The Next Level

He sat in the dark living-room, watching as the rain fell, droplet by droplet down the windowpane.  He couldn’t sleep.  All he could think about was her.  She was out there somewhere with another man.  Was she having a good time?  Did she have any idea of how much this was hurting him?

It was after mid-night.  He should hit the sack but he couldn’t sleep.  He dragged his fingers through his hair, his expression drawn.  Why did he have to go and fall in love with her?  Life was less complicated when they were just friends.  Then, one night, they were goofing around and the next thing he knew they were kissing wildly.  They ended up in bed.  Immediately after, she got dressed and got out of there fast.

For several weeks she avoided him.  She didn’t return his calls or answer his texts and emails.  And when he finally got through to her, she informed him that she was going on a date with some guy a co-worker set her up with.  When he asked her about what happened between them, she said that it was a mistake and that they should cool things off for a while.  That hurt like hell.  After she hung up, he went to a bar and got plastered.

The next morning, he woke up with a terrible hangover.  How he managed to get through the day, he had no idea.  As soon as five o’ clock rolled around, he walked out of the office.  He was tempted to go to a bar but headed straight home.  When he got in, he fixed himself something to eat but had to force himself to eat it.  After he cleaned up, he took a long, hot shower.

He tried to read but couldn’t concentrate.  He went on his laptop for a while but ended up going on his Facebook page to look at pictures of them together.  They looked so happy.  Agitated, he logged off and got up from the desk.  He went back into the living-room, turned on the television but he was distracted.  He turned it off and switched off the lights.  It was ten-thirty when he climbed into bed.  He lay on his back.  Outside the rain was falling.  He could hear it hitting against the window.  He closed his eyes but sleep evaded him.  He glanced at the clock.  It was eleven-fifteen.

Throwing off the covers, he climbed out of the bed and left the room.  He went into the drawing-room and sat down on the sofa.   He watched the rain droplets running down the windowpane.   At first, he thought he had imagined it.  Then, he heard it again–faint.  Someone was ringing the doorbell.  He got up and went to see who it was.  His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was.  He opened the door.  His eyes ran over her.  She was drenched.

“You’re soaking wet,” he exclaimed as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside.  After he closed the door, he took her into the bedroom.  He turned on the light.  “You need to get out of that wet dress.  While you do that I’ll get you a towel to dry your head.”

He went and got a towel and took it back to the room.  He handed it to her.  She took it.  “Haydn, I’m sorry…”

“For what?” he asked, his expression tense as his eyes met hers.

“For the way I’ve been treating you.”

“When I wanted us to take our relationship to the next level, you made it painfully clear that you didn’t.”

She dropped the towel on the bed.  “I haven’t been honest with you.  After what happened between us that night, I panicked.  I didn’t know how to handle it so I needed a break.”

“I could understand you needing a break but why did you have to go on a blind date?  Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?”

“I’m sorry, Haydn.”  She moved towards him.

“Is that why you came?  To apologize?”

“Yes and to tell you that I’m ready to take our relationship to the next level if you still want to.”  She was standing very close to him now, looking up at him.

His eyes darkened on her upturned face and reaching for her, he moaned thickly, “Of course, I still want to.  Oh, Malika…”  He held her tightly against him as he kissed her passionately.  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

As they exchanged kisses, he backed her over to the bed.  Then, he broke off he kiss long enough to strip and undress her before they were under the sheets making love love.  Outside the rain continued to fall.

He later found out that Malika had changed her mind and didn’t go on the blind date.  The two friends became lovers and the following year, they got married.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, Droplet.  If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

In A Jam/Beneath #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

 

Where was the brooch?  She hadn’t seen it since…her face turned pale when it hit her that she hadn’t seen it since the night she was at the cottage with…Ron.  She got up from the desk and began to pace the room, trying to figure out what to do.  She couldn’t go back there and look for it.  What if she ran into someone?  No, it was too risky.  But what if someone found it?  It was one of a kind.  It was a 1948 gold and silver squirrel broach with a pearl which her grandmother had given her when she graduated with honors from university.  People had seen her wear it in public.  There were photos of her online wearing it.  In a couple of interviews she had been asked about it.  And now she would be appearing on television later today without it.  What was she going to do?

She ran wrung her hands, feeling sick at heart.  If only she had ended the affair when she planned to.  If only she hadn’t gone to the cottage.  If only…

“Ma’am, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Juanita, I can’t see anyone right now.  I have to leaving soon for the office where I need to go over some notes before heading to NBC.”

