Bound and Displayed

Darcy grabbed her purse and headed out the door, wondering what this Friday night had in store. She was on her way to meet up with some friends at the Neon Moon, an out of the way bar known for its stiff drinks and loud music. “Just what the doctor ordered“, she thought.

Climbing in her M5, she rolled down the windows, turned up the music and hit the gas. Lights streamed by as she sped down the highway out of town. She thrived on living her life with reckless abandon – always looking for a quick fix of happiness, even if it was for the briefest of moments.

Darcy had also resolved to not think about Jack tonight. His intuitiveness was striking a nerve and she wasn’t sure how she felt about their similarities or how close they were getting. While Jack was invigorating,  she wasn’t used to how she felt around him. Hell, she wasn’t used to feeling anything at all! Darcy had always survived by blaming others for her problems. Her short comings were never her own. It had always been easier to put the blame on everyone else than to see the true ugliness that lived inside of her.

She made her way to the door. The Neon Moon was already packed but Darcy had no difficulty finding her friends in the bar. Thankfully they had already ordered her a double gin and tonic. It was extra chilled and its smooth texture was immensely refreshing, especially after the hellacious week she had. She finished it within seconds and moved in for round two.

After several hours of talking and dancing, Darcy was finally experiencing a sense of calm. Maybe it was just the booze, but the feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge were skillfully pushed out of her mind. As she made her way to the bar for a refill a man she didn’t recognized grabbed her arm and spun her towards him.

“Care to dance?”

Darcy yanked her arm free in disgust. Did this guy honestly think she wanted anything to do with him? “Seriously?!? You have got to be kidding right?

“I don’t kid. And if I were you, I would get your tone in check.”

With a huff of disgust she whipped back around towards the bar. “What – ever!”

The music was loud, reverberating through every crevice of the bar. As she pulled her wallet out of her purse she noticed she had five missed calls on her phone. Her heart instantly jumped as she saw all the calls were from – Jack. Trying to fighting the urge to not call him she succumbed to her inner voice and walked outside. With all the alcohol coursing through her veins she would be able to talk a big game, play it off like she didn’t really care. “I’ll show you I can take care of myself“, she muttered as she hit redial. But suddenly, as she lifted her phone to her ear, everything went black. The last thing she heard was Jack’s muffled voice,  “Hello? Darcy? Darcy?? Are you there?”

Her head was throbbing as she laid face down….. well, somewhere. Obviously she was over served last night. Where am I? As she tried to rub her temples a shooting pain seared through her body, yet she was unable to move. As she slowly regained consciousness she tried again, only to feel pain and resistance on her wrists and ankles. Holy hell! I’m hog-tied!!

“Care to dance now?”

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, SAM gave me this prompt: Hog-tied at the Neon Moon.

I gave Lance this prompt: Write about a heart that wouldn’t quit.

Do you know the Miracle Man?

He quietly lurked in the darkness, just out of the light so as not to be detected. He stood there – watching. He was always watching. Waiting for the most opportune time to…. Hmmmm, just what does he do? What is he waiting for?

Some say he is a man of opportunity while others, well, others are not as generous in their use of words. One thing is certain – everyone knows of him yet few truly know him. While he enjoys his solitude most evenings, some nights he craves the affection of another. Some nights he wishes for companionship, a warm body to share time with.

Suddenly something catches his eye. A slight movement that brings instant intrigue. He pauses for a moment and wonders if it is worth his time. He was quite enjoying this special hiding place and was disheartened to give it up so soon.

He was instantly captivated by her. She moved slow and deliberate, not acknowledging his existence. This intentional obliviousness deeply pained him. But he had plans for her, plans that would make her realize he was there.

She paused in the street light, looking for something off in the distance. It was this thoughtless action that would cost her. It was this deed that allowed him to strike.



A World Lost

sassy irish lassieThe morning sun reaches into my room, pushing its way through every crack and opening it can find. A thick beam has intentionally sought out and captured my face, forcing me out of my peaceful slumber.

