onto her PC and flicked through her emails. Her long red talons rapped over the keyboard as she answered messages with her signature one liners.

Breathing in suddenly, she turned to Sarah, staring deep into her eyes. “ What do you know about the restructuring of the company?”

Sarahs face flushed as she stammered. “N..nnnothing, just the coffee shop rumours.” The red light continued to pound behind Gina.

“Well you have chosen the best department in the company. While other areas will be downsized and outsourced, we, the Accounting Team will lead by example, being the jewel in their corporate crown. And I should know, I have the ear to some very important people.”

Sarah flushed again and glanced away, incapable of thinking of a sensible reply.

A red nail pushed the play button on the answering machine and the voice Sarah had heard moments ago, left a prior message. “Gina, we need to catch up for coffee immediately, there’s news you need to know before Corporate Office pulls us all in for a meeting. Call me.”

“Isn’t that?”

“The CFO, yes, my fiancé. Have you a boyfriend Sarah?” the question piercing any intimacy or connection which may have just occurred.

Sarah flushed again, shaking her head.

“Good. They take your mind of your work. I don’t approve of inter office romances in any case. They always end badly.”

Sarah stared at her ragged chewed fingernails where chips of different nail polish gave them a shabby look.; unable to produce an intelligible answer.

“Oh damn it” Ginas PC beeped announcing an urgent message from Corporate Office. “I’m sorry Sarah, I’ve been called to a Management meeting. Pop your IPR on my desk, I’ll reschedule our catch up for later today.”

Gina tucked her slimline notepad and gilded fountain pen under her arm and clicked her way down the hallway to the boardroom, her perfect hair swayed in unison with her taut buttocks.

Sarah sat for a moment, her heart hammering. Slowly she stood, glancing around to see if there were anyone around to see her push the delete all messages button on the answering machine, before she too, strode out of the office, her flat sensible shoes whispering across the tiles.

Picture This # 10 ......Lost girls shoes

This story has been removed to be polished and submitted into competitions.. wish me luck!



Listen to the first draft on Audio boo here

Gold Class

A memorable blind date.........

“You know I hate these forced social meetings.”

“If I had told you about it you’d never have agreed to come.”

“Damned right there, sister. I’m not.” I stood stock still on the red carpet, clutching my delicate beaded bag.

Her large brown eyes pleaded me to come in side. No doubt she had proclaimed my qualities as lyrically as she had just outlined Marcs to me.

I folded my arms and scowled at Suzanne. “Give the ticket to someonelse.” I waved my arm at the growing crowds around the carpet. “ I’m going for a drink.”

“You’re missing out Cheree. Mark will be very disappointed. Hes really nice”

She waved the tickets in front of me. “Gold Class opening night tickets to the biggest blockbuster out of Hollywood, plus the after party with some of the actors.’ The tickets flapped in front of my face. I had been desperate to see the movie, but with no strings attached. “ Come On! You can’t ell me you aren’t a little bit interested. Look. You don’t even have to stay with Marc all night – just be nice.”

Her insistent eyes began to irritate me. “Stop trying to set me up with Tonys drippy mates. I’m fine!”

Suzanne dropped her arm defeated. “Alright go back to your one bedroom flat with your psycho cat. And spend another Saturday night, Alone.”

She turned on her heel, a dark storm cloud looming over the friendship.

My heart squeezed as I watched her go inside, refusing to give me another glance.

She’ll come round in a few days I mused, I hoped.

I turned to look at the options in bars and nightclubs in the street around me. The loud beat from one reminded me that I was no longer young and able to cope with the constant pounding of the music all night. Unable to make any sort of conversation with anyone, these places were more of a marketplace for pick ups rather than a place to connect with someone. My black cocktail dress, heels and understated jewelry was hardly the garb to go dancing in either.

I opted for a small jazz bar further down the street, where I knew the pianist. The wood grain and the leather overstuffed couches gave it an opulent but intimate feeling; reminding one of the days of drawing rooms and gentlemen’s clubs. The lighting was always dim and although smoking was no longer allowed inside, the atmosphere remained foggy. Settling down on a padded stool around the piano I smiled at Marcel as he gave me a wink.

I sighed stirring my Brandy Alexander with the straw. Perhaps Suzanne was right. I did need to get out and meet men, and ending up in a tiny forgotten bar would hardly achieve this.

I watched Marcels fingers dance across the keys and drifted into a trance, carried off by his silken voice. I was vaguely aware of the warmth of another’s body as they settled into the seat beside me.