“She said that she has something that belongs to you.”

The Mayor considered it for a moment and then, said, “Show her in.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”  Juanita left and returned shortly with a petite and flashy dressed woman. She looked around her like she wasn’t used to such opulence.  She looked out of place.

The Mayor observed her carefully.  When they were alone, she asked, “Who are you?”

Instead of answering that question, the woman held out her clasped hand.  “I believe this belongs to you.”  She opened her hand to reveal the brooch.

The Mayor stared at it.  She reached for it but the woman closed her hand and withdrew it.  “Where did you find it?”

“I’ll answer your first question, Madam Mayor.  My name is Helen Burns.  I’m Ron’s wife.  I suspected that he was two-timing me but I never imagined that it was with you, Madam Mayor.  I found your brooch on the floor beside the sofa.  I picked up and put it away for safe keeping.  I guess it was lucky for me that you didn’t drop it in the lake and unlucky for you that I found it.  I watched you as you called the police before you ran out of the cottage like a bat out of hell.”

The Mayor swallowed.  “What do you want?”

“I want a hundred thousand dollars.”

The Mayor gasped.  “For returning my brooch?”

“No, for my silence.  You pay me the money and no one has to know that you were with my husband when he died.”

“A hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

“You can afford it.  It will cost you a lot more if you don’t pay up, Madam Mayor.  I will be in touch.”

“My brooch…?”

For the first time since they met, Helen Burns smiled.  “I’ll hold on to it, if you don’t mind.  You have a beautiful home, Madam Mayor.  It would be a shame to lose it and all that you’ve worked so hard for.  I’ll see my own way out.  Good-day.”  She walked out of the room, whistling and with a bounce in her step.

The Mayor went over to the sofa and collapsed.  Her head was spinning.  How she longed for a drink but she had the interview.  Where was she going to get a hundred thousand on such short notice?  Anthony Spinelli.

She got up from the sofa and took her cell out of her handbag.  She quickly punched in a number.  “Spinelli.  It’s me.  Remember that favor you owe me?  Now’s your chance to make good on it.  Meet me this evening in the parking lot.”  She ended the call, put her cell away and grabbed her keys.  “Juanita, I’m leaving now.”  She stepped out into the sunshine.  If anyone could get her out of this jam, it was Spinelli.  She smiled.  Things were looking up again.

 

This was written for #writephoto Prompt – Beneath at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Stick With Your Own Water

Drink from your own well, my son—be faithful and true to your wife. Be happy, yes, rejoice in the wife of your youth.  Let her breasts and tender embrace satisfy you. Let her love alone fill you with delight. – Proverbs 5:15, 18, 19

It was a Sunday afternoon.  Sunlight streamed through the window.  I could hear the muffled sounds of the traffic below.  We were lying on the couch.  The television was on.  Angie was sleeping.  I stared at the screen but my thoughts were elsewhere.  I was thinking about Nikki.  She’s the woman I’m having an affair with.

I know this may sound lame but I never intended to cheat on Angie.   And definitely not with one of her co-workers.  I was blindsided.  It all began last year when Angie and I went to her company’s Christmas party.  It was the first time she actually succeeded in getting me to go.  She had tried in the past but I always turned her down, preferring to either hang out with my friends or go on a Football binge while enjoying spicy chicken wings.  This time, I decided to go because she laid a guilt trip on me and apparently there was a new guy who seemed a little too interested in her.  I wanted to sort him out.

As soon as we got there, I said to her, “So, where’s the new guy?”

Angie looked at me.  She looked amazing in the red ankle length strapless dress which flattered her figure.  Her hair was swept back in a French knot.  “Promise me you wouldn’t embarrass him or me,” she said.

“I promise.”

“He’s over there talking to Nikki.”

“Nikki?” My eyes followed hers and spotted a man and woman having an animated conversation across the room.  Nikki had her back to us.

“Yes, I’ve told you about her.  Come let me introduce you.”  She held my hand as we navigated our way through the group, past the dance floor to where the guy and Nikki were.  The guy said something to Nikki and she turned around.

I never imagined that I would react to her the way I did.  I felt as if my heart had stopped for a second before it began to pound.  She was stunning.  The faux fur trim knee length black dress showed off her lovely figure and her hair was pulled back with a clasp with a few curls escaping.  Her shapely legs looked long in the black high heeled shoes.  The room suddenly felt very warm.  I needed a drink.