I roll over, looking for a bit of darkness, but I am met with even more sun.

Arrrgh…. What’s a girl gotta do around here to sleep in?

As I lazily stretch, I contemplate the pros and cons of staying in bed all day. If it weren’t for my nephew Declan’s birthday party, I would have easily succumbed to the temptation my bed was presenting.

Oddly, for some strange reason this morning, my room seemed overly luminous. I obviously had one too many martinis the night before and my eyes were playing tricks on me. That or they wanted me to go back to bed. My subconscious wanted to choose the latter.

Painfully rolling out of bed, I shuffled my way to the kitchen to get some coffee started. Even with the shades drawn it was overly bright and cheery in my living room.

Damn those martinis.

With my coffee started I made my way to the drapes in the living room. I pulled them apart and was immediately blinded by a rush of sunlight. Shading my eyes with my hand in an attempt to block out some of the glare, I tried desperately to get my eyes to focus. There was just so much light. Ever so slowly my eyes became adjusted to the intense light. I squinted, perplexed by the landscape in front of me.

What the…..

Disbelief engulfed like a flood. I immediately ran to the door. Surely my eyes are playing tricks on me. Or perhaps I am dreaming? Yes, that’s it. Just one crazy, martini binge induced dream. For this, could not be possible.

For there before my eyes was – absolutely nothing. My neighborhood had simply vanished. Gone were the other houses, gone were the cars in the driveways, gone were the streets, the trees… Heck, even my annoying neighbor Mrs. Fitzsimmons was gone. All I could see for miles and miles was grass, crayon green vibrant grass.

Every color was vivid and incandescent. So brilliant it was blinding, yet I couldn’t look away. As I tried to comprehend my new surroundings I noticed something off in the distance. It’s color stood out against the densely colored grass.

Fighting every instinct inside of me that told me to go back in the house, I walk towards it. The grass was velvety soft, with each step dissipating more and more of my fears. As I approached the object I realized I was approaching the back of a chair. Odd, yet given my current circumstances, it seemed totally appropriate.

The chair seemed small amidst the vast green field. As it came closer, I noticed two tiny feet hanging below the seat, dangling freely.

Taking a deep breath and summoning every last bit of courage I had I yelled out, “Hello??

“Ahhh, you finally found me. Come here my darling. We have so much to discuss.”

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, kgwaite gave me this prompt: “You step out of the front door and your entire world has changed.”

I gave Diane this prompt: “Create a news story with this headline: Beer-Crazed Elephants Face Execution!”

Going Down To Cowtown

sassy irish lassieSam paced through the apartment, beside herself with rage. She had already cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. She always cleaned when she was angry, a trait she inherited from her mother.

He said he was just going to grab a quick beer with Brian after work. He said he would be home shortly. But that was nine hours ago! Where the hell was he? I swear if Chad is not dead I am going to ring his neck, she thought as she scrubbed the kitchen counter for the second time that evening.

A rustling of keys and off tune singing jarred Sam out of her mental tirade. She threw down the Clorox bottle and stomped towards the door just as Chad burst through still singing some godawful song.

“Sammy baby! How’s my gorgeous girl?”

Gorgeous girl? Are you freaking kidding me! Do you have any idea what time it is? Where the hell have you been?

“Well, I was with Brian my love, just where I told you I was,” drunkenly nodding.

You told me you were going for a drink. A. Drink. Chad.”

“Well yeah… but then…..” Chad swivelled on his heel and fell to the couch. “Then, the the band came!”

The band came?!? And this is the reason you weren’t answering your phone? The reason you didn’t have the common decency to call?”

“Oh yeah, my phone. Where is my phone?” Chad continued singing his song while he searched through all his pockets. “It’s not here!” As if shocked by the revelation.

Sam couldn’t even begin to process what was unfolding in front of her. Chad got off from the couch and began to get undressed as he made his way towards the bedroom – still singing his song about cows.

