Stream of Consciousness Saturday

JusJoJan the 9th – Entitled (#SoCS)

“I really hate blind dates,” said Gertrude as she sat across the table from her blind date in a posh restaurant with candles on every table. She dug in to her baked potato as though it was a mound of dirt, piled beside an open grave. Clearly she was more the drive-thru type.

“Then why did you come?” Victor asked reasonably.

Gertrude shrugged her neon green fleece-clad shoulders. “Never had lobster before.”

Victor had an idea. “You know, if they don’t cook the lobster enough it will come back to life and bite you.”

His date dropped her fork. With a clatter it bounced off the plate and onto the floor. Victor plucked his napkin off his lap and dabbed the corner of his mouth as he stared at her plate. “I think I saw it twitch.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No. Seriously. I…” He stopped a passing waiter – the one who had, in fact, placed their meals on the table. “Did you see that?”

“See what, Sir?”

“I think the lady’s lobster is still alive.”

He saw a slight grin on the waiter’s face. “Oh dear, not again. I’ll inform the chef.”

“Get someone out here to catch it first, would you?” Victor said. “I think it’s going to jump.”

With that, Gertrude stood. The waistband of her track pants caught the tablecloth and lifted it, flipping the plate clean off the table onto the floor. She ran, shrieking from the restaurant. Victor didn’t follow her.

“Thanks, mate,” he said to the waiter. “I’ll add a little extra to the tip.”

“Not at all, Sir,” said the waiter as he hurried off to find someone to catch the lobster, which was presently chasing off the remaining women diners.

Note: Other than the title of this post, it had nothing to do with the title of anything at all.

The “title” prompt is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here to join in today!

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And also running right now is Just Jot It January! Click to join in any time!

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JusJoJan the 2nd – Haiku Paw-Pause (#SoCS)

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Suspended mid romp
paws pause to slumber and yet
dreams twitch them beyond

The “pause/paws” prompt is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here to join in today!

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And also running right now is Just Jot It January! Click to join in any time!

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In Store – #SoCS

Come in

See what’s in store

for your amusement

come through the door

take all your money

place it right here

you know your friends want it

even more than a beer

Our wares are to die for

just look at them there

a ripped away pocket

a thin lock of hair

More juicy and flea ridden

I think you’ll agree

The moth-eaten clothing

Is better than free

So buy with abandon

Take home what you need

Your friends will be gleeful

For the free-for-all feed!

 

This mess has been brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click this link http://lindaghill.com/2015/12/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-1915/ and join in today!socs-badge-2015

Mr. Strange

Mr. Strange was the normalest person he himself knew. He shaved every morning and put on his suit and went to work as an accountant in a perfectly normal firm downtown. He drove a Lexus and he lived in a three bedroom bungalow by himself with his dog and his cat and his three fish. The bodies buried in the basement didn’t count as other people. They were corpses.

***

Miss Harper enjoyed the company of Mr. Strange very much. She was a secretary at the firm in which he worked. She lived downtown a few blocks from the company in an apartment on the fifth floor. She didn’t drive, but she had admired Mr. Strange’s Lexus and even said so once. She was hoping he would invite her out to dinner.

***

Mr. Tarvell was Mr. Strange’s boss. He always thought there was something odd about Mr. Strange, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He knew his secretary, Miss Harper, had a “thing” for Mr. Strange and he wanted to say something but he didn’t quite know how.

***

Mr. Strange’s dog wouldn’t stop trying to get into the basement. He thought about giving the dog to Miss Harper, the secretary at work. She seemed lonely. Perhaps he would invite her over.

***

Miss Harper’s first visit to Mr. Strange’s house was an event that surpassed every event that she had ever had in her life. On the outside, Mr. Strange was a kind man. Gentle, it seemed. In fact he was the normalest man she had ever had the pleasure of working with. However, they had barely started into dessert when he swooped everything off the table, the table cloth included, and crawled over to her and kissed her passionately. They never made it to the bedroom. He made love to her under the dining room table, her head banging on one of the chair legs each time he thrust into her. She took a taxi home. She couldn’t wait to see him again.

***

Mr. Tarvell noticed a strange smell on Miss Harper’s clothes the next day. It seemed, somehow, that she had gotten moldy. Like she had spent the night in the refrigerator, cuddled up to a basket of rotting strawberries. He didn’t want to say anything lest it seem rude.

***

Mr. Strange was the normalest person he himself knew. That he would soon require a bigger basement meant that he would also probably need a new job. A better paying job. A job in a town where no one knew  him. Leaving his present house to the dog seemed the wisest choice he had made in quite some time.

 

This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. It’s only late if you insist on changing the clocks at 2am… http://lindaghill.com/2015/10/30/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-3115/

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#SoCS – How Now?

Pulling
Pushing
Manipulating me and yet you seem to sit centered
Unmoving
Smiling
With your magnifying glass like a student of ant life
Studying
Probing
My mind for ways to tease and torture while I’m
Running
Avoiding
Your sunbeam prism ray
Scorching
Searching
For the best way to leave me
Pleading
Pleasing
Or trying my best to because you bring out the
Begging
Simpering
Bitch in me with your
Pushing
Pulling

Stream of Consciousness Saturday is brought to you by me, here: http://lindaghill.com/2015/10/09/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-1015/ Check it out!

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SoCS – Root

“Dig,” she thought as she shoved the spade into the ground again.

“Dig, dig, dig, dug. Doug. It’s Doug I should be digging for. To hell with this root.”