“Dex.” Angie’s gentle nudge on my arm jolted me and I turned to her.  “This is Nikki.”

Nikki smiled up at me and held out her hand.  “Dex, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said as we shook hands.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

I didn’t know what to say except, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

“Honey, this is Erik.”

It was funny that I wasn’t bothered by Erik anymore.  I think it had something to do with the fact that I was distracted by Nikki.  I could feel her eyes on me as Erik and I shook hands.  I don’t remember what I said to him but from Angie’s expression, it wasn’t anything bad or insulting.

“How about Dex and I go and get you ladies drinks?” Erik suggested.

Angie smiled.  “That sounds good.  Nikki and I will wait here.”

I excused myself and followed Erik to the bar.  I ordered drinks for Angie and me while he ordered for Nikki and himself.  While we waited for them, he turned to me and said, “You’re a very lucky man.”

“I am?”

“Yes!  You’re married to an incredible woman.”

“Yes, you’re right.  I’m very lucky.  Angie’s terrific.  So, you recently joined the company.”

“Yes, I started in May.”

“So, how do you like it so far?”

“It’s great.  The people I work with are amazing, especially Angie and Nikki.”

I had to ask.  “So, is Nikki married?”  I couldn’t remember if Angie had mentioned if she was or not.  Until tonight, I hadn’t paid much attention to what she told me about her co-workers.

Erik shook his head.  “No, she’s single.  It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?  A lot of guys at the office are always asking her out but she turns them down.”

The drinks came and we rejoined the women.  I tried not to look at Nikki more than I needed to but it was really hard.  The four of us hung out together for most of the night.  After we had something to eat from the buffet, the dance floor was opened and people headed for it.  Angie wanted to dance and I reluctantly obliged her.  Then, Erik showed up and I honestly didn’t mind him dancing with her.  I joined Nikki at the bar.

“You’re not much of a dancer, are you?” she asked.

I laughed.  “Was it that obvious?”

“Well, you can dance but you’re just not into it.”

“You’re right.  It’s not my thing.  That’s one of the reasons why I haven’t been coming to the Christmas parties.”

“Well, I think it was sweet of you to dance with Angie even though it’s not your thing.”

“Thank you.  What about you?  I haven’t seen you on the dance floor.”

She shrugged.  “I guess I’m not in the mood for dancing.  Besides, these shoes are killing my feet.  They’re new.”

I didn’t dare look down at her feet.  I kept my eyes trained on her face.  “Erik told me that you’re single.  I find that hard to believe.”

She smiled.  “Really?  Why?”

“You’re a stunning woman, Nikki.  Most of the men here haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”

“And what about you?” she asked, her expression serious now.

I swallowed hard.  “I’ve tried not to stare at you,” I admitted.  “It’s not easy, though, especially now when we’re alone like this.”

“I know what you mean.  I’ve tried not to stare at you too.  I’ve seen photos of you but none of them do you any justice.  Angie’s a very lucky woman.”

I found myself wondering what would have happened if I had met Nikki first.  Would Angie and I be married?  I felt guilty having such thoughts.  I glanced away, my heart racing.  I should walk away now.  I should go and find Angie.  Yet, I couldn’t seem to move.  I turned to face her.  She was staring at me.  “Nikki, can I come and see you tomorrow night?” I heard myself ask.

“Yes,” she said simply.  She told me where she lived.  Then, she slid off the stool.  “Let’s go back to the party.”

I followed her.  For the rest of the night, I stayed with Angie but I was thinking about tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night came and after telling Angie that I was hanging out with the guys, I left.  My fingers gripped the steering wheel.  I shouldn’t be doing this.  I should be home with Angie or really hanging out with the guys.  Instead, I’m heading over to Nikki’s place.  Nikki.  Every time I thought about her, my stomach would flip flop and my heart would somersault.  No woman, not even Angie, has ever had such an effect on me.  This is crazy.  I should turn this car around and head back home.  I could tell Angie that I changed my mind and that I wanted to spend the night at home with her instead.  She would love that.  I’m sure Nikki would understand if I didn’t show up.

Twenty minutes later, I was standing in front of her door and ringing the bell.  The door opened and she stood there.  “Come in,” she said, stepping aside.