“Your Brandy Alexander” the waitress announced as she placed it beside my elbow.

“Oh thanks – but I didn’t order another.” I said confused as my hand reached for the stem of the glass.

“That’s because its mine”, a deep voice noted with amusement.

My eyes sprung open as a hot flush rushed over my face. Dark eyes, framed with long lashes and a shock of untamed hair smiled at me.

I stammered my apologies as I stared at the well dressed stranger.

He stirred the contents of the glass and looked up at me. “That’s alright, and before you say anything, I know Brandy Alexanders are usually a girls drink – but its my favourite cocktail, I’m alone and can’t see why I can’t order what I like!”

I laughed “You sound like someone who gets a hard time for your choices.”

He smiled a shy but genuine smile. “Well meaning friends are usually giving me a dig about one thing or another. Can I get you a drink of your own, or would you like to share mine?”

I laughed and offered my hand to him. “I’m Cheree and I am escaping another dreadful Saturday night set up.”

He stared at me. “ I’m Marc and I am doing the same.”

“Gold Class?” we both blurted and then erupted in laughter, the sound infectious to one another until we sat gasping for air.

“Well Cheree, It seems the universe has it in for us and we were meant to meet tonight. How about we make the best of it and just enjoy ourselves?”

“Deal” I said as we clinked our glasses together.

and pumpkin makes five.

With ten days until payday your character discovers they are overdrawn

Brads head bent over the bowl; his long stringy hair flopping forward tantalizingly close to the gloop he was staring at. The spoon continued to stir slowly, suddenly stopping, he reached for the sugar bowl to fight the ants for a few grains and groaned.
“Empty again.” Sighing with resolve gulped the last few mouthfuls down with a grimace.
“Porridge is so much better with honey drizzled over the top. Can’t remember the last time we had honey.”

He looked up and flicked his hair out of his eyes. “We going shopping today? Theres nothing to eat and I am sick of porridge and pot noodles.”
Skye took a sip of her coffee. “Yeah, ok, I’ll grab the kitty and we’ll catch the bus together.”
She reached for the jar on top of the fridge and was concerned with the weightlessness of it. Bringing it down to eye level she saw that it was stuffed with IOU notes.
“Damn Grant. He never pays his way.” She fumed looking over the lid towards his bedroom.
“We are going to have to get rid of him.”
“Turf him out now and we will never see any of the money.”
Skyes face clouded as she turned away. Cousin or no, he was starting to irritate her and the other flatmates and she was sick of defending him.
“ Student payments don’t come in for another ten days. What the hell are we going to do?”
Skye stared hard at the closed door into Grants room , her focus disturbed by a loud clunk on the table beside her.

“Hey look what my little vine just grew!” Angies sweating and beaming face shone with the excitement only shared by those who have produced their own food on small plots.
Brad flicked his hair. “I hate pumpkin – its only fit for cows.”
Skye shot a withering glare at Brad. “Hang on a min – thanks Angie that’s great news - set it down over near the sink. We need a house meeting. I’ll go and push Grant out of bed.”
She knocked on his door and gingerly opening half expecting an unnamed blond to be sprawled over the dark sheets, legs intertwined with his. Skye was almost disappointed when she saw he was alone.

“House Meeting – and you are in the dog house, So get the hell out of bed.”
A groan from the lump in the bed inspired her to creep closer.
“Come on Grant I am serious – get out of bed. You’ve got to stop nicking the kitty money – we need it to buy food. None of us have any till payday.”
Another grunt and the naked Grant got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen.
“Get a cover on it will ya Grant. None of us are impressed.” Angie flung a bathtowel at him.
He snatched the thrown towel and neatly wrapped it round his slim hips. Grants hand sought the packet of cigarettes and he automatically lit one,,sucking deeply he blew the smoke out, “So whats up?” he drawled.

Skye glared at him and thrust the IOUs at him.

“This is the third time this semester Grant. Only this time we are out of food and no-one has a razoo till payday.”
He sat at the bench and stared at each flat mates face. “Serious?”
They nodded in unison. Brad rummaged through the pantry and pulled out a few odd tins and packets. “This is all we have till payday.”
Angies grinning face pushed in “You are forgetting my pumpkin.”
Grant blew smoke in her direction. “You don’t have a steak growing out there on a vine do you Angie?”

