Writing Challenge ~ February 2011

WRITING CHALLENGE ~ FEBRUARY 2011​

This month’s prompt…


You can involve the prompt itself in your piece and make your link to the prompt as obvious or as subtle as you like or use it simply as inspiration for something else. You can use part of the prompt, just one aspect of the image, or use it in its entirety.

The word limit for this month’s challenge is 2,000 words and your submission can take whatever form you desire – poetry or prose, complete story or a vignette. Erotic or not, serious or light hearted, it’s whatever you want it to be!!

Post only your submissions in this thread, constructive comments and reviews are to be posted in the appropriately named – Writing Challenge Review Thread

The deadline for this month’s challenge is Monday 21st February 2011, to allow readers time to get through everything before the March challenge starts!

Previous challenges and reviews can be found here.

Happy writing!

The water was calm where his mind was not. Why was everything so hard? He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, and yet he couldn’t explain it. Drawn to something that was going to get him killed. The fear instilled in him about this kind of love ran deep, just like the water in front of him.

He should jump. He hated himself for feeling this way. Everybody knew it was wrong for feeling like this. Everyone knew it was immoral, and disgusting.
But. Always that but. He couldn’t explain it.

He had sighed at his lover’s touch. Looking into their eyes, he had felt free and buoyed in a way he hadn’t ever felt in his life.

Gay. He hated himself.

But the kisses over the shoulder of his lover had elicited soft gasps and gentle moans.

Gay. He hated his life.

But lips moving and melding together, their bodies wrapped around each other.

Gay. This was so wrong. Why him?

His lover’s rough hand curling around his hard length, their eyes meeting. Smiles plying over both their faces. It was the best moment of his life.

Gay.

The sounds they made, the groans when they kissed, the gentle yet persistent strength of being in each other’s arms. The absolute mind blowing rightness of touching this beautiful man.

It couldn’t be wrong. Could it?

Staring over the water, he for a brief moment thought about jumping, ending it. Something stopped him. He didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t explain it. But he did know it would get better. It had to. For the first moment since sitting down, his mind reflected the water. Calm.

His Spot

He'd always liked this spot, quiet, peaceful, secluded. Technically of course it wasn't his, but it always felt like his. The lake so tranquil it was more like a mirror than a body of water, the setting sun, the very definition of serenity as far as he was concerned. No matter what was wrong with the world, or his life, this place soothed the mind and calmed the senses.

Well, most of the time.

This time it was different. Even this place couldn't ease the pain, couldn't quiet his inner turmoil. Hell, if he genuinely wanted to stop it he'd have to grab a bottle or two and drown it all away. God that idea was so tempting. To let the work of Johnny Walker take care of all his problems. Except he couldn't quite take that step, couldn't quite decide to just let the burn of alcohol provide a temporary stop-gap for his problem. Besides, it wouldn't fix the problem. It would just make him feel worse in the morning when his head started pounding and all the lights seemed a little too bright.

No, this was best dealt with in other ways. He wasn't quite sure what yet, but they probably existed. He stood then, taking one last look at the small black box and the ring it held.

Several yards out a splash could be heard and ripples began drifting out across the previously pristine lake.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow.....

He sat there, silhouetted against the setting sun. He hadn’t moved for hours now, staring out at the water, as though the answer was going to suddenly present itself, as though everything would simply drop into place, as if things would be okay again. They wouldn’t. She knew that now.

Laura sat on the steps of the porch, staring down to the lake, exactly where she had spent the past four hours, watching him from afar, wanting to go to him. She daren’t. Despite everything that had happened she still clung to the almost certainly futile hope that it would work out. Give him some time, he’d said. Let him think it through, and he would make his decision.

Everything that needed to be said, had already been said, as well as many things that shouldn’t. But it was too late, once uttered they could never be unsaid, no matter how badly either of them might want that. She had followed him out of the house, across the veranda, and down the steps, begging him not to go, to wait, think it through. But ultimately it had to be his decision, she knew that, and as hard as it was, she had promised herself she would accept that.

As the sun slid lower, her heart sank with it, taking with it not only the light of the day, but the love of her life. Her eyes hurt from looking toward the sun for so long, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Dusk fell, and the peculiar features of their home began to fade into darkness, almost indecipherable from the unbroken blackness that swallowed up the landscape. The birds she noticed, had fallen silent, and an unearthly silence fell.

She couldn’t say how long passed, but still she sat there, refusing to give up hope. Then she heard it, the crunch of gravel under foot, and she quickly struggled to her feet, shaking out her legs, stamping her feet to relieve the pins and needles caused from sitting for so long. Her heart pounded.

Thump thump.
Thump thump.

She imagined he might hear it as he approached. She daren’t say anything, she squeezed her eyes closed and hoped. Please please please. The mantra repeated in her head.

He stopped, standing only about three feet from her, but she could make out little more than the vaguest of silhouettes. Her mouth was dry as she spoke.

“Well?”

The smallest, simplest of words, on which hung so much.

“I can’t.......... forgive ......or forget. Goodbye Laura”

She crumpled, sliding back to the porch steps, silent tears soaking her cheeks. A moment later she heard the truck door slam, the engine turning, and the unmistakable sound as the tyres crunched the gravel beneath them as they took him out of her life forever, leaving her in total darkness.

