Friday, August 28, 2015

In Season

A group of friends meets up for a discussion. by kamuimaru in SimplePrompts


June 28, 2015

Platters of cheese, crackers, chopped veggies and dip cluttered all the available surface space. Summer maneuvered a crock of salsa onto the crowded coffee table keeping an eye on the basket of corn chips sliding precariously close to the edge.

The timer in the kitchen began beeping at the same time that the doorbell rang.

"It's open!" she called as she flounced into the kitchen. She could hear the door opening. She grabbed her thick oven mitts and slid one on each hand. She opened the oven and inhaled the heat and scents of cooking pie. The filling had pooled up over parts of the crust and bubbles popped thickly, releasing the scent of hot peaches and cinnamon.

"Holy crap, Summer, there's only four of us coming, you made enough for the Russian Army," said the voice from the living room. Still holding the pie, Summer poked her head in and smiled at Spring, who was hanging his coat on the rack next to door.

"I get excited when it's my turn," she said. He looked at her pie and shook his head with a smile.

"Will you put it down, so I can give you a proper hug. And turn off the damn oven, you're the only one who likes it this hot," he said.

Summer slid the pie onto a cooling rack near a window, and pushed the button on the oven. When she re-entered the living room, she flipped the switch for the ceiling fan and then Spring had caught her up in a hug. He spun her around and she laughed.

"Well, you look wonderful, woman," he said setting her down and patting her cheek.

"Aw, thanks," she said, her cheeks turning pink. And despite the fan, the temperature in the room rose at least five degrees.

"Stop it, or I stop complimenting you," he said, but he smiled. "I would have thought I'd have been last. Where're Winter and Autumn?"

"Beer run. Sorry, bud - you're always late," she said. "Hey, try the goat cheese spread. I got it at that farmer's market you told me about."

The door burst open and Winter, her arms laden with paper bags that clinked as she moved. A sharp breeze followed her into the house.

"Spring finally made it!" she cried over her shoulder.

"Ha! I knew he'd show up when we went for the beer. It's the only way to get him to show up," said a deep voice from behind Winter.

They put the bags down and hugs were doled out and backs were slapped. Winter gave spring a gentle kiss on the cheek and she smiled as warmly as she was able.

"Summer, that place is amazing. If I lived here, I'd be broke. Did you know they had Balvenie 21?" Autumn asked, holding up the bottle.

Summer had grabbed a platter with some tumblers, ice cubes and spritz.

"You like it neat," she said and Autumn nodded and did a small little jig. Which was impressive for a man of his size. "I brought you some dates from when I visited Spain. To die for!"

Everyone picked up a small plate and filled them with snacks. Cups were filled with beers and wine and scotch. Finally each one plopped into an oversize chair. Stories were punctuated by explosions of laughter, at one point Spring was clutching his stomach trying to recover from the story Autumn had told about cows on a farm that had somehow managed to start one of the combines and started a stampede.

Summer rested her head on Winter's shoulder while Spring and Autumn went to get the deck of cards.

"It's been forever," said Winter, running her fingers through Summer's hair, that would shimmer gold or green or wildflowers.

"We all get so busy," said Summer, enjoying the sensation of cool fingers playing with her hair.

Plates were filled and emptied and filled again. Eventually the pie was sliced and handed out.

Autumn took the first bite and rolled his eyes up and sighed.

"Summer, dear, wars will be fought over your Peach Pie," he said and Summer giggled.

They played cards and everyone got quite drunk. And the hour grew late and then early again and Summer could feel it when it was time to end it and had to dab her eyes on her apron.

"I know, honey. I hate it when it's time to go," said Spring and even his eyes seemed overbright. She hugged him too hard, but he didn't mind, patting her back and pretended not to hear her little hiccough sobs.

He put on his cloudy coat, clasped Autumn's arm, gave Winter a quick kiss and slipped out.
Autumn took her hand and kissed it. "I love it when it's your turn, my dear."

His coat seemed to catch on fire as he donned it, and he waved over his shoulder as he left.

"It will be my turn next," said Winter. Summer hugged her.

"I can't wait," she said.

Friday, August 21, 2015

Scattered Showers

[WP] Gold at the ends of natural rainbows is real.


6/14/2015
June 14, 2015

“A 10-00 has been spotted,” Sally said, her voice sounding tinny over the radio. She gave the location and static hissed as she disconnected.

I swore under my breath as I hit the button to turn on the blues, I had to swing a one-eighty to head towards Everitt’s Peak where the rainbow had been seen. I was on a hill and I could already see the traffic surging up the mountain. I grabbed the hand-set.