She gave him a withering look and gathered some of the precious stock around her.
“We can stretch what we have here and I know we can find some loose change here somewhere to buy duck bread.”
“Huh?”
“Bakers usually sell a huge bag of day old bread products for pittance.”
She looked around at the faces.

“What? My mum was single and I had two older hungry brothers. You get to know these things. Duck bread is perfectly edible if not a bit stale and you sometimes get a iced or a cream bun in the bottom!”
“And the pumpkin?”
“With what we have I can make pumpkin scones, soup, curried pumpkin and pumpkin patties. When we get the duck bread I can make a pumpkin pie and bread and butter pudding too. We can scout around the student canteen and the mall food hall for sugar sachets and sauce. We’ll be right!”

Grant shook his head slowly and looked at Angie. “You’re wasting your time in Physics, Angie. You’d make an awesome wife.”
She blushed and picked up the pumpkin. “Unless you are offering …..and I will say no anyway, I’ll stick with the geeks and science. But I won’t graduate if I starve to death – so get to scouting everyone!”

Resolves Disolves

Take a favorite character you have created. Pick a New Year’s Resolution that they truly intended to keep. Now, why did they break it within 24 hours

The bead of sweat trickled its way down Clarisas face. Her hand shook slightly as she reached for the glass of water Damien had placed beside her.

“You can do this you know. Don’t let it rule you. I have taken it all away, there is nothing in the house to tempt you or to remind you of it.”

The glass shook violently as she attempted to drink the choppy water. Damien reached across and took the glass away from her. Clarisa drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. She lay her face on her knees and looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling.

“How longs it been?”

He smiled with genuine warmth and touched her clammy shoulder. “Its still New Years Day. I have read that the first few days are the worst and you are able to cope without it or think about it after that. Are you sure you want to go cold turkey?”

Clarisa buried her face into her knees and shook. A muffled “Yes” wafted out through her legs as she began to sob.

“Look why don’t you open your last Christmas Presents. It will keep your mind off it all.”

The small figure on the floor drew itself even more tightly inward.

Damien crouched under the tree and grabbed the last two brightly wrapped gifts. “You have some weird family traditions Clarisa – but I guess this one makes sure Christmas lasts even longer..”

He twisted the labels round. “One for you and one for me. Guess who they are from?” His twinkling eyes looked over the wretched figure on the floor. She was now rocking slowly.

“Clarisa, I know you can do this, but don’t do it cold turkey. We can get help you know. There are places we can go to get you help.”

“No!” Clarisas dark eyes burnt up at him as she shrieked. “Its my New Years Resolution. I need to be free from this.”

Gingerly handing her the festooned gift, Damien eyed her warily. “If the wrapping is anything to go by your sister has gone all out this year.”

He carefully opened his gift, noting that hers still sat beside her as she gently rocked and swayed.

“Hey wow, it’s a half size stein. She says she picked it up from a market while she was in the Black Forest. Go on, open yours. I wonder what far fetched place around the globe your pressie is from?”

Clarisa stared at the crisp wrapping debecked with fake holly, berries and ribbons. She stretched a hand out and opened the greeting card.

Sissy, I am in my glory here in Switzerland, Wishing you were here too. Here is a little something I know you will love.

Clarisas breath caught in her throat as she peeled back the paper to reveal an ornate metal box filled with delicate Swiss chocolates.

A small moan passed her lips as she tugged at the final packaging to open the box.

With one hand she snatched three chocolates and forced them into her mouth, tears rolling down her face as she savoured the thick sensuous moulten chocolate delightfully dripping down her throat.

“Not this year, not this year,” she chanted softly to herself, “I’ll give up chocolate next year, really I will.”

Recipe for Love

Memes Prompt - Recall a not-so-endearing trait from a current or past love; now make it an endearing quality in your character.

Rita lent her head against his hairy chest and traced her fingers across his broad shoulders and southward to his navel. Walking her fingers upwards again,she wound them around long strands of his thick hair. She looked up at his face; his furrowed brow deep in concentration.

Grunt,click, click, grunt, scritch, scritch.

Completing his task, he looked down at her; smiled and then brushed her thick hair back from her face.
“You know, none of my other girlfriends could stand being in the same room when I was doing this.”
Rita beamed up at him and pushing her self to a sitting position, gathered the toenail clippings from the sheets and scooped them in her hand. She slithered from the bed and carried them towards the door.
Turning just before she left the room and peaking through her fringe, she silkily purred, “I’ll be back in a moment darling.”