Although all his friends laughed at him Blake knew that mermaids are real. He knew it was a strange thing for a cowboy to fantasize about since most of his life was spent well inland away from water. However whenever he got some freetime he took teh train to
San Francisco and jusst sat looking out at the water trying to see a hint of his mermaid.

Blake was an immigrant from a little known now defunct European country. During a revolution that Blake had helped lead much stronger neighbor just took it over and made it part of their empire. Blake and a few other higher ups of the revolution made their way to a port city and took control of a ship and sailed it to the US. Several miles offshore an enemy warship caught up to them and tried to capture the rebels and the money hey had looted to make their lives easy in the new world.

Since the merchant ship Blake and his comrades were on couldn't outrun the warship they decided to abondon ship, under the cover of dark, on the port side while keeping their starboard side to the enemy. The sailors kept up a steady streqm of cannon fire and the rebel leaders heard the screams of the wounded and dying men as they made their escape.

When morning came there were dark and onimous clouds on the horizon. There was no sign of either ship or land. None of the rebels knew how to navigate. Not knowing what to do they randomly picked a direction and began to row. About an hour later it was again dark as night and lightening and thunder wre almost a constant As the storm tossed the lifeboats around men were lost over the side with no chance of rescue. much of the gold and treasures. When the storm died down Blake saw that he was alone. There was one other lifeboat nearby but it was empty and of the 8 men in his boat he was the only one left. Blake tried to figure out what to do when without warning his boat capsized.

Dragged down by the weight of his sword and the gold jewelry he was wearing he struggled to get it all of but it was too much and he was about to drown when a beautiful flaxen haired bare breasted cretaure swam up and got him to the surface with ease. Gasping for breath Blake looked and saw three mermaids supporting him and keeping his head out of the water. It took about 2 days to reach the shores of the us and Blake was starved and dying of thirst when he arrived. Before the mermaids swam away Blake grabbed on by the arm and asked why. She kissed him passonatly and swam away.

Blake knew it was unlikely that he would ever see her again but his heart burned with desire and no other woman would suffice he had to find her again. Off in the distance a tail broke the surface and Blake jumped up "It's her!" he yelled and jumped into the ocean. He began swimming out to sea yelling "wait for me my love."

No one passing by ever forgot the man swimming furiously out to sea screaming at an empty ocean. No one ever saw Blake again. But he was not forgotten. Even to this day the pier he sat on is known as Blakes pier. Look it up if you ever get to San Francisco.

Sun fades into dusk
Mirror of water stares back
Watching to the end

Solitary sunsets slowly sinking toward the sea seem the most satisfactory setting for reflections. As day slowly drifts toward night, like the current flowing by your feet, memory and focus become just as muddied by the ripples as these waters tend to be. It is in this transition that we do our best thinking, our most desperate wishing, our most profound planning. We seek answers, promises, and most of all: simple understanding. We search our mirrored images and plumb the depths of our souls, and slowly drag the waters to see what treasures might unfold. We may or may not receive that for which we quest; casting many, many times and retrieving only empty nets. In the end, we don't go fishing to land the biggest carp, we spend our time in quiet to heal our heavy hearts. And though we must eventually, inevitably depart this refuge and all the peace that it collects, even the least of times spent here are well worth the toil of all the rest.

I sit again, hunched over my knees, watching, waiting, knowing that she will not be here. And yet? I wait.

I wait for the memory, the one beautiful existance that nobody, no one at all, can ever take away from me.

For we were here, together, and in love.

Race, colour, creed? All of no consequence, for we were lovers, her and I, just for one night, but it was night that will forever burn in my soul. A supernova of outpouring passions, when all else faded into obscurity.

One night, from dusk till morn, that was all that we had.
Alone, and in love, joined in joyous passion, yet parted by circumstance.
But, she WAS here, and I did love her, and I did hold her, and I did kiss her.

I look across the bay, watching the setting sun, as she slowly slips lower and lower, her resonant rays kissing my face, a golden moment of joy, of hope, of memory, and, of sadness.

A solitary moment, that fades, and passses, to be replaced, by a single teardrop, and then another.

As I cry I know, that we will never meet agin, but, I will love you, forever and a day, wherever you are my love,for you were, and always will be mine my love, and I?

I will always be yours.

To feel alive.

Warning: Contains strong violence, verbal humiliation and (no spoilers) only gets worse from there.

Alexander would never forget the first night he had discovered what pushed Laura’s buttons. They had been at a houseparty, sharing hot, booze soaked kisses and grinding together on the makeshift dancefloor. When she had drained her cup of vodka and headed upstairs for the bathroom he had followed, hypnotised by the inebriated sway of her ass, the tight skirt and heels. Alexander had intended to manoeuvre Laura into one of the bedrooms but being fairly drunk he simply followed her into the bathroom before he realised what he was doing.

“Alex? What the hell? You wanna watch me piss?”

