Tethered

The song I wrote this to is absolutely beautiful. It's Tethered by Sleeping At Last. I was listening to this late last night, I just couldn't stop writing to it. There are a lot of meaningful lyrics in it. 

290 words.

Tethered

            It was a simple piece of cord. The fraying silk had finally torn after nearly five years. After all that time, her wrist felt naked, no longer holding that murmured promise from high school. That should have been the omen.

            Keeping the string close, she saw it between the billfolds of her wallet. She itched to call, to ask if hers had fallen off too. But each time she stared at her number, she recalled the distance in her voice; the one word answers, followed by hurried excuses and good-byes.

            They were finally meeting to catch up; coffee in the mid-afternoon. At the outer table, she sat anxious, toying with the silk between her fingers. Seeing her approach, she stood. After speaking for several minutes, she placed the string on the table.

            “You still have that?”

            “It was a promise. Of course I do.”

            “We weren’t promising to marry each other or anything,” she  shrugged. Opening her mouth to respond, something changed as someone approached their table. They shared a kiss before she turned. “Ash, this is Nick.” Ash stared at them, taking it all in. Her mind raced with all the conclusions she could make about his crew-cut, preppy polo and khakis; the subtle hints of make-up and highlights on her. In moments she was on her feet and striding from the table.

            “Ash, what’s wrong?” Pausing, she half-turned.

            “Where is yours?”

            “I don’t know. I cut it off or something.” That was all she needed to hear. A hand caught her wrist, urging her to stop.

            “Ash, come on, it was stupid.” Nick lingered behind her.

            “It was for ideals. So we’d never lose ourselves. Obviously we aren’t tethered anymore.” Jerking her hand free, she didn’t look back.

 

Monkey Bars

 I've been mulling over the idea of writing about a character that does parkour or free running. This is a brief drabble I wrote several nights ago that sort of follows that.

128 words

Monkey Bars

            He kept his eyes focused on the playground. Children were screaming as they chased and jumped around the structure. They were easy for him to ignore as his mind mulled over the equipment.

            Kids saw bridges over a lava pit, or slides off a space ship. Parents barely glanced at the monkey bars and swings, seeing them for the exercise they provided. But he saw possibilities.

            Between every pieces of jungle-gym was a path and what he could do from A to B. He was sure if he tried any stunts now, the children would be sure to attempt; the last thing he wanted was observer injury.

            In the morning he could have the city noise as his soundtrack; yowling children and soccer moms need not be present.

Plunge

It's been forever since I've updated. But I have a few things in the works; some short stories are currently simmering while I work on a bigger project or two. However this came from some pretty great music.

136 words.

            

Plunge

            She tread water seeing the shoreline like a string of Christmas lights. Keeping her eyes focused, she bobbed a few times in the waves. Barely among the waves for a few minutes and her limbs already started to ache. The wake had long since dissipated, leaving her with only the water and the lights.

            It was eerie in the open water, nearly silent besides the occasional lurking seagull. They would think she jumped—her recent mood hadn’t helped assure them she was enjoying the vacation. And maybe she had decided to take a plunge.

            Finally she was away from the pills, away from feeling restrained. Smiling, she slowed, her limbs heavy as her muscles screamed for respite in the chilly ocean. Lying back, she took one last glance at the starry night before shutting her eyes.

Friday Night

I'm discovering all these songs in my personal collection that I forgot I had. Music win. 

248 words. 

Friday Night

Wincing, he blinked a few times as the sunrays crossed his face. He didn’t remember making it to his bed, but as his eyes adjusted, that was certainly where he found himself. Rubbing his face, he frowned as someone shifted next to him and an arm draped across his torso. Peering at the arm from between his fingers, he followed it up to the owner.

            “This was unexpected,” he said, staring at the other occupant of his bed. The owner rolled over.

            “Go back to sleep,” the voice grumbled, half mumbled through a pillow. Seeing him shift again, they stared face to face.

            “Good morning, Elliot,” he said, staring at his best friend, promptly followed by a long stretch of silence.

            “Cam… what…?” His groggy friend seemed to sit up, glancing around the room at their current predicament.

            “Last night… did we...?” Elliot trailed, the alcohol still clouding his mind.

            “Yes…” Looking away, he focused on his hands.

            “Well, how was I?”

            Struggling to hold back a laugh, he smirked. This wasn’t how he imagined that party to end. Last Friday night had certainly done something to him – all that alcohol he wasn’t used to consuming.

            “You were fantastic,” Cam said, patting his friend’s arm.

            “I’m honored I got to experience your homosexuality, Cam,” Elliot said, sitting up. Expecting him to get up, Cam sat quietly. But he didn’t feel the bed shift in that direction. Glancing up to his friend, he was instead met with a kiss.

Lucid

Ask and ye shall receive? I was complaining on Tumblr about how I hadn't written much, and then this happens a few hours later. What? 

118 words.

Lucid

            Few visitors came to his room. Every so often he heard the nurse wander in and she’d ask him a question or two. He’d make a non-committal noise, his eyes focused elsewhere despite his current position facing out the window. There wasn’t anything familiar about this view. Normally he’d see high rises; other businessmen lurking on the streets below; the taxis bustling by with their fares.

            On lucid days he’d just gaze at the passing cars of the suburb, wondering what his life had become. Shifting barely in his wheelchair, he blinked back tears.

            “Mr. Wilson, is something wrong?” The nurse was checking his pulse and giving him a once over as her training dictated.

            “Everything,” he whispered.

Never Ask

Whoa, first story update of 2012.

Never Ask

            It was quiet in the apartment; something that was unusual for a Saturday afternoon. Normally he’d hear music blaring through the speakers, and find his boyfriend vacuuming or working on some other chore that he’d saved for the weekend to do together. The chores weren’t going to be finished, and the music was going to remain off.

            Sitting heavily on the couch, he stared at the fireplace. In the back of his mind he knew he needed to change out of his suit so it wouldn’t wrinkle, but he couldn’t convince himself to do it. He tugged at the black tie, feeling it ease its hold on his neck. Striding to the kitchen, he noticed the plethora of casserole dishes and other items people left in condolence. Bypassing all the food, he snagged a bottle from the freezer and poured a shot. Downing it, he felt the burn in the back of his throat before he went for another.

            Things needed to be done; he couldn’t let life pass by. But something was stopping him as he thought of his partner and their chores. Wiping his damp eyes, he rubbed his face. They had never discussed the coupons. He had no idea where they were, and now he could never ask.