Carl watched her hungrily. She was nothing like the waifs or barbie doll girlfriends of the past; her curvatious figure generous and overflowing in its own sensuality. He felt a growing heat overwhelming his consciousness just by thinking of her and hoped she’d be back soon.

Rita walked swiftly to the pantry and slid her hand to the back, opening a secret compartment. Feeling around in the cavity, she found the jar she was looking for and grabbed it out. Opening it carefully and swirling the vapours and sediment around, she tipped the toenail clippings in, quickly closing it.

She grasped it in her hand and mumbled a low chant. The vapours sparked and swirled inside.
Rita brought the jar carefully to the bench and set it down, staring at the mini fireworks inside. She popped the lid open again and placed a sprig of jasmine and a curl of cinnamon bark into the mix and stirred vigorously. She then allowed the ensuing vapour to escape and surround her. Rita bathed in the multicoloured smoke as it swished and flowed around her body.

“Honey are you coming back to bed?” came the plaintive call down the hallway.

Rita replaced the jar, closed the compartment and ran barefoot down into the bedroom. Sliding back into the sheets, she smiling shyly at Carl. Growling throatily, he said, “You smell so good. Come here, wench, let me show you how much I love you.”

Although those words had been foreign to him in the past and Carl felt somewhat detached from what he had just said; he could not have meant it any more than right now.

Smiling with a feline glee, Rita slid up his muscular body and kissed him deeply.

Marching to a Different Drum

Prompt: Dancing to a Different Drum - Write a Romance based short story.

This first draft has been removed as it has been chosen to be included in my 2008 Anthology and is under consideration for inclusion on a collaborative one with Jodi and Paul.

These will be available here - so do pop over!

Distant Distance

Mondays Musical Musings

A story inspired ( or begun) by listening to:

Brisbane songstress Kate Miller-Heidke. "I Got The Way" the first song on her debut album "Little Eve.".

"Since you left things have been a changing... You sound distant on the phone. Distant in Distance and Distant in Tone."

Shelly bit her lip for the fifth time. Her feet shuffled unconsciously as she stood craning her neck searching across the sea of humanity, flowing through the airport terminal and into the waiting lounges.

Four years was a long time to be apart. Phone calls, the odd exotic postcard and a few Christmas and birthday cards – if they remembered, didn’t constitute a strong and growing relationship. Certainly not the intensity of what they had before had Pete left her.

Shelly didn’t expect things to stay the same; they never did. She knew they had both changed, grown apart, despite the promises they had made those years back waiting for Petes flight to London; backpack already checked in and tears in eyes.

They’d met at high school, gone through the whole uncomfortable teenage angst thing, dreamed of bigger things as they worked in no brainier jobs at harvest time. They’d planned to escape the small country town that caged and judged them. They had both been misfits, Pete was gangly and she was awkward.

“Flight QF 401 has landed and will be entering customs, exiting through lounge four”.

Shelly’s heart raced. Would they even recognize each other? Shelly was a long way from the farm; her long legs clad in simmering tights, her svelte figure in a designer mini skirted suit, her hair cut fashionably and highlighted.

After moping around in the tiny country town after Pete announced the world backpacking trip, Shelly decided to pack her bags, study and find a job in the city. The first few months apart were the worst. Shelly constantly questioned her decision in not joining Pete. She knew she had been afraid of change, even though they had planned the whole trip together; it was Shelly who backed out, who made the excuses. Pete had been so understanding, but so determined to follow the dream through. Shelly had four years of lost time; of guilt to deal with. Pete had wanted only Shelly to be at the airport. The postcard had been very specific – “ I want to catch up on our lost four years- alone”

The first passengers from the flight from London began to find their families in the lounge. Shelly’s legs began to tremble. Now a personal assistant for CFO in a major banking institution, Shelly was usually poised and collected in the face of crisis and was angry at her reaction and fear in meeting Pete again. She was suddenly that awkward embarrassed teenager, unaccomplished, plain and unfocussed, sporting a homegrown haircut and dressed in jeans and an old tee-shirt.

Shelly held her breath as she spotted Petes curly hair bobbing in the masses. Petes pale face was plastered in a grin. Shelly began to breathe. Pete still had that mess of curls that needed cutting, still had twinkling mischievous eyes and had outstretched arms begging for an embrace.

They both shrieked and ran to one another, laughing, crying and talking over one another.

Peta!

Shelly!

Four years washed away in a single tear drop. Vanished and vaporized with one giggle. The past eradicated as the two girls linked arms and walked towards the carpark.