Blushing and giggling, Laura yanked down her thong, hiked up her skirt and used the toilet. Hard rock music thrummed from the speakers downstairs, stirring the itch in Alex’s boxers until it became a rigid ache. He bolted the bathroom door and advanced on her. Drunkenness made him clumsy, his hands hard and possessive. He pulled Laura to her feet and kissed her hard, groping her and jamming his fingers against the slit she had just wiped so daintily.

“We can’t do it here.” She protested.

Raw animal lust reared within Alexander. The booze, the rock music, her slutty clothes and the naughtiness of doing it right there in the bathroom had roused him unbearably. Instead of letting her go his fingers gripped harder, his jaw set. She was barely five feet tall and ninety pounds dripping wet. It crossed his mind in a burst of rage that made his balls ache just how easily he could overpower her if he wanted to... pin her down and fuck her.

His latent aggression was penetrating her vodka buzz. Laura could see something dark glittering behind his eyes. Alexander was tall and powerfully built, destined for a career in the military, trained to kill. Though he had never been anything but a gentle and considerate lover she knew there was another side to him, one that would allow him to kill for his country on command and still sleep at night. There were times when he scared her.

It was the work of a moment to knock Laura off balance. Alex kicked her feet out from under her and drank in the terror in her eyes as she realised she was falling. Of course, he caught her but the line had been crossed. Seeing her so afraid of him, semi naked and completely vulnerable... Alex damn near came right then. He smiled at Laura, keeping the mood light to convince her that this was just innocent horseplay. Once he had her on the laminated floor he straddled her but refrained from pinning her with his weight. Laura’s fiery red curls tumbled as her green eyes attempted to focus. Alexander dipped his head and bit down on her earlobe.

“We’re doing it here.” He hissed, his deep voice laced with a new menace.

His fingers pushed up her top and tweaked a nipple, hard. Alexander scrutinised Laura as she arched and yelped, assessing how far he could push before she withdrew her consent. Having her there on the hard floor instead of a soft bed, it just made him want to pound into her until she shattered. He had never been so fucking hard. It was too much, he couldn’t wait any longer.

Alexander held her gaze, his fingers slipping from her tit to her throat, caressing her there, lingering, aching to squeeze. Laura’s eyes widened as she realised what he was thinking. He let the humanity drain from his expression, leaving him with a sneer that hovered between mockery and contempt. His free hand ripped his jeans open, shoving them down to release his swollen cock. He spat into his hand and rubbed a thick gob of saliva into her cunt, palming her clit roughly.

Cunt.

He had never used that word in reference to her before but it made him groan aloud to do so then. Alexander slammed his length into her slick hole, taking her hard, nailing her to the floor, pushing deeper than he knew was comfortable for her. She yelped, pleading with her eyes.

“You’re hurting me.” She protested, the trust bleeding from her gaze, slowly replaced with genuine fear. Alex swiftly pinned her wrists above her head with one of his huge hands, stretching her tiny little body beneath him to make her arch and thrust her tits upwards. His lips and teeth found the delicate skin beneath her ear. He sucked and bit on her as his hips settled into a slow, deep, punishing rhythm, letting the weight of his abdomen fall onto her with every brutal thrust. Her body shook beneath his, her breath coming in short, hard sobs.

She hadn’t told him to stop.

Alexander’s lips twisted into a feral smile, trailing up her neck to growl low into her ear, punctuating his words with vicious thrusts.

“Take it, you filthy little bitch. You’ve been asking for it all fucking night, dressing and dancing like a cheap slut, teasing. Any decent woman would be telling me to stop this, fighting me off. But you, you’re fucking loving it.” He raised himself up so his face hovered over hers. Her pretty little features were twisted into an agonised grimace, tears streaking her make-up but her whimpers had a new edge to them. Alex pinched her straining clit and watched with satisfaction as she bucked and moaned, lifting her hips to meet his deep, painful thrusts. “Beg me to stop!” He snarled, his movements getting jerky and erratic. “If it hurts so fucking much... “

She did nothing of the kind. Alexander watched her tiny body go into meltdown. He laughed hysterically, slapping her tits and her face. He brought his nose to within millimetres of hers and canted his head to the side, an evil grin splitting his face as he picked up the pace with his hips.

“Scream rape.” He snarled, pausing to drink in the effect his words were having on her. “No? This isn’t rape then bitch. This is some filthy cunt getting exactly what it deserves.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“What it needs.”

She came violently. Alexander had to clap a hand over Laura’s mouth to keep her quiet while she screamed in denial. Her wet eyes bulged and her body heaved beneath him. His big hand was smothering her. Something dark burned at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach. Alex froze, a whole new thrill burning through him as he calmly watched her go. Her cunt pulsed and clamped like a vice as he watched her face purple and her eyes swim. With a savage roar he buried himself in her and exploded, not letting her breathe until he was done.

After that night they broke new ground with every violent fuck. Laura was hardwired for masochism and not just physically. When he spoke she obeyed. When he objectified and humiliated her she came hard enough to take his breath away. Alexander knew that she had no limits where he was concerned. If he truly treated her like shit and maimed her psychologically she would take it all and still serve him with total devotion. It was a potent temptation, to push her beyond what she could endure willingly... to destroy her.