I went in and she closed the door behind me.  I turned and faced her.  My heart is pounding and my face felt hot even though I had just come in from the cold.  I removed my coat and scarf.  She took them and carried them to the closet.  When she returned, she didn’t say anything but reached out, grabbed hold of my sweater and dragged it over my head.  My bare chest was heaving now as I fought for air.  I pulled her roughly against me and my head swooped down.  My mouth closed eagerly and hungrily over hers, groaning when she put her arms around my waist and kissed me back.  We didn’t make it to her room.  We ended up making love right there in the foyer.  Afterwards, we showered, had dinner and made plans to see each other again.  Then, I left.

We’ve been seeing each other for months now.  So far, Angie doesn’t suspect anything, not even when Nikki decided to leave the company.  As I lay here now on a quiet Sunday afternoon, I know in my heart that I can’t continue doing this.  I can’t continue lying to Angie.  I know what the Lord wants me to do but I can’t do it.  I can’t let go of Nikki.  I can’t.  I won’t…

Adultery isn’t something that is unplanned or unintended or an accident.  It occurs in the mind and heart long before it becomes an action.  You have a choice to say no and walk away but oftentimes, you say yes and walk right into it, not thinking about the heartache and the consequences that will affect you and the person to whom you promised to be faithful until death parted you.  Adultery is a selfish act.

Jolene/Stark #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

“Y’all gonna be okay while I’m gone?” Darlene asked her husband, Mick and her daughter, Jolene.  She was heading off for the weekend to a Women’s Ministry retreat in Atlanta.

They both looked at her before Mick answered, “Yes, we gonna be okay.  Don’t fuss so.  It’s not like you ain’t been away before.  We can take care of ourselves.  Jolene’s gonna take good care of me, ain’t you, girl?”

Jolene’s answer was to blow a large bubble and then pop it.  She was at the table putting nail-polish on her long fingernails while chewing gum.  Her dyed blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail making her look younger than eighteen.  Long dark lashes framed big, bright blue eyes which narrowed now as she glanced at her step-father.

Darlene wasn’t convinced but, she just had to believe that they were going to be all right for the weekend.  She knew that they didn’t particularly like each other.  Jolene’s Dad died when she was three and until a year ago it was just the two of them.  Then she met Mick at a friend’s barbecue and fell in love with him.  He was a handsome man, tall, well built with jet black hair that covered the nape of his neck and he had the most amazing green eyes.  He was in his mid-forties but looked at least ten years younger.

They got married a couple of months after they met.  Mick tried to be a good Dad to Jolene but she no part of it.  In the beginning they were like cats and dogs with each other but now they seemed to tolerate each other, although the animosity was still there.  She had misgivings about leaving them alone but she was glad for the break.

The sound of a car horn, alerted her and galvanized her.  “Loreen’s here,” she announced unnecessarily.  “Well, you have enough food to last you until I come back on Sunday.”  She went over to Jolene and hugged her.  “You behave yourself, Missy.”

Jolene pursed her lips.  “Ma, I ain’t a child, ya know.”

“Oh, I do wish you’d speak better than that.  What I been sending you to school for?”

Mick chuckled.  “She ain’t into book learnin’.  She’s into boys.  Why you think she’s paintin’ her nails?”

Jolene took up the open magazine on the table and threw it at him.  It hit him on the shoulder.  He turned and glared at her.

Darlene shook her head.  “I’m gonna pray for y’all,” she said.  “It’s high time that y’all bury the hatchet.”  She went over to Mick and hugged him.  They kissed and then she pulled away to grab her overnight bag.  “See y’all on Sunday.  Love y’all both.”  And she was out of the room and the house.  Minutes later came the sound of a car driving away.  Silence, except for the television.

Jolene finished painting her nails and held them under the fan until they were dry.  Then, she got up from the table and went over to the sofa where Mick was.  Instead of sitting down next to him, she lowered herself slowly onto his lap.  Smiling, she put her arms around his neck, her bare legs over his long ones.  She felt his body respond.  “You want to bury that hatchet now?” she asked coyly and saw his face flush.

“You’re a little tease, you know that?” he muttered under his breath before he put his arms around her and lowered his head to kiss her.

“All set for a nice Spirit filled weekend?” Loreen asked Darlene as they sailed down the long stretch of road.  “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.

“Yes, I been looking forward to it for weeks, but I was worried about leaving Mick and Jolene alone cause of how things are between them.”

