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.

The 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!”

Sam 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.