But the root had been the bane of her existence since she moved into the house. Because it was more than a root. It was a stump. The stump of a tree that had been cut down maybe a century ago. God knew what was below it – maybe there was a cemetery down there, like in Poltergeist.

Chunk, went the spade. Chunk, chunk ching!! She hit something. Getting down onto her hands and knees she dug with her fingers until she uncovered something silver. Something shiny. A treasure! Could it be that all this work had made her rich?

With renewed determination she stood and wielded the shovel once again. The silver box was small – it didn’t take much to dig around it. But it was deep, like a tiny coffin that had been buried lengthways. By the time she reached the bottom of it, Doug had come home.

“Hey asshole,” she called to him. “Can you come and help me with this?”

“Go fuck yourself,” he muttered as he marched from the car to the house. He slammed the door behind him.

“Just a little wider,” she mumbled to herself. “And he’ll fit right in.”

***

Two weeks later…

The house had been deathly quiet for so long that it seemed as though noise had given up on her. Doug had woken up while she was still filling in the hole, but she took care of that with the spade. The silver box was the final nail in his makeshift coffin – or lack thereof. It was the deciding factor. Not only did she have the means to cover up what she’d done thanks to her discovery, she wouldn’t have to share whatever was in the box with him. Or anyone else.

It took three days to pry the lid off the box and then another day to figure out what was in it. A pair of glowing orbs, like cat’s eyes lay in the bottom, which was five feet from the top. Tipping it hadn’t worked, nor had turning it upside down. Now the object sat on the table in front of her. It had climbed out on its own it seemed, after she went to bed.

The object – what could she call it? A cat-box? – refused to move from the table. It smelled like toast in the morning, a chicken sandwich at lunchtime, and a steak at dinner. But every time she made something to eat, her food would disappear. Into thin air. The only thing it didn’t touch was her coffee and her booze.

She couldn’t leave the house; she was slowly starving to death. Except.

Every day for the past seven days there had been a note on the table when she woke up in the morning. The note read: if you’re hungry, dig up Doug.

 

This creepy tale is brought to you by SoCS. Click here and join in! Anyone can do it!  http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-1915/

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SoCS – The Light in His Eyes

It wasn’t that Melissa didn’t like Teddy. It was the light in his eyes when he looked at her that she couldn’t abide. Half the time it made her feel as though she might be stuck with a man who followed her around like a pesky dog for the rest of her breathing days, and the other half of the time his glint-gaze gave her the creeps. She was afraid if she gave in and decided to sleep with him (finally) she might never wake up.

The one time she tried to end it it had been raining. She stood at the precipice of a puddle and he stood in it. She couldn’t help but wonder if his shoes were filled with water. How could she break up with a man with wet feet? Melissa may have been many things, but heartless wasn’t one of them.

So she decided to write him a poem. To let him down from a distance, where she wouldn’t know if he was standing in a puddle like a pathetic, gallant clown. Her first attempt was a limerick:

There once was a girl we won’t mention
Who was getting far too much attention
She was getting the creeps
When he said, ‘it’s for keeps’

But Melissa couldn’t come up with another word that rhymed with ‘attention,’ so she tried another:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I’m breaking up with you.

It seemed far too abrupt. And if she was going to be abrupt, why not just text him with the news? She tried:

Dear Teddy. I can’t see you any more. Your eyes are weird. Love, Melissa.

but she didn’t want to lead him on with the words ‘dear’ and ‘love.’

So in the end she simply approached him with a bucket of cold water, threw it at him and told him to figure it out for himself.

Melissa’s only regret is that she might have put his light out for good. Someone else should definitely have had the benefit of that light. Someone more deserving.

This post is part of SoCS: http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/04/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-515/

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socs – blind

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by blinding me you have sensitized my surroundings. you breathe in my ear and my skin reaches for the air; gooseflesh tingles, lights a fire in my heart. the ground beneath me trembles, or so it seems. i feel you around me. i know you’re there. and then, suddenly, your mouth is on mine. your tongue licks my lips.

i need not light; when you are here i have everything.

 

this post is part of socs: http://lindaghill.com/2014/11/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-november-1514/

SoCS – Memory

A picture,
the scent on the clothes you left behind,
and a memory
is all I have left.

She places the photograph on the table beside the mirror in her bedroom and stands back to look at it. The frame is guilt and the image is one of profound regret. A ball forms in her chest, a balloon of grief waiting to burst.

But the time is not right. She can’t let it go. Not yet. There are many things to do; arrangements to be made, people to see, hands to shake, and mouths to feed. Explanations to be invented.

And then there was the private eye to take care of. He knows everything.

Her political aspirations can afford no compromise.

badge by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

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This post is part of SoCS! Join in now! http://lindaghill.com/2014/10/31/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-november-114/

SoCS – The Second I Saw You

I knew the second I saw you that you would be mine. You might say it is cliche, but it’s true. My mind immediately raced to our wedding day – that I would place my ring on your finger and that in the spectators at our marriage day would be four or five of my ex-wives, bickering and scratching one another.

Catcalls from the orchestra section would be drowned out by the love, ringing in our ears and bells would tinkle above us. Oh the gloriousness of our child-bearing years! Our first-born would look just like me, or perhaps my sixth ex-wife, as by then I would be fooling around on you because you put on a few pounds from the many desserts I demanded you bake for me.

Now, my love, I stand in line at the seventh cashier from the right where I’ve followed you with my shopping cart from the frozen food aisle. I need only touch your arm.

We were meant to be. I know it in my heart.

 

This stream of consciousness fiction piece is part of SoCS. Click on the link and join in the fun!
http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/09/26/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-september-2714/

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badge by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions