A blog about whatever randomosity my fevered mind conceives.

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{This is something a little different… while I don’t usually do super shorts (or flash fiction) I’ve really been wanting to try my hand at it a little more lately, so when my daughter came home from school today with a list of writing prompts to work on over spring break, and I felt a twinge of inspiration from the first one on the list (Prompt: A man gets into a cab at the airport) I thought, “What a perfect opportunity.” ~Robin~}

He sat behind the plexiglass partition with his overnight bag on the seat beside him as the cab pulled away from the curb. He gazed out the window without truly seeing the faces in the crowd anymore than they were seeing his. He stared without noticing the fingers of delicate peach coloured light that bounced off the reflective windows, or the perfectly cloudless, early evening sky above. As the airport fell away behind him, his mind still wandered the lonely streets of that Malibu neighbourhood that would forever come to mind whenever he heard the word ‘broken’. And ‘broken’ was exactly what he’d been there.

Just forty-eight hours earlier he’d been a different man.

He’d taken the redeye from Sea-Tac to LAX expecting that she’d be there to meet him; it had been nearly three months since his work had taken him up north; nearly three months since he’d last seen her beautiful face in person; and every second apart had been like torture. As the plane was unloaded he was almost shaking with anticipation, and when he didn’t find her at the gate, he’d just assume she’d been stranded in traffic, but that she’d be along soon. He’d waited as patiently as possible while growing more anxious by the minute. He’d called the house once, twice, a dozen times, and still she didn’t answer. Each time he tried her cell, he got a strange message about the number having been disconnected. After an hour and a half, he finally hailed a cab, gave his home address and called again every five minutes throughout the hour long trip.

The day had been slate gray and the sky had been angry, but not a drop of rain had fallen until the moment he exited the cab and started his way up the cobblestone walk. At the door he hesitated, suddenly nervous for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, but he told himself that he was being ridiculous; she’d be fast asleep in their bed, having failed to set the alarm – she was always forgetting little things like that.

The thought brought a smile to his face. He’d sneak inside and tiptoe upstairs. He’d undress and slip into bed beside her and wake her with his tongue. It would be better this way.

The foyer was dark and silent as he let himself in. He set his bag on the floor and removed his boots before creeping through the house to the stairs. Twice on his way up he thought he heard the house moan around him, and twice he’d paused to pay it heed, but no further sound had followed. At the top of the stairs he heard an anguished groan, and – certain this time that his mind was not playing tricks – his heart leapt into this throat.

Panicked – terrified that something was wrong and no longer concerned with stealth – he raced down the hall and threw open the bedroom door to the sounds of climax. In his room, in his bed, the naked stranger on his wife groaned in ecstasy. Below him, Jenny’s eyes went wide as she shrieked in alarm. The naked stranger rolled deftly off the woman and came up to stand in a defensive pose. On the bed, her eyes still wide, Jenny clutched the sheets up to her chin.

He looked down on her with hurt and disgust warring for control.

The naked stranger; not truly a stranger at all, but a man his beloved had worked with in the past; showed his backside briefly as he yanked open a night table drawer. Half a moment later the barrel of a gun was pointed at his head. He could see that the man was still hard; his penis jiggling awkwardly as he fought to hold his aim.

“What are you doing here?” Jenny asked in a tiny, bewildered voice.

His brow knit together in disbelief. “You were supposed to… meet me. I got… worried.”

Her beautiful features twisted with confusion. “What are you talking about? You shouldn’t be here.”

The naked man wavered, looking uncertainly towards Jenny and then back to him several times. Instinct told him to act, and he threw himself across the distance. He stayed low and weaved slightly as he moved forward. He heard a click but no responding boom. At the moment he collided with the naked man, he realized the safety lock had been engaged, but everything was happening too quickly for him to find relief in that.

He toppled the other man to the ground, landing hard with his knee in the man’s exposed groin, and heard a squeal of pain gurgle from this throat. He wrestled the gun away, scrambled backwards and got his feet back under himself as he rose. He steadied the gun, disengaged the lock, and fired two twice into the intruder’s face.

On the bed, Jenny started shrieking. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. Too shocked to remember modesty, she’d dropped the sheet as her hands fluttered to her mouth.

He’d turned towards her and fired two shots into her chest, and another into her skull. She slammed backwards and tumbled off the bed. He’d rushed to her side, and spent the remainder of the day weeping over her bloody body. That night, he had wandered through neighbourhood letting the rain wash away his tears…  

“Sir? Sir, did you hear me?” The cab driver’s thick accented voice slipped through his reverie.