“325 Hanover, is anyone in the vicinity of Everett?” I asked. Last I knew, Henries was trying to scoff a burrito at Nickky’s Diner and Dominic was tied up with a domestic across town.

“Negative, 325. You’re the closest unit.”

“Fuck,” I said to myself. Pressing the handset button I acknowledged. I floored it and activated the siren.

I passed three accidents, radioing them in to rescue, but not bothering to stop. Two of the cars were empty and I could see the former occupants running down the road with their eyes on the rainbow that was bent over Everitt’s Peak.

One or two cars yielded to the lights and siren, but I had to PITT more than one, watching them career into the bushes. It made the newspapers happy whenever we ditched someone – they loved to talk about how we drive people off the road, but I had yet to see a reporter actually at the point of contact, so until that happened – or until Sarge decided I needed to cool it, the ditch it was. But I wasn’t the only one ditching cars. One car was on its roof, with someone pulling themselves out of the smoking wreck and walking on crooked legs up the hill.
I didn’t look too long. Had to focus.

Five minutes and I was at ground zero. Not bad, all things considered. I hit the release on my shotgun and exited the cruiser. There was at least one person ahead of me. The rain pattered softly in the dirt, and the smell of wet tarmac was sweet in my nostrils. I used to love the smell of rain, now it just reminded me of death.

The colors that touched the ground seemed to saturate everything they touched. Trees touched by the red, became crimson – root, branch and leaf. I found myself bathed in indigo, and it smelled of fresh breezes and lavender. I saw a woman ahead of me, sinking her hands into the cauldron. Next to her was the body of a teenage boy. The wound at his throat was ragged and still pulsed with blood.

“Hands in the air!” I called, my voice cracking across the silence.

She looked at me, her eyes wild, like an animal, and her lips peeled back from her teeth. But her hands never moved from the cool gold, smearing it in red.

“It’s mine!” she snarled.

“Drop it,” I said, my finger moving to the trigger. She lunged at me, and as the shotgun kicked in my arms the rain let up.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Water Marks

[WP] A short Horror story. Something to chill the bones in one hundred words or less.Writing Prompt (self.WritingPrompts) submitted 13 hours ago by AidanTheSmith


June 9, 2015

The wheel was pressed too far into her ribs and every breath, no matter how shallow, radiated waves of agony from deep inside her chest.

She could see, but the light was wrong. The noise of rushing, bubbling water muted other noises. She couldn’t feel her feet, but suddenly she registered the water that was rising up past her chest. So cold.

When she tried to move, the wheel, the belt and the pain kept her from moving more than a few inches.

She saw movement in the mirror, and sick panic rose with the water.

“Mama, get me up! Up!”

Friday, August 7, 2015

Spring in Maine

[WP] Go outside for ten minutes. Describe what's there in vivid detail.Writing Prompt (self.WritingPrompts) submitted 6 hours ago by Glarks


May 23

Even sitting in the sun, the day is a little cool when the wind blows. But it's worth it, just to feel it on my skin for a few minutes while the kids are upstairs - not napping, but not screaming either.

The porch holds on to the echos of the children's play - rocks piled and organized near the step; a small hula-hoop circles itself, a little 'O' of nothing on the planks; push cars plopped akimbo where they stopped for snack. But it's quiet, save for the breeze which tickles the wind-chimes and the new blossoms on the apple tree. A car or two meanders by on the road.

The leaves on the tree still look new and fragile. The sun seeps through them and they glow, like stained glass. The lawn is wild, with heaps of dandy-lions roaring at the birds. A fat bee bumbles through the pride, landing on each flower. Its so heavy the blossoms wobble as it sips at the nectar, smearing pollen on its head and legs.

Small, red capped birds peck at the ground, eating bugs or seeds or the leftovers from the kids picnics. They are far too trusting, considering the murderous leanings of the cat. He mews, and lopes over when he sees me, flopping on the dusty steps and rolling over for a scratch. The birds, seeing him, head for higher ground and peep at us from the trees. They won't last long at this rate, he's brought down faster, smarter birds. But for now, he lets me scratch his chin and tries to sit on my lap. But he can never stay for long, since he kneads my legs with needling claws and I have to shove him off, and scritch his ears instead.

The wind-chimes toll sweetly in the breeze, and I shiver and smile.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Weather

(The SCBWI Write This! prompt for August. I didn't make the cut for the top 20. But the ones that did were phenomenal.)

Yet, there it was: snow everywhere, piled in heaps and smeared over cars, sidewalks, and rooftops like thick, heavy glue. Branches bent towards breaking and cars skidded and slid on the roads, sinking into snow banks. The lights went out.


We weren’t going anywhere.