Most of his limits however, were set by circumstance. They both lived with their folks and his car didn’t offer the kind of privacy that wouldn’t get him arrested. Eventually, after wearing his father down for months, he got the keys to his uncle’s cabin. He packed up his car carefully and then went to pick his girl up for an unforgettable date from her last college class that Friday. He parked around the corner from where he usually met her. He wore a grubby overcoat that she’d never seen before, the hood pulled up even though it wasn’t raining. He let her wait for him a few minutes and then walked up swiftly, putting an arm around her and digging a serrated hunting knife into the flesh beneath her left breast.

“Walk.” He growled, disguising his voice. Alex took her down an alley and knocked her unconscious, then dumped her in the trunk of his car waiting at the other end. Duct tape secured her wrists, ankles and shut her eyes and mouth.

He drove for four hours until he reached the cabin. No rest stops, no checking on her, nothing. Alex opened the trunk and regarded her, his stomach twisting in disgust. She stunk of sweat and fear and she’d been forced to void her bladder. Despite his sadism, knowing that she wanted to be abused like this just made him... despise her. She was no longer his beloved girlfriend of two years, she was a base creature that was wholly beneath his contempt. He grabbed her hair and wrenched her body around till her face was scrubbing the piss soaked trunk.

“Look what you fucking did.”

“Alex?” Her mouth was taped but the tone made it impossible to mistake what she was trying to say. Alex froze... but only for a moment. Then he picked her up and carried her into the cabin. She landed on a hardwood floor, then a vicious kick to her ribs doubled her over. Alex watched her suffer for him, hardening despite his distaste. It took hardly any time to slice her clothes off and Alex pulled the tape from her mouth. He had brought her here to hear her scream. She cut a pitiful figure; naked, bruised, blind, bound and cowering. He kicked off his shoes and prowled silently around her, then sliced through her bonds but left her blind. Alex stripped while she huddled there, deciding what to do with this new freedom. He whipped her pale ass with his belt and she finally pulled the tape from her eyes. When she saw who her captor was Laura’s legs buckled, her shock total. Alex capitalised on this by striding towards her and cramming his cock into her open mouth, violating her throat, his fist twisted in her long red hair. His free hand licked the belt over her back and ass, feeling the heavy buckle bite into her flesh while she gagged and retched.

“Wassamatter cunt?” He grunted. “Cock got your tongue?”

He raped her face until she started to go limp and then shoved her away. She stared up at him, terrified and betrayed. It caused a pang of doubt and remorse in Alex, which killed his buzz and angered him. He punched her hard in the side of her face, watched her reel back and hit the floor. Much better. He straddled her, raining blows on her upper body while she cried out and tried to block him.

“I want a punchbag, I go to the fucking gym. You know what this is cunt? It’s boring. I know you’re dumb enough to take anything I dish out. Where’s the fucking fun in that huh?”

He gripped her ankles and shoved them up to her face, dragging his cockhead over her wet slit to collect enough moisture that he wouldn’t suffer discomfort. Then he popped his cockhead into her ass and split her open, descending into a feral frenzy, maiming her asshole while she screamed for him. When he’d heard enough Alex choked her, leaning his weight onto her slender neck.

“Goodbye cunt.”

She went scarlet and then purple while he raped her bleeding ass. He was dumping his load in her when her lights went out.

Alex watched the sun rise, drying the last of the dampness on his freshly showered body, sipping a cold beer, toasting her demise.

Some distance away his Ford burned like a fireball, taking the tree he had crashed into with it, cremating her.

He had never felt so alive. He was aware of every heartbeat, every hair that rose in the gentle breeze, the sensual pleasure of beer bubbles on his tongue.

The Omen of a Good Life

“Where are we going, Simon? I can’t see a thing…” She said as he led her by the arm, the silk blindfold covering her eyes and robbing her of her sight.
“I know dear, but you do trust me, don’t you?” He gently stroked her over the side of her arm, guiding her along.
She had no idea where he was taking her, but it couldn’t be that bad. He was her boyfriend after all.

“Just a little longer Val, we’re almost there.” He whispered in her ear, causing her to shiver involuntarily. “Oh, you… you know how to push my buttons, don’t you?” She snickered back, poking her tongue to him.
He laughed, stopping and gently pushing her down on a wooden surface. She could hear the gentle rushing of water. “Wait, is this where I think it is?” She turned her head to where she thought he would be.
“Perhaps, perhaps not” She could clearly hear the cheeky tone in his voice, at times like those she wish she could punch him in the nuts.

The blindfold gave way, revealing the scene to her. It was late in the evening; the sun was already slowly setting in the sky, ready to dive behind the mountains on the horizon.
“Wow… it’s beautiful.” She could feel a blush rising to her cheeks as he wrapped his strong arms around her shoulders, sitting behind her. “I’m glad that you like it, because I’ve brought you here for a reason”
She looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend, smiling at the dark green eyes and the black shoulder long hair that she loved to play with.
“What’s that then, Simon?” She arched an eyebrow.