“No… sorry?”

“Do you mind sir, I turn on radio?” He asked again.

He said that he did not, and pulled the overnight bag closer to his side.

“… further developments in the murder of actress Jennifer Day and her fiancé, actor Chase Drogan… Police confirmed this afternoon that Miss Day’s heart is still in fact missing from the scene… Investigators are currently seeking the whereabouts of Tyler Joseph Banes in connection with the grizzly murders… Day had a restraining order brought against Banes three months ago after the man allegedly showed up on the set of her current movie claiming to be her husband…”

T.J. lifted the bag and hugged it to his chest; within was the only thing he had left of his one, true love.

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22 responses

  1. lookingforapurpose

    I am not commenting about the post i just wanted to say this picture reminded me so much of the 50’s version of the move “Dorian Gray”. Not sure if thats its exact name. If you have ever seen it it is freaky even in black and white the picture looked horrifying.

    March 23, 2012 at 4:16 pm

    • Hmm… I don’t think I’ve ever seen it. I’ll have to look it up.

      March 23, 2012 at 4:20 pm

      • lookingforapurpose

        It may be older than that but i dunno if you will like the movie or not. I’ve only seen it once.

        March 23, 2012 at 4:30 pm

  2. TheOthers1

    Whoa! I… Didn’t expect that. Man, you totally got me with that story. Good grief. Excellent writing.

    March 23, 2012 at 6:14 pm

    • Heh! Really? I thought it was crap dressed over with a good twist. I still need to get the hang of the whole quick-write thing down… Typically I’m the queen of too-many-words, trying to do something without grand embellishments feels like cheating somehow, lol.
      Thanks!

      March 23, 2012 at 6:22 pm

      • TheOthers1

        I politely disagree about this being crap. With shorts, I’ve found that brevity makes the story pop in a crazy way. You choose the words that matter the most and junk the rest. Shorts are nice and have their places ( many an author quote talks about cutting the parts the reader will just skim anyway), but I love an elegantly/eloquently written long story.

        March 23, 2012 at 6:30 pm

      • Why, thank you ma’am! My inner-writer greatly appreciates the stroking. 😛
        I’ve always been more of a fan of the longer works (both writing and reading) but there are those that can completely enthral me with no more than a few paragraphs; I envy this talent, thus, it’s something I want to play around with a bit… we’ll see how long that lasts before I lose interest lol.

        March 23, 2012 at 6:37 pm

  3. There’s great writing here. I like how it shifts completely and becomes a story of obsession and grief. It’s the sort of thing that guarantees to keep readers hooked.

    March 23, 2012 at 9:34 pm

    • Thanks. I’m going to experiment more with flash fiction I think, even though it’s not really my thing. It’s a good exercise if nothing else.

      March 24, 2012 at 4:57 pm

  4. OH fantastic! a perfectly spun tale – i love it

    March 24, 2012 at 3:22 am

    • Thanks luv… I really do think it’s pretty shoddy writing though… but I do like the twist.

      March 24, 2012 at 4:50 pm

      • wasn’t shoddy at all – had a nice rushed and raw feel to it that dragged the reader along – good work honey

        March 24, 2012 at 5:28 pm

      • Thanks babe.
        How’s tricks?

        March 24, 2012 at 5:29 pm

      • busy – everything happening at once hahaha

        March 24, 2012 at 5:33 pm

      • I hear that doll.

        March 24, 2012 at 5:33 pm

  5. SweetP

    Got me too! Wow, I was feeling really sorry for TJ, what a twist! Love it!

    March 24, 2012 at 5:31 am

  6. Psychoooooooooo!
    I really wanna learn how to use a gun!

    March 24, 2012 at 1:04 pm

    • Guns are okay… I prefer knives :O

      March 24, 2012 at 4:53 pm

  7. Wow, this is really deep.

    At first I found it a little strange, especially when she didn’t think she was supposed to pick him up at the airport, but then end was amazing. I love stuff like this, with psychological twists where the main character deludes himself into thinking in a different way. It’s really fascinating to get into another’s mind, especially when their mind is a bit unhinged.

    Great story!

    April 2, 2012 at 9:07 am

    • hehe… so happy you liked it!! I’m also a fan of the slightly unhinged!
      Thanks for reading. 🙂

      April 2, 2012 at 3:30 pm

  8. Wow not only you got me hooked with the story but the twist is even great! Nice Job! 🙂

    April 13, 2012 at 10:37 pm

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