Our house sat back from the road. While the cottage was small in size, it had been perfect for just the two of us, and the occasional visitor. She had been the one to find this beauty. After searching for days I was ready to call it quits, but Molly had other plans. She knew our dream home was out there – she could feel it. Molly could always ‘feel‘ things, it was her gift. Sigh….

I looked around, not quite sure what to do next. I had moved all of our chairs into the parlor in preparation for receiving guests. I had no doubt that everyone in town would make an appearance today.

The clatterings in the kitchen became more frantic as Molly’s sister tried to hurry through her list of duties before the guests began to arrive.

“Be a dear Jack and check on Molly would ya?” she bellowed from the kitchen.

I walked down the hall to our bedroom. I took a deep breath as I turned and entered our room. I had taken extra care when getting Molly ready. Even like this, she still took my breath away.

She had on her, and my, favorite black dress that she would always wear for very special occasions. I remember the way she would whisk up her hair and coyly ask me to zip up the back, even though she was perfectly capable of doing it herself. She also had on her Grandmother’s pearl earrings, Molly never went anywhere without them, and her….. What?!? Where was it?

I frantically searched for the simple cross I had given her on our wedding day. She refused to ever take it off. As I turned, I noticed it sitting in the nightstand beside her. In the chaos of the day I must have forgotten to put it back on her as I laid her out.

I adjusted the candles at both ends of the bed and straightened the scarf covering the mirror in our room.

Now we are ready, I thought to myself. But am I really ready?

As the day wore on I was instantly drawn back to the days of our youth. She had been everything to me; wife, mother, best friend…. I can’t imagine my life without her.

“To Molly!!” I shouted as I raised my pint in my beautiful wife’s honor. “An amazing woman was she. Never one to think of herself first, a romantic and lover of life. A feisty lass with a really great ass! Sláinte!!”

For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Head Ant challenged me with “How would you like to be remembered when you are gone?” and I challenged Grace O’Malley with “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw him standing under the street light…”.

What a day, I thought as I placed my purse on the table and fell into my favorite overstuffed red chair. Horus quickly pounced, seeking his daily dose of affection, and began to nuzzle and purr in my lap. I attempted to kick off my shoes but my feet and ankles were too swollen from standing all day at the museum.

“Sigh…. Well I guess they will just have to stay on for now Horus.”

As I leaned back to put my feet up, a striking blow to my right side sent me bolting upright and sent poor Horus flying to the floor with a thud. I rubbed my side and was greeted with another round of attacks. Obviously the baby was trying to stretch and was not enjoying the small confines of my womb.

“Seriously kid, you’re killing me!”

I began to mindlessly rub my over-sized belly, pondering just what the contents contained. We had decided to wait and not find out the gender of the baby, but with the due date quickly approaching, my imagination was getting the best of me.

A sudden clatter from the other room quickly snapped me out of my internal baby gender debate. “Horus – is that you? What did you get into now!?”

I heaved myself out of the chair and began to make my way down the dark hallway. The sound of ‘someone’ humming made me stop in my tracks. Jack was in New York till the end of the week and last I checked, Horus couldn’t hum. I felt around for something to arm myself with when a voice greeted me, “Well hello there Molly!”

I tried to scream but all that came out was a hushed “Aack!”

“Oh now, now. Don’t worry. I’m not here to do you any harm.”

I slid along the wall searching for the light switch, still not able to see the man who was talking to me. I finally found the switch and flicked it on but no one was there.

“So Molly, let’s…..”

“Aaah!”

There before me was a …. well, I am actually not quite sure. While he was small like a dwarf, he had a very thick muscular body, full beard and well, a tail.

“Who are you?” I queried.

The dwarf did a little dance, spun around and said, “I’m Bes of course!”

Bes….? My mind reeled back to my graduate studies of Egyptian art. Surely he must be joking. “Bes…. as in the God of Childbirth?”

“The one and only,” he said with a bow.

I began to slowly rub my temples. This was not covered in any of the pregnancy books I had been reading. ”But, but….. I don’t understand. Why are you here? How are you here? Man – I must really be overtired!”