“Oh I’m going down to cowtown cause he’s a friend to me. Lives beneath the ocean right where I can be.”

What on earth are you singing?” Sam demanded as she followed behind, picking up all his dirty clothes.

“A song from the band honey. Isn’t it great?!”

As Sam stormed away to clean the kitten’s litter box she shouted, “No, it is not great. It is one of the dumbest songs I have ever heard!” Sam walked back towards the bedroom, litter scoop in hand, “And if I ever….”

But Chad was already passed out on the bed.


For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Jester Queen gave me this prompt: Chad followed me from room to room singing his cow song while I picked up dirty laundry and cleaned litter boxes.

I gave Diane this prompt: Use this metaphor to spark a poem or short story: a chest of childhood.


sassy irish lassie

He had been counting down to this day for what felt like an eternity. He had every detail, down to the color of the napkins, planned. Paul had just repacked the picnic basket for the third time. He had to make sure everything he needed was in there for his date with Natalie. With on quick glance in the hallway mirror, he straightened his color and was out the door.

He arrived at Natalie’s condo in record time, partially due to the lack of traffic and mostly due to the anxiety which produced a very lead laden foot.

Natalie opened the door as Paul walked up. Her green eyes were piercing against the emerald and turquoise in her sundress.

“Hi Pauly!” she said coyly.

“Hey gorgeous! Wow…. you look amazing! Are you about ready to go?”

“Yep. Just let me grab my purse.”

Paul was quick to admire how the fabric of Natalie’s dress clung to her waist and hips. He could easily picture the curve of her waist, the softness of her lower back, the…..

“Paul… Paul!? I was asking if you needed me to grab a blanket. Is everything okay?”

He chuckled. “Oh, most definitely. I was admiring the view while you were getting your purse.”

Natalie shook her head and sighed. “Paul I swear! What am I going to do with you?”

He placed his hands on her hips and quickly pulled her towards him. “I have an idea”, he whispered in her ear, gently kissing her neck.

“Well I hope you idea involves food because I am starving!”

“Well I am definitely not the type of man to get between a woman and her food!”

Paul grabbed her hand and headed towards the car.

“So are you going to tell me where we are going yet? I have been trying to figure it out for days!”

My lips are sealed my love. You are just going to have to wait and see.”

Paul pulled out on the highway and began his trek to the coast. They had gone to Wrightsville for a long weekend about a year ago to celebrate Natalie’s birthday. She had brought it up several times over the past year so he knew they had to go back/

As he pulled off towards the exit for Hwy 74 Natalie gasped. “Are we going back to Wrightsville??”


A smile quickly spread across her face as they continued down Hwy 74. Oh, if she only knew he thought.

They pulled in the parking lot and began unloading the car. Natalie grabbed the blanket and the radio while Paul pulled the cooler out of the trunk. As they walked towards the beach he noticed the sky had grown cloudy with dark foreboding clouds lurking in the distance. Paul cursed under his breath at Mother Nature. The Weather Channel said nothing about rain today.

Natalie had spread out the blanket and was futzing with the radio dial while Paul began setting out some cheese and grape. The winds were picking up, making it difficult for Natalie to find a good station.

“Don’t worry about it love. Here let’s toast…..”

Out of nowhere the skies opened up and began to pour. Paul scrambled to get everything back in the basket but as he did a small red box tumbled out onto the blanket. Natalie glanced down at the box and then quickly looked up at Paul, eyes wide with anticipation as the rain drenched them both.


“Natalie, this is not what I had planned. In fact, this is everything I didn’t have planned. But there is one thing I do know will always be, my love for you.” Paul dropped to his knee as the rain drops began to multiply in their intensity.

“Natalie, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?”

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Diane gave me this prompt: The perfect picnic.

I gave Amy I. Bloom this prompt: Weave a story around this mixed proverb: “Bad news cures all things.”