He exhaled softly, taking both of her hands in his own. “ Valerie… will you marry me?” The answer drowned in a loud squealing hug as she fell into his arms. He didn’t even need to know what she would answer; he had known it for a long time yet tradition needed him to ask it anyway.

Sniffing loudly she looked up at him, smiling through the tears. Leaning in gently, she kissed him on the lips. A tender kiss that lasted for several seconds, before it broke and they both burst out in a nervous giggle.

“Look dear” Simon said to her as they looked over the lake. “The sunset is nearing it’s end. Legends say that if young lovers watch a sunset together, that they will live a happy life together.”
Valerie sighed happily as she leant against her now fiancé’s shoulder. “With you, my life is perfect, no matter what.”

Just Another Day

The hour before dawn was usually the calmest and most serene time of day for Jack. Well worn boots walked along the even more well worn planks of the verandah as he went to sit down and watch the sunrise. Today, he had his coffee and the last remains of his breakfast, some fried egg on a piece of thick toast, as he sat down to have his one and only little daily ritual.

'The outback is a strange place,' Jack thought. 'Fucking beautiful country that will smack you down for no reason at all.' He took a sip of his coffee, letting his mind wander a little as the sky lit up with oranges and reds from the lurking sun.

Not two years earlier, one of the toughest droughts the region had been through had finally broken. Well, broke enough. But not before the cattle station saw its herds culled to about a third of what they were. Even those that made the grade and weren't culled looked like fur covered bones for the most part. But the vet was sure that all those that remained would be able to put on enough condition to at least breed well if not be good enough to sell.

Things had started to look up after that. The rains were enough to get some plant life growing, and the cattle were starting to look more like cattle again. In some ways, the work was harder, since the few animals were still scattered over the same wide area, they weren't as easy to spot from the chopper. Instead of hundreds of head in a group, there were less than a hundred, and more often less than fifty.

He took a bite of his breakfast. The gold of the yolk reminded him of the soon to be rising sun. The sky was ablaze with the false dawn. Slight wisps of clouds gave the otherwise clear sky some beauty. The clouds gave the light a surface to exalt their myriad of colours that hid within the ordinary white. It would be a few more minutes, and the light coming to him would be directly from the sun itself, in all of its glory and majesty.

He could hear the other jackaroos and jillaroos moving about. Jokes were traded between them, including a couple of rather rude ones concerning Janice. She took it in her stride, punching Alan in the arm on the way past.

“Fuck! What was that for?”

“For being a prick, Alan.”

“Shut up, ya wuss.”

“Fuck you, Steve.”

The rest of them laughed from in the mess as they cleaned up from breakfast.

Not only did they have work on their own station to do, but the neighbour's as well. They had got a call from the Pattersons that they had some feed they needed moved, but needed a few more hands to help out. After the assistance they got from the Pattersons earlier in the week, there was no hesitations in helping out as well. Most of the them would be helping the Pattersons while the rest pulled their normal duties on the Bryant station.

The sun finally breached the horizon as Jake finished the last of his breakfast. The light illuminated the land around the main buildings of the Bryant Cattle Station. As far as the eye could see was nothing but water. The gentle ripples of the flood just touched the underneath of the boards that Jake was sitting on. The darkness had allowed him ignore the soft tell tale sounds of the lapping water as he had sat, along with the subtle aroma of water and rotting plant matter.

Jack stood up, leaving the cup and plate were they were, taking one final stretch before heading off. He followed his fellow workmates down the stairs into the hip deep water, heading out for the boats they would need to get the feed to the surviving stranded cattle.

He was hauled over the front of the blunt nosed boat. He took off his boots, letting the water drain out. He looked out over the water as the boat moved out.

“A couples of weeks of this, then we have knee deep mud, sandflies and mosquitoes, and stuck cattle. But once that clears, shit, this place will be green as.”

“Yep,” Janice said from the back of the boat. “Then it'll be a plague of mice, locusts or roos until the drought comes back again.”

“But I'll say this much,” Jack replied, “it's never boring.”

“A-fucking-men,” chorused everyone else with a laugh.

The perfect Sunrise.

http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w62/Britwitch/WC_Feb2011.jpg


She liked to work alone. Be alone.

She was at ease in her solitary surroundings, and never shared why, or asked herself why. It was just how she was.

Her name was well known in photography circles; she with a portfolio of shots from war zones, ..famine sites and sporting events she was commissioned to cover. None of it demanded a 'team'. She got in, and got out alone, ..with her cameras her only defense or weapons.

There was an earthly connected peace to living in her solitary self imposed world. Her work was her joy, stress, energy and reward. She had, and wanted nothing else.
On time off, leisure for her was waking before dawn, and finding that right spot on a beach somewhere - any beach - to catch the sun rise. Her walls were covered in candid shots of beaches all over the world.
Of the joggers, the wave chasing dogs, the swimmers...even a fisherman wading out in to thigh deep water, standing staring upwards with his line and rod dangling limply between his fingers, as a small plane almost hugged the top of his fishing cap, coming in for a landing on a coastal air strip.