“Don’t worry about them.  I’m sure they’ll be fine.  Mick’s a no nonsense man.  He’ll keep Jolene in line.”

“I hope they’re gonna be all right.”

“I’m sure about it. Now stop worrying.”

Darlene looked out of the window at the landscape and then, she exclaimed, “Oh no!”

“What’s the matter?”

“I forgot to tell Mick that I had a security camera installed yesterday because of all those recent break-ins.”

“You can always call and tell him when we get to the retreat this evening.”

Darlene shook her head.  “No, it can wait until Sunday when I get home.”  She felt better knowing that it the camera was there in the house.  No one could tell that it was hidden behind the wall lamp in the living-room.  Right now it was recording everything that was happening in there.  So, she’d know if Jolene was giving Mick trouble or not.  Jolene.  She worried about her sometimes.  I’m gonna say a special prayer for her and hope that one of these days, she’s gonna give her life to the Lord.

 

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt –  Stark at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Big Mouth

Photo by Jodi McKinney

“What’s the meaning of this?” Audrey demanded after she’d marched over to the television and switched it off.  “Kids, off to bed NOW!”

They scurried past the fish tank, not daring to protest as they usually did.  They could see that Mom was mad.  After casting sympathetic glances at their baby-sitter, Avril, they raced up the stairs and to the safety of their rooms.

Avril stared at Audrey.  “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Audrey was beside herself with rage.  “I walked in here and caught you watching that disgusting show on Netflix.”

“You mean ‘Big Mouth’”

“Yes!  I don’t want my girls watching ungodly shows like that.  This is a Christian home, Avril.  If you can’t abide by the rules, then I will find someone else who can.”

Avril’s face suffused with color.  “Sorry, Mrs. Miller.  It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Audrey’s rage subsided.  “Make sure it doesn’t.  Good night.”

“Good night, Mrs. Miller.”

As she walked down the sidewalk, Avril texted her boyfriend, I got busted this time.

175 Words

I read recently that the controversial Netflix series, Big Mouth, is promoting abortion to teens.  The series, rated TV-MA, follows a group of tweens and teens going through puberty and is filled with coarse language and sex jokes.  Understandably, parents are upset.  I thought I would write a story based on this.

This was written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. For more information visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

 

Source:  Christian Headlines

Cai

Photo by Gah Learner

Cai stared at the moon as it hung low over the horizon.  Sleep eluded her.  Her husband, Huan was in Myanmar investigating the Rohingya massacre.  Five days had passed since she last heard from him.  She constantly checked her emails and cell for messages but nothing was forthcoming.

A knock on the door jolted her.  Heart racing, she answered it.  It was Kang, Huan’s brother.  “Have you heard from Huan?  Is he all right?”

“He’s in jail.”

“Jail?” 

“Yes.  For seven years.”

“I must do something.”

“Like what?”

“Ask the Myanmar government for mercy.”

Hours later, she was on Television.

100 Words

This post was inspired by the true story of two Myanmar journalists who were sentenced to seven years in prison for investigating violence against Rohingyas.  Their wives were on television asking for mercy.

This was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  For  more details, visit Here.   To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  DW; CNN

Mateo

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

The framed shirt of soccer icon Diego Maradona hanging on the wall was a painful reminder of what happened several weeks ago.  In a parking lot of a bar in Medellín, her fiancé Mateo was gunned down because he scored an own goal which led to his team’s elimination from the World Cup.  Their wedding was to take place later that year.  He was only 25.  In memory of his death, his older brother, Santiago founded the Mateo Garcia Project to help disadvantaged children learn to play soccer.

She sat in a sports bar in New York City, surrounded by soccer fans preparing to watch the match between France and Argentina.  She avoided looking at the television set.

She glanced at her watch.  Santiago should be here any minute.  It was his idea to come here for brunch.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he apologized when he joined her.  “Traffic was heavy.”

“You’re not late,” she said.  “I came five minutes ago.”

“How’re you, Valeria?”

“Mateo Jr. and I are doing fine,” she said, patting her stomach.

Santiago looked regretful.  “His Dad should be here.”

“He is here,” she said, covering her heart.  “Where he will always be.”

 

196 Words

 

This was inspired by the true story of Andres Escobar who lost his life when he scored an own goal in the World Cup 1994 match between Colombia and the United States.  It was written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction.  For more details visit Here.

To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  Wikipedia