“I am here to protect you and will soon be on my way.”

“Protect me? Protect me from what??”

The sounds of shattering glass echoed through the house as loud footsteps began to move around the kitchen.

Bes unhinged his knife and began to head towards the kitchen. He turned and looked at me with a sly smile. “It has been my pleasure!” he called over his shoulder. And with that, he was gone.

 For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Cedar challenged me with “A chance encounter with the Egyptian god, Bes” and I challenged Dafeenah with “A reporter arrives in town and starts asking strange questions”.

Jasper grasped the reins a little bit tighter as they approached his family’s property line. It was his favorite part of the ride. His Great Grandfather had built the tall white fence around the property when he originally purchased it in the 1800′s, to ‘mark what was rightfully his.’

He remembered many a summer afternoons white washing that God forsaken fence. He also remembered pleading to his father to tear down that ragged ole fence over numerous family dinners, but his father wouldn’t hear of it.

But right now, that old fence was the last hurdle between Shoshana and the open field. Shoshana pulled her head a bit to the right, sensing what was up ahead. They had taken this path countless times before, and while Shoshana was a jumper by heart, she loved running free in the fields.

“Almost there Sho,” Jasper whispered as he patted her neck.

They approached the small clearing before the fence. Jasper nudged the horse with his heels as he leaned forward, anticipating the jump. He squeezed the saddle with his knees and prepared for take off. Shoshana did not disappoint. She lowered her neck and propelled herself over the fence with fluid grace. Shoshana was an award winning stadium jumper. She did it with such an ease and beauty that it was easy to see why she was always a crowd favorite.

Jasper couldn’t wait to race through the open fields but suddenly, that wish went wrong. As Shoshana planted her second foot he heard a sicken crack before being flung through the air. He landed on his shoulder and rolled till he hit a large rock. As Jasper sat up, he saw Shoshana lying on her side, her right front leg grossly mangled and deformed.

When Jasper went back to see what had happened, he noticed a large snake hole in the ground. Shoshana must have caught her right hoof in the hole as she landed, causing it to brake.

Jasper began to sob quietly. He knew there was nothing you could do once a show horse broke its leg. With his head hung low, he began the painfully long walk home to get his father.

For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Debra Elliot challenged me with “The Good, The Bad, The Ugly” and I challenged Snhamlett with “Write from the point of view of a ball of yarn being chased by a cat“.

I sat, huddled in the corner, shivering uncontrollably. The cold dank air had me chilled me to the core. I tried sitting on my heels to get my butt off the damp floor but my legs were falling asleep and the tingling was too much to handle any longer.

Thankfully I had become immune to the stench of the room over the years. Judging by the thin slit of light through the floorboards, I had been down here for just over 8 days. This was the longest I had been left alone. My bucket of water in the corner was dwindling. What was left was rancid and no longer suitable for consumption.

As the days past I found it harder and harder to keep myself entertained. My attempts to befriend the family of mice had left me with only two slices of stale bread. Bread…. Thinking of food made my stomach lurch and rumble. It was the one thing I made sure I never thought about because all it brought was the painful reminder that my stomach was empty.

My favorite activity was watching the dust dance in the occasional stream of sunlight. With the flick of my finger I could pretend to orchestrate their movements, making them swirl here and there, twirling round as they glistened in the daylight. My team of tiny dancers. Oh how I enjoyed joining in, spinning on my toes, pretending to be a prima ballerina. Pretending to be anywhere but here. Pretending to be loved.

Slowly the sun began to set and my room became dark. I took my spot back in corner and grabbed a piece of my stale bread as one silent tear slid down my cheek. Are my parents ever coming home?

For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Cheney challenged me with “Are my parents ever coming home?” and I challenged Lilu with “Begin with, I thought I saw.…”

I woke up feeling more tired and restless than when I had gone to bed the night before. I lumbered my way to the bathroom out of memory because my eyes were still too fogged from lack of sleep to see. As I raised my arms to stretch, I became increasingly aware of the shooting pain running through my body. My muscles were tense and ached like they never have before.