Working alone gave her a window into worlds she could enter only on her own. Worlds that would have been closed to her if she were surrounded by others. She avoided portrait photography for that reason. She didn't photograph celebrities, didn't do fashion shots, didn't pander to the opulent financial offers for 'just that one time'.
It was in a contract with the magazines she photographed for. For her, the life was sucked out of a shoot by two guys holding lights, when she could just as easily mount them on pods if they were needed...and only if .
There was nothing as nauseating as a make up girl running around with a single dusting brush, primping noses that didn't belong in her pictures. And there was never anything as wrenching as spoiled models, who got off on the fuss created by an entourage and thought they were gods.

Her desert boots were scuffed and worn..Her socks were crumpled down around her ankles, and the old pale blue of her denim cut off shorts had been washed so often the label on the waist band was a faded silvery grey.
She stooped over, adjusting the filter on the camera, and dusted the lens carefully.
Again she clicked..And again she didn't like the shot. It was barren. Despite the beauty of the natural God given back drop, it was barren for her.
There was no focus to draw the eye to. No single break in the water to catch ones eye. Where were the birds when she needed them? Just one. Just one dumb duck...and she smiled.

She peered through the viewfinder again, and once more adjusted the lens. Each second that passed, the shadows changed. The sun was just about to break from the orange glow hidden behind the horizon, to the golden reds that blast the morning skys with an early lesson on colors.

Looking up the lakeside strand, ..she saw what she'd been waiting for.

It took only a few moments for her pack her spare lenses, and swing the camera case over her shoulder. She walked briskly, but with intensional quiet. No need to shatter the moment with noise, and she didn't want the subject to know she was there.
This was too perfect. She had the perfect spot on her lounge wall for such a shot. Don't move...Ssssh..Don't move.

There was an irony here she liked.

He was alone. At ease in his solitary surroundings.

It felt right to watch him; be reverent of his place on the landscape. The frame to his picture was huge with its ripples and waking morning breezes. The first shot felt wrong. She felt she was spying on him. Stealing something.

She was looking at him from the wrong angle. Quietly she dropped to one knee, and zoomed in. The second shot...maybe. But 'maybe' wasn't good enough. It held too much of a feeling of intrusion. The height was wrong. She needed the angle kinder to him. She didn't want to take the picture, but rather have it come to her.
Shifting again, she lay on her belly..tucked her elbows in close to her chest and refocused as she studied him in her viewfinder. The harsh grasses that bit up through the sand nibbled on her elbows and the bare strip of her exposed belly.

Perfect. That single long waited click was perfect. The water suddenly had its center, and the subject had his moment of digital magic. The harmony was eerily beautiful. The question of 'what was he thinking about' had her look on a lot longer after that perfect shot was taken.

What was this stranger thinking about? What had brought him down to the pier at this hour, to just sit staring , and to fill a simple shot of sunrise with his perfect presence?

He left quietly. Unaware of the little moment he'd made for her; given to her. She went home, and spent the rest of the morning on her computer loading the shots...and that shot.
The hours were a lovely captive memory of praying for the perfection of reality to be as perfect as the perfection in her memorized picture.
She adjusted shades...lightened , sharpened and darkened the picture. But nothing came close to simply leaving it alone, just as it had been taken. Unadjusted. Simply exposed.

It was one of those moments that a person could try find, but would never capture. It was one of those moments you just found. And she'd found it. There was something relaxing, sad, peaceful, mysterious and romantic about him. About the picture.
Not knowing who he was, and why he was there was the perfection in the shot.

What was he thinking of?

It didn't matter. Every time she would look at it, the answer could be different.
She couldn't answer all the questions about herself, so why should he not be left alone too.
It was best not to know. Not knowing made him and the sunset more perfect.

He was pissed. She was playing games and trying to manipulate him. She’d tried that once before and it had backfired on her. Jake wasn’t one to play games. If the bitch thought that leaving was going to make him beg her to come back to him, then she was going to have a long wait.

Who in the hell did she think she was? She was a lazy housekeeper and cared more about her precious job than about taking care of him. Not to mention she was frigid as hell. She never woke him up with a blowjob, but he knew she got herself off every day. He always made sure he knew the exact location of her favorite vibe. And every fucking day when he got home from work, that god-damned vibe had been moved. She wouldn’t open her legs for him or service him but the bitch got herself off every god-damned day.

And she was an anti-social cunt. Every time they were supposed to go out with his friends to go bar hopping, she came up with some fucked-up excuse. Once, their son Ryan got sick. Another time she didn’t want to leave Ryan home alone because they’d be gone overnight. Those excuses had been years ago, but it was always the same shit, always some excuse to stay home and not go out with him.

Jake looked out over the still water, the only movement was the occasional drag of his cigarette or a swig of beer. Of course that was something else she nagged about. His job was a fucked up mess so he drank when he got home. It was better than being pissed and frustrated all the time. But every time they were with his family and his sister asked about how much he drank, that whore whined “He goes through a 30 pack in 3 days.” As always she was exaggerating. And even if she wasn’t, that was only 10 a day. It’s not like he was an alcoholic or anything.