Conspinki

Conspinki is a made up word. Create a meaning and use it in your story..... Helen looked skywards breathing in the atmosphere. The sunshine bathed her bare arms and midrift as she lounged on the grass. The thronging crowds, infused with music, grappa and far too much ouzo, cheered loudly as the next Conspinky contestant entered the stage. “Here, a meze platter full of your favourites.” Colin flumped down ungainly beside her, handing her a polystyrene plate threatening to spill over at any moment. “Yum, Dolmades, Spanakopita, Skordalia, Kalamarakia, Saganaki. Hey where is my grilled Octopus?” She demanded. They were going to take another 20 mins and I didn’t want to wait that long and miss out on the Conspinky heats. “What? You’re not seriously watching that are you? It’s the dumbest event at this festival. Come on, lets go and watch the Zorba Dance off.” Helen scornfully said. Defensively, Collin replied, “Now you are the one that’s got to be kidding. Anyone can Zorba, but it takes endurance, aptitude and special training to be a true Conspinky Champ.” “Oh please Colin. Don’t make me laugh. I could beat any one of them with my eyes closed.” Helen boasted. “What? You. No way. I can’t imagine you .. ummm.”. he trailed off. Colin looked at his petite housemate, delicately picking through the platter of offerings he had brought and shook his head. The thought was incomprehensible. Last years champion had been a six foot five hulking greek god of a man. Helen continued with her mouth full. “I mean , don’t get me wrong, I love conspinky as much as the next person. But to make it into a competition that attracts this much attention is just ridiculous. What gets me is that there is never any female contestants. I mean, women have as much right as men.” Colin grunted. “I dunno, problem something to do with the ancient Greek Olympics and stuff. You know – when only men could compete. Why don’t we find out? They are still taking on names for the heats.” “Oh no, I was only kidding. I don’t want to make a spectacle of myself. All that contest stuff is just stupid anyway.” Helen quickly backpedaled. However, Colin was on a roll. “Oh no Helen, I think its your time to shine – come on I’m going to put your name down – or are you chicken?” Helen finished off her Meze Platter. “ Its not fair – I have just eaten. I can’t compete when I am full.” However, she meekly followed Colin to the stage where other contestants were milling round readying themselves for the heats. Helens name was added at the last moment and Colin gave her the thumbs up. Colin whispered out of the corner of his mouth “They look like they have been getting ready for this contest all year.” She looked at her opponents with a grim smile. They all looked very experienced. To Colins amazement and disbelief, Helen sailed through the heats and battled her way into the finals. She took each round with a calm determination, staring the other contestants down before she began each contest. The finals were announced and the crowd, full of ouzo and baklava gave Helen and her opponent a roaring welcome. She took her place on a her seat in the middle of the stage and stared long and hard at the mountainous task in front of her. Her mantra “ Be at one with the conspinki,” repeated over and over in her head until the referees whistle numbed all thoughts and she found her zone. “Conspinki, Love the Conspinki, Be with the Conspinki, I am the Conspinki” Colins grasping hands at her waist and the referees whistle brought her back to the roaring crowds. Her opponent lay on the stage gasping and moaning. Suddenly he leapt up and rushed to the front of the stage, spraying vomit over the screaming throng. “ Ah yes, that’s right folks, its not a true Conspinki contest until one of our finalists chucks it all up.” professionally commentated the presenter. “Ladies and Gentleman, our 2008 Conspinki Winner.” He held Helens exhausted arm in the air. Her face was green. “ Helen will receive a years supply of Conspinki, so give it up for our sponsers!” The crowd screamed its enthusiasm for the love of the free flowing alcohol, the pumping music and the tiny raw fish dish - Conspinki.

Images of Love

Prompt:

You are moving a cupboard which is not yours and a roll of film falls out…... “Sammy, help me with this will you?” Cathy called out down the staircase. Samantha wiped her forehead leaving a smudgy mess, and wove her way round half packed boxes, bubble wrap and overful plastic bags. “How does one person collect so much … stuff after only a few months? She wondered. Cathy was struggling with a silky oak set of drawers as she arrived. “ I thought that was Owens? Didn’t it belong to grandma or something?” Samantha ventured. “Humpf! She gave it to me. Anyway – what would he want an old thing like this for? It’s not like he knows how to put his own clothes away.” Cathy replied venomously. Samantha shrugged and bent down to help lift the bulky cupboard. As the girls lifted it, the ungainly weight tipped it sidewards, crashing it to the floor. A board cracked on impact, leaving a small fracture at the back of the headboard. “Typical. Everything Owen touches turns to crap. He didn’t want me to have this and this is his revenge!” shouted Cathy. “Sweety, calm down.” Samantha soothingly purred. “ We are just tired from all the packing and the cupboard was too heavy for us.” She painstakingly avoided mentioning that the accident had nothing to do with Owen. “Maybe we need to take a break and come back to this in a few hours. Owen won’t be back till tomorrow afternoon. So don’t panic, we will have you out of here tonight.” Cathy sat on the floor and started to cry. “ Am I doing the right thing Sammy? He ignores me all the time. I don’t feel he even notices that I am here, so whats the use of even trying? Do you think he will even notice I have gone tomorrow?” Samantha looked around. Most of the units furniture was stacked in the removal van downstairs. Books, CDs, pots and pans lay in disarray; half packed into garbage bags and boxes. “He’ll notice.” She replied. “ Come on. I’ll take you to that new coffee shop in the civic centre. We’ll have a recharge and come right back” Cathy looked up at her through her tears. “Ok.” As she stood, she absent mindedly tapped the cracked board back into place. “ Huh, it won’t go. Theres something stuck” she said digging around in the hole, Cathy pulled out a film canister. “Well” said Samantha, “ Theres a blast from the past. Not many people have one of those old things any more.” Cathy stared at it. Clumsily in “white out” was painted a heart and the words. “My True Love” underneath the canister , tiny words “in case of love failure – print” “Its Owens writing. Whats he on about? Is this proof that he really doesn’t love me and these are pictures of his past and present lovers? Is that why he ignores me – because hes got so many women up his sleeve he just takes pictures of them and doesn’t have time to print them off?” Cathy was on a roll now, fuming and brewing madly. Samantha snatched the canister away from Cathy. “Well its not ours and you don’t need to see whats on those photos. I’ll pop it into one of Owens backpacks, ok?” Cathy began to weep again. “ I knew it. Hes been cheating on me the whole time. I’m glad I am leaving him. I just want to get out.” Samantha put her hand on Cathys shoulder. “ Well technically, you haven’t left him. He has no idea what we are doing right now and is fully expecting you to be picking him up at the airport tomorrow. How about we go for that coffee and then get your stuff out of his unit.” Cathy lunged for the canister. “ No! I want to confront him with his treachery. Lets develop these when we are out having our coffee.” Samantha knew she was fighting a losing battle so relinquished her hold on the canister. Over coffee and a sticky cake, Cathy fidgeted nervously and checked her watch constantly. “Do you think the photos are of Louise from accounting? I caught them with their heads together last week, so engrossed in their conversation that he didn’t notice me come into the kitchen at work.” Samantha poked her chocolate cake with her fork. “It’s the end of tax year, Cathy. They work on the same account. I am sure it was just work related.” Cathy glared at her. “Whose side are you on anyway?” Samantha groaned. “ Obviously yours; but Owen is my brother. He can be an idiot sometimes, but I really can’t see him as a cheater.” Cathy flounced out. “ We’ll see who the cheater is as soon as I pick up those shots.” Samantha caught up with her at the photo developers. Cathy was slowly flicking through the photos. Tears welled in her eyes as she focused on each one. She handed the pack to Samantha. “They’re pictures of us when we first got together. I thought we’d lost this film. Look how happy we are. Oh Sammy; I’m the idiot.” Cathy started to cry again. “ Can we go back to the unit now?” Samantha put her hand on Cathys shoulder. “ Of course.” “I’m thinking that the couch would look better on the left hand side. Maybe we could pick up a few scatter cushions before we go back to unpack?” p>
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Village Whispers.

Prompt: Gongoozling .