My temples were throbbing as I filled my glass with water. As I shuffled in to the toilet I began to have lucid flashbacks of various dreams I had had the night before. Everything about these dreams was so vivid and full of life and color. Surely if I had all these crazy dreams I should feel at least a little bit rested.

I washed my hands and splashed some cold water on my face. The cold sensation brought some sense of reality into my immediate focus. Man, what I wouldn’t do to be able to crawl back onto bed right about now. How am I going to make it a whole day at the office….

My mind rant was quickly ceased when my eyes tried to grasp the scenery before them. I stood back and took in my surroundings. Surely my eyes were deceiving me. There was no possible way. There was hair everywhere! THIS was definitely not what I was expecting when I walked back into my bedroom.

But how did it get here? Who or what did it come from? An empty bottle of elixir laid on its side on my nightstand. Suddenly, it all started to come back to me….

For this week’s Indie Ink Writing Challenge, I challenged Laura of  We’ll Figure It Out Once We Get More Down, while I was challenged by Amanda of Everything and no one… like the Last Mom on Earth. Her prompt was: There was hair everywhere

For this week’s Indie Ink Writing Challenge, I challenged Sarah of Write My Heart Out while I was challenged by Alisha of Blah Ya Ya. Here is my response:

 Here is my chance – my chance to prove I was one of them. That I’m not afraid of what they stand for. But which should  choose? Wow, am I really that desperate to be a part of their group. Sadly – yes. If I chose ‘truth‘ my answer surely wouldn’t be cool enough, yet if I chose ‘dare‘ the possibilities were endless.

“Come on Ashley! Which is it going to be??” Brooke demanded.

I took a deep breath and wished for the best…. “Dare”.

As I saw Brooke’s eyes glinting with mischief I immediately regretted my decision. Obviously she had something devious in mind, but I was not prepared for just how devious she was about to be.

Brooke clasped her hands underneath her chin and giggled, “I was hoping you would say that!”

She reached out and grabbed my hands. “Oh Ashley, this is going to be SO much fun!”

The knot in my stomach felt like a cannonball. Oh what I wouldn’t do to go back in time. Man I can be so stupid. Why didn’t I just pick truth?? Stupid, stupid, stupid…….

My self loathing session was cut short by Brooke tugging hard on my hand. “Are you listening?!”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry.” I mumbled.

“So you know that girl Chloe? The one you sit by in Algebra?”

No. NO. Anyone but Chloe. “Yes, I know her.” Know her? Of course I know her. She has been my best friend since first grade. Why her? Why…

“Ashley! Snap out of it already! Geez. As I was saying, at lunch today I want you to buy a large chocolate shake with your lunch. Then, go over and pretend to talk to her. When you hear me moo…. are you ready for this? I want you to dump the whole thing on her head. Oh my god, it will be epic!”

My mind was flying a hundred miles a minute. “Really?” I squeaked. “Isn’t there something else I can do?”

Brooke’s eyes narrowed and her voice was cold. “You picked dare. There is no backing out now.”

As I slowly walked with Brooke to the cafeteria, I saw Chloe sitting in our usual spot. I made my way through the lunch line with Brooke incessantly taking the entire time. It took everything in me to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. After I paid for my lunch Brooke began to poke me in the back. “She’s sitting over there. I’m coming with you so I can see her whole reaction up close.”

Great. Now I had no chance of backing out. I walked over and stood next to Chloe. ”Hey Chloe. What’s up?”

“Uh, not much. What’s up with…”

Brooke chimed in before Chloe had a chance to finish, “Hey Chloe. Why don’t you moooove over so we can sit with you?”

I stared blankly at Brooke. “Ashley, I asked your friend to mooove over. Didn’t you hear me?”

I tightened my grasp on the cup. I knew what I was about to do was social suicide. I’d be lucky if anyone talked to me after today. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, lifted my shake above Brooke’s head and wished for the best.

My prompt this week was: Truth or dare. Which do you go with and why?