Selfish. That is what she was. A selfish bitch. She always wanted to touch him, to sit next to him, or put her head on his lap. Give him some fucking space! And she knew he didn’t do that spooning shit in bed. It got too hot and it was hard to sleep with her too close. If she wanted to be touched she could always roll over and suck his cock. But she bitched about that too. “You just lay there. You don’t move or touch me or react. I don’t know if you are enjoying it or have fallen asleep.” What in the hell did she want from him? She’s the one who should be doing the work, not him.

He flicked the cigarette butt into the water and then downed the rest of his beer. It had been a week since she’d made the announcement she was leaving. He had no idea where she’d gone, but she’d be back. She couldn’t be out on her own; she wouldn’t know the first thing about living without him. The bitch needed him and he knew she’d be back.

Goodbyes



Tiredness made her stumble, not the sombre darkness.
Even if blindfolded she knew that she could find her way from the dirt track to the boathouse and the lake beyond.

Her breath was near normal now. Most of it exhaled in relief at the sight of the skewed truck at the roadside.
Reassured initially by its presence, recalling its careless abandonment now added to her anxiety.
Picking up the pace of her progress, her mind too began to race.

It had been hours!
Searching unsuccessfully, she realised she had not thought through what might happen when she did actually find him!
He was usually so calm, so reasonable that many assumed him to lack emotion, be incapable of passion.
But she knew different.
She knew just how much simmered just beneath the surface and that being out of control he was now capable of anything.

Her apprehension burst even as she erupted from the cocoon of undergrowth.
From the claustrophobic chaos she was surrounded by still space.
She took in the expanse, yet all her attention was drawn to the stillness of the dark silhouette at the end of the jetty.

Her heart swelled compassion as she took in the hunched back, the hugging of his knees to his chest
and the way his head was turned towards the horizon.
There was stillness about him now, an acceptance.

Briefly she resented his fierce independence.
Would he ever let her be there for him, to comfort, to support?
Perhaps that was what she needed, for him to let her in?

Soundlessly, she drew closer.
Even when she stood beside him, he made no move or sound to acknowledge her presence.
For long minutes they both stared out:
The scene filling their senses and binding them together more than any word or action could have done.

His change was abrupt.
Standing to brush down his jeans he muttered;

”Let’s go ... “

Taken aback by the abrupt turn of events, she groped for a response;

”D- Don’t you want ... “

She halted at his choked sound.
Holding her breath she cursed herself for intruding on his solitude, his peace, lost as to how she could help him.

”No!”

The angry expletive broke the silence with the brevity of a bullet shot.
He turned away, eyes squeezing closed, fists clenched, a tremor running through his body.

”Mikey ... “

She watched his body shake as he battled against the familiarity of her soft plea,
against the tentative touch on his arm willing her to let him in.

For long moments he seemed to stare at the setting sun and then his body slumped
as if those last embers had seeped into his senses melting away the protection of his rage.

He turned abruptly, his anguished eyes locking with hers, catching her breath at the rawness of his pain as she awaited his words.

”I hate goodbyes ... “

She nodded and held him as they wept together.

”I know ... “

She choked ...

What the fuck, Jenny. How did you end up here?

“Seriously, sit down at the thing, pull the arm, see what comes out. Its fun, it really is.”
“I do not believe you.”
But still you sat down.
And were instantly bored.

The others had run off to the club, dancing was too much effort, though.

“All in!”
“Trip Aces wins.”
“Nice play.”

What happened next?
What was it about that moment?
Then the alcohol. And the cigarette.

“C’mon, Jenny, we’re heading up to the room. You’ll like them. I promise.”
“I do not believe you,” was what you should have said. You should have gotten another room. The table paid off that well you could have.

But no.

You went with them.

Then the hand on your wrist.
A scream from somewhere.
Blood on your lip and whispers in your ear that took away years of hard won identity in an instant.
Your own damn fault. Your own damn weakness.
Always.

“Don’t bother. No one is waiting for you. No one will want to see you.”
“Relax.”
“This is home now, you understand?”

Thats how you ended up here.
Thats how you end up here, from the Bellagio, to this dump faster than should be possible.
Thats how you ended up here, in a ‘motel’ where a shitty fucking photograph of a cowboy passes as art.
Thats how you ended up here, on the wrong side of a lock.

You would think the tears would stop.

They had not been a match anyone saw coming. Tom had always risen in time to see the dawn. He had rough hands and sun leathered neck. Rebecca called herself a night owl. She only saw the sunrise if she had been up all night. Her hands had calluses too. But hers were just on her fingertips, created from years of practice on her harp.

She was soft and delicate. He was hard and strong. No one believed that a rancher and a harpist would make for a life long love affair. But they were wrong. He loved her music and the strength in her well trained arms. She loved his gentle manner with his horses and his quiet control.

And now, there were lives were blended. He would don a monkey suit and go see her perform. She would slide her harp to the front porch and play when he was in the barn helping with a difficult foaling.

His ranchhand had asked him how he had met such a beautiful and talented woman. He shook his head. Sometimes late at night they would spoon in bed and make up stories about how they had met. She would propose that he met her when her harp had been misplaced at the trainstation. He would chuckle and say that he had met her when he had gone to the symphony to impress a woman that he was courting.

