Very nice, Sail!
The "embrace" challenge is now closed.
This week's prompt is "addiction".
I'm standing in for Lee, today. Be glad I didn't give you "porn".
Andrew ,'Damage'
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Very nice, Sail!
The "embrace" challenge is now closed.
This week's prompt is "addiction".
I'm standing in for Lee, today. Be glad I didn't give you "porn".
If anyone has time to beta the first few chapters of a mystery, I'd appreciate it.
Hit me, erika. Profile addy good.
You got it,MM.
The "addiction" challenge is now closed.
This week's prompt is "two people in a dark room."
Standing in for Lee again. Last time, I promise.
Written in about five minutes, just for the laughs.
---
"Ow, fuck, what the--"
"Honey?"
"I’m over here."
"Okay, great. Man, it’s dark, I can’t see a thing."
"Look, just stand still and I will come over--damnit!"
"What?"
"Nothing, just this fucking coffee table."
"Ooh, I hate that. Look, just move really slowly."
"Nah, I thought I’d sprint. Oh, motherfu--"
"What?"
"Nothing, just going to die. A roller skate? When did we even get roller skates?"
"Baby, I haven’t owned roller skates since 1985."
"Well, something’s on--damnit!"
"Honey?"
"Look, I’m just going to stop moving, all right?"
"All right. Here, I think I have…ohh, the lights!"
"Jesus wept."
I like that, Ailleann!
Here's mine, going for the most obvious interpretation of the topic....
---------------------------------
“Ahh, Rebecca...”
She loves her name in his accent.
Joel always called her Becky--Joel who was alive this morning. Tomorrow she’ll despise herself, but she cannot bear to weep alone when she can assuage her grief in this man’s arms.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
He goes absolutely still. “Don’t you...you do know who I am?”
“I mean your Christian name--no one ever uses it, and I’ve forgotten. I cannot call you ‘General’ here!”
Amusement ripples through him. “You could.”
“You’d like that!” she accuses.
He laughs and tells her his name. But she wishes she hadn’t spoken, because this isn’t only grief now--it’s this man, and this moment, and knowing she’s wanted this since the day she met him.
Drabbles! Awesome, ladies.
Wow! This is good stuff.
Housewarming
The mattress was lumpy under her cheek. It smelled vaguely like vomit and urine, although she'd washed it when she'd moved into the room. Her first piece of furniture.
She kept her face pressed resolutely into the futon. The hiss of a zipper presaged the clank of a belt buckle. Then, a rustle as a t-shirt was donned. The door opened and closed.
Tears trickled over her nose as she reached down to the cookie jar to feel the bills she'd placed there earlier. She'd made more in half an hour than a whole day panhandling at the parking garage.