Gongoozling . “He’s got gon…what?” Sherri whispered. “Gongozzling. “ came the hissed reply.” And its quite bad. It affects his whole life. He can’t do anything about it either poor fellow.” Sherri tutted under her breath. “And the Lord siadith unto his people…” droned the Vicar, high on his pulpit. Both ladies stole al look across the bench to where the widow Beth was sitting. Beside her, eyes fixated on the vicar, was her new beau, Harry; neatly decked out in a tweed jacket and polished shoes. “Well, he looks healthy enough” Sherri conceded. “Hmmmmm” Madge agreed. “Jeremiah 45:3 Woe is me, the lord added grief to my sorrow…” “ You can say that again Vicar. Poor Beth, just when she has gotten over Joes death and found a nice man, he turns out to have gongozzling. Dreadful….” Madge sighed, “ and they look so happy together.” “Shes been on her own for so long, I guess she is happy to take what she can have in the time they have together.” Sherri whispered. Humm came the reply. "Peace of mind makes the body healthy, but jealousy is like a cancer" “So can we talk about , you know – his condition to him or in front of her?” Sherri queried. Madge nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, apparently once you get him started, he doesn’t shut up about it. A bit like Mrs McGrady and her knee operation” They both tutted and agreed on her verbosity on the subject. Sherri leaned over and asked, “So what does Beth do about it, I mean does it come in attacks or is it constant?” “Well,” Madge looked around dramatically, “ Harriet says that Beth said that he is at peace when they go for a walk down by the canals.” “Oh yes,” reminisced Sherri, “My Terry and I used to take picnic down along the tow ways when we were young. Lovely spots there… hummm.. a pity he can’t shift himself off his chair to do that now.” “Think upon this my friends”, the Vicar shouted, “ Proverbs 26: 20 Where no wood is, there the fire goeth out: so where there is no talebearer. The words of a talebearer are as wounds.” Madge continued, “Harriet told me that he likes to watch.” Sherri nearly choked on her confessional wafer. “What?” Madge sidled even closer to Sherri,” You know, watch.” They both snatched a quick look again at Beth and Harry. “Beth seems so prim and proper. I just can’t imagine.. I mean. He watches..?” Sherri said in horror. Madge sniffed, “My Bob hasn’t bothered with me for years. I can’t imagine him watching me.” The vicars arms thrust into the air “ I leave you with Proverbs 10:12 Hatred Stirith up strife, but love coverth all sins.” “Well she’d better love him a lot and be doing a fair amount of praying to get over that lot.” Sherri pointed out. “Amen,” The congregation chanted. “Does Candice know about all this?” Sherri queried. “ We might have to pop over to her on our way out.” Madge and Sherri stood and made their way to the church doors, smiling and nodding their farewells with neighbours. They both thanked the vicar for his illuminating sermon and went in search for Candice. Just in front of them along the leafy lane, Harry was opening the car door for Beth. “Oh hello Beth. Lovely day don’t you think?” Sherri called in greeting. “Yes”, Beth warmly agreed. “ Harry and I are off to the canals for lunch.” Harry frowned as he fiddled with the car keys, impatient to get going. “Oh, how nice. Is it the.. umm… gongozzling then?” Madge ventured uncomfortably. Harry brightened up. “ Yes, yes. Lovely day for the canals. I think I might spend all afternoon watching. Would you ladies like to come along?” Madge and Sherri froze. It was hard to disguise the looks of horror on their faces as they both desperately attempted to think of a gracious way to decline. Madge stuttered, “ I think the books of David, Ruth and Daniel might have something to say about that sort of thing”. Beth smiled. “Harry, darling, I don’t think these ladies are quite up to it yet.. Good afternoon Madge. Sherri..Oh something the vicar asked me to pass on to you - Blessed are the hard of hearing for they shall miss much idle gossip”

For those who have no idea what gongoozling is - Gongoozlers are people who enjoy watching activity on the canals in the United Kingdom. The term is also often used in a more general way to describe those who have an interest in canals and the canal life, but do not actively participate. Gongoozling, much like trainspotting, is a hobby that can extend to all aspects of canals.

The Purple Flume

Prompt:

Describe how your character handles a serious bout of financial troubles. Justine placed the hand full of papers to one side. Many of them bore a red stamp or a highlighted mark. “Overdue” “Please pay at your earliest convenience”. She sighed and wondered how she would juggle things this week. “Mummy, Mummy, Josh is going to squash me” .A streak of pink ribbons burst into the room, followed closely by a barrage of brown corduroy. The mess tumbled onto Justines bed in a mass of squeals and giggles, and dispite her mood, Justine smiled. A small arm grabbed her shirt and tugged her onto the bed. The bills could wait, there was some serious tickling to do. Later that evening, as Justine smoothed a curl away from the face of her daughter as she slept; the dark dread of the bills crept back through her body. She turned and ran head first into the chest of her husband. His pained and sad look mirrored hers. There were no words needed. Alex and she were past arguing about money. He felt trapped in his lowly paid job, having completed his apprenticeship part time with the company and now his loyalty forced him to stay. Although Justine had tried to find a role that would suit the childrens school hours and be flexible with holidays and unexpected sickness, she was unable to secure a job to suit the needs of their family. She had only spent a few years out of the workforce whilst she was pregnant and raiding toddlers, but so much had changed with technology and the skills required to do the simplest of tasks, that she felt overwhelmed and inadequate. Justine slipped a bright red slip along the kitchen bench to Alex. “ Our phone is being disconnected tomorrow and we have less than a week until the electricity is turned off. I was able to put off the rates till next month. Oh and I think the suspension in the car is finally gone.” Alex stalked off silently into their bedroom. Justine let a long sigh out. She saw no way in which they were able to manage this month. Pride prevented Alex to approach either family or government agencies for assistance. The next day, after walking Lulu and Josh to school, Justine wandered aimlessly around the local shopping precinct. Her procrastination could wait no longer and she found a phone booth to start her calls to family and friends for help. An hour later, her crumpled list wet with tears of shame and frustration, she allowed her forehead to rest on the side of the phone booth. One of the multitude of advertising cards and notes stuck above the pay phone stuck to her head as she stood up. She absent-mindedly retrieved it and slipped it into her bag before turning to go back home. Justine flipped the card over and over in her hand. “Escape your Reality, Indulge others Fantasies… call 55533221” with a small “we are hiring” on the backside. Has it come to this? Selling her body? Justine sucked her breathe in and hid the card in her bag for the fifth time. “Mummy, why do we have to go to bed so early? I want to watch TV. Umm where is our TV?” Justine smoothed the golden locks of the plaintive whiner. “Lets pretend we are camping. I have some candles and torches to find our way round the house when it gets dark.” The doubting looks on her childrens faces nearly broke her heart. “ I have a wonderful story about a princess who was captured and taken to a dark cave.. if you interested” Squeals of delight rang in her ears and the three of them rushed into bed delighted in the shapes they could make with the torchlight to highlight her story. The next day, Justine stood in front of the phone booth for an hour before she picked up the received to dial the number on the card.. She was greeted with a warm velvety voice whose rippling laughter put her at ease once she had stumbled with her enquiry about the job. “ You have an intriguing edge to your voice. I like you already, when would you like to start?” Justine blushed and gulped. “ I can start straight away. But I don’t do any kinky stuff and no gross old men either” The rippling laugh rang out again. “ I think you misunderstand what it is that we do. This is not an escort agency. We indulge our clients fantasies over the phone.” Justine squeaked.” Phone sex?” “ Oh” said the silken voice, “ “ if that’s what you want to call it. However we like to think we are artists weaving a tale of fantasy, so real and erotic that our clients feel they can release whatever emotions they need to. We charge – and pay you by the second by the way, and you get bonuses for repeat clients.” So, Justine, do you like to tell stories?” “Well yes, I tell my children bedtime stories all the time” She blushed, “ but I can’t put sex or that sort of thing into them. I’d be too embarrassed”. Another ripple of laughter.” Just tell me a normal story and I will be the judge of everything else” Justine relaxed and began weaving her magic. Her assessor laughed with honest delight at the end. “You’re hired!” “What?” Justine was confused.” But I can’t do phone sex.” “Honey don’t worry about it. There are some set scenarios to use. With your first couple of callers, just use them but I am sure you will get in the swing of it soon enough and you will be freestyling with the best of us.” “Umm” Justine started,” I don’t have a phone. It got cut off” “Don’t be concerned. We send you a whole kit.” They exchanged details and confirmation of payment, client base and other semantics before Justine rang off , her heart lighter than it had been for months. The next day, a courier left a small brown papered box which she immediately hid till everyone had gone to bed before ripping it open under torchlite. Inside, a mobile phone, a single purple feather plume and a small folio of instructions, notes and details and lastly a gold gilded card with “During your calls, flourish your feather to get in the zone” Two months later, after school drop off, Justine drove home in a modest, but very sound family sedan. She had been careful to hide her earnings investing in good quality second hand furniture, completely paying off debts and purchasing small electrical appliances which could be hidden in cupboards when Alex was around. Justine was able to take calls during school hours and slip into the garden shed when everyone was asleep at night. Alex never asked about the bills and she was thankful she never had to explain how she was now able to balance their finances and to start to save to go on a family holiday and perhaps to put a deposit down on a home of their own.
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The Assignment

Prompt: Have your character give thirteen good reasons they need to learn a new language

This first draft has been removed as it has been chosen edited and used to submit for competitions or anthologies in the future.

It has been published here - so please check it out!