But the truth was just as charming. He had seen her on a date. He was with a woman, he didn't even remember her name, taking her to dinner. The other woman had been wearing a dark green silk dress. Rebecca had been with a group of people, musicians. She was going to the bar for a refill. She was dressed in the same green silk dress. He couldn't help but notice. He wanted to meet her. There was just something about her. She ordered a whiskey sour. If he hadn't been on a date he would have bought her a drink. And she was laughing at the bartender's joke. But he didn't want to be a heel.

As soon as he could, he ended the date with the nameless blonde in the green dress. Tom drove her home and then raced back to the restaraunt. He looked around for her but the corner table was not empty. He asked the bartender about the brunette in the green dress.

"Becc?" The bartender asked gently. "Aw, she comes in here most Friday nights late, after their show."

Tom made sure he was there the next Friday with a whiskey sour. It only took two Friday nights for him to know that he would love her forever.

Last Call

He sat gazing out across the lake, a faint smile on his lips as though laughing at some inner joke. Taking a deep breath he inhaled the sweet air of this almost untouched environment, it was so clear, clearer than the air in the city at any rate.

The sun was rising slowly, taking its time as it bathed the area in soft golden light.

Still gazing out across the lake he perked his head up, like a deer that has heard the faint crunch of the stalking hunter, though without any of the fear of the former.

“It took you longer than I thought it would, at least I got to see the sunrise.”

“Fuck you,” Came the reply, it was a voice like liquid chocolate. The voice was annoyed, but it was still a voice that bathed the ears in aural ecstasy. It was both a gift and a curse for the owner, “You're hard to find. You obviously didn't want to be found.”

The man chuckled, still looking out across the lake.

“You know, a pretty girl like yourself shouldn't use such foul language, it's so unbecoming.” The figure behind bristled with anger as she suppressed another 'Fuck You'. He was baiting her, they both knew it, but it seemed to be only him who knew why he was.

“So if you didn't want to be found, why are you just sitting there now? You must have known they would send me.”

The man raised his head, his eyes looking towards the heavens, appeared to reach a decision and reached down to start undoing the laces on his heavy boots, pulling them off and placing them neatly side by side, pulling off his socks and tucking them in the boots, rolling up his jeans until they rested just below his knees. His actions were slow and deliberate. The figure behind him just watched as he moved closer to the edge of the dock and dangled his legs over, dipping his feet into the freezing water. He watched as faint ripples spread out from his legs, disturbing the mirror flat surface of the lake.

“If you don't answer me, I will kill you.”

The man looked up from his inspection of the water, as if suddenly noticing the woman behind him, half turning his head; his face showed little expression, but if anything it looked...hopeful.

“So there's a chance you won't kill me?

“This whole thing seems so stupid for you! You could have easily paid them off, but you didn't. Instead you fought them, but so damn half heartedly; you could have made taking you down so much more trouble for than it was worth, but you didn't! Then you ran, and you could have vanished, yet here you are.”

“You're right. I could have done all those things, but I still don't know if any of those would have worked, I could have ended up still dying, and a lot more horribly.”

“So what, you're just settling for dying then?”

“I didn't say that, but if I was going to die, then at least the last thing I heard was that sexy voice of yours.” The figure behind rolled her eyes, naturally, her voice really could be a curse, men and woman would line up just to talk to her. The thing that most annoyed her was that in her profession men never took her seriously because of her voice, and by the time she convinced them that she was serious they were dead.

“Then what?”

“Well like you said, I knew they were going to send you.” The world went quiet, as though all the sound in the world had been drained out. The woman stood on the dock, staring at him as his words sunk in.

“Me? I'm your big plan for survival?” The man returned to looking into the depths of the water, his feet were getting used to the temperature.

“Pretty much. I was hoping you might just not kill me.”

“You do realise there's a big flaw in that plan? If I don't kill you, they will kill me. If I just pretend that I killed you they will find out, and kill me. I like you, but I'm not going to die for you.”

“I know.”

“I don't want to kill you.” That pleasurable voice was filled with a note of desperation now.

“You seem a pleasant fellow, I hate to die.”

“Heh. The Princess Bride, very cute.” The woman said with a smirk.

“I thought so. My plan is that we both disappear, we can hide together, with both of us working together they won't be able to find us.”

“You're forgetting someone.”

“I know you love her, but she doesn't have the same skills to hide that we do, if you asked her to come along she might end up leading them to us; through no fault of her own of course, but still. It will be hard I know, but you do a dangerous job like this, you could get yourself killed anyway, what's that going to leave her with.”

“I suppose so.”

“Then we'll leave now, less time for them to track us down.” He pulled his legs out of the water, picking up his boots and turned to face the beautiful woman, who stood there, deep in thought as she tried to think of something that was eating at her mind. She turned on the spot and began to follow him as they walked towards a large black car that she had parked nearby.

“If I don't take her with me they will kill her.”

“What?”

“If they know I've disappeared on them they will kill her to send me a message.”

“You don't know that. It's something you'll have to risk.” The man closed his eyes and silently cursed himself as soon as he said the words.

“Fuck you.” Said the voice of silk.

The shot rang out across the still lake as the sun continued to on its journey towards the zenith.