Tag Archives: short short story

Lust – Post 1

All right, put the kids to bed (I don’t care if they just got up – it’s my blog and I get to make the rules).  Here is the first installment of submissions for the Lust Round of the Seven Deadly Sins Contest.  Enjoy.

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First, from Dave at 1pointperspective: (Visit here to see Dave’s illustration) and leave comments:

Crystal Light and the Look of Lust

Crystal was around 14 when she first noticed men giving her what she called “the look”.  Before she reached 16, she fully understood that the look was one of sexual desire.  By 32, it was a simple fact of life.

While giving her order at the deli counter in the Shoprite, the guy in the apron and paper hat would glaze over, no longer hearing her.  He was stripping her naked and doing freaky things to her in his deli-guy mind.  Crystal would smile at him, lean over the counter a little, and end up with a pound of imported soprasetta for the price of baloney.

One man hadn’t given her the look in years.  They say marriage does that.  She didn’t know whether it was the years or the fact that Mr. Light had doubled in size since their wedding.  Everyone, including Crystal, called him Mr. Light, out of respect and fear.

She’d gone to see a private eye to help her discover if Mister was off his diet, but wasn’t in his office two minutes when the guy started giving her the look.  She re-crossed her legs and tried to ice him back to reality.  She hoped he’d returned from his porno mind-vacation as she handed him the cash.  Now the detective wouldn’t even return her calls.

Crystal changed her strategy and tried to get a young guy named Nicky from the pool to hang out with Mr. Light.  Maybe a guy who could see his own feet without mirrors would snap her husband out of the habit of stuffing his face.  She was talking with him to see if he’d pal around with Mr. Light when Nicky got the look.  She knew his brain was busy pulling off her bathing suit, touching her in  places which the sun hadn’t browned.  He wasn’t listening anymore. How many guys today?  She broke it down as simply as she could for him.

“Could you just take him out?” she finally asked.

Nicky looked stunned.  She thought she’d gotten through.  Satisfied she’d made her point, Crystal got up from the chaise lounge and walked to the snack bar to find Mister.  She could feel Nicky’s eyes on her.  She swayed her caboose a little to thank him for finally paying attention.

Mr. Light had just finished talking to that creepy pool manager with the missing thumb.  The amputee looked a little pale as he shuffled past Crystal like a zombie.  She gave silent thanks to the patron saint of pervs, as the troll didn’t try to sneak a glimpse down the front of her bathing suit like he usually did.  Mister was giving her a look, but not the look the other men did.  Not a good one.

That all was two weeks ago and nothing had changed, except her bruises fading slowly toward yellow.

She went down the driveway to pick up the newspaper, and saw a gun under the bushes.  She wondered if it was time to find a safer home as she picked it up and quickly wrapped it in the Inquirer.  She glanced around the still street before heading inside.

Mr. Light was asleep, making those choking sounds like he did.  A smile crept across Crystal’s full lips at the thought of him choking.  As she glanced down at the bruises on her arm, her eyes traveled further to the newspaper with the pistol inside.  She touched the cool metal, wondering if the police could miss her bruises.  She thought about a horny cop giving her the look and what he might do to help her get away with something.

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From K.L Richardson over at Closing Time: (Visit here to see her post) or to leave comments

Lust For Life…

“I’ve looked on many women with lust. I’ve committed adultery in my heart many times. God knows I will do this and forgives me.”~~ Jimmy Carter

It was supposed to be a once in a lifetime trip – Paris, the city of love!  Elaine would never have a chance like this again; a discounted trip courtesy of the senior class.  She and her husband Henry, were going as extra chaperones; Elaine was beyond giddy.  She always had an expressive, romantic soul- perfect foil (she thought) to Henrys more staid demeanor.  While he was not given to displays of affection Elaine thought Paris might change his mind and put a little spunk in him.  One could always hope!

Just a week before they were to leave he started acting funny.  Not thinking much of it Elaine blithely went about packing and arranging what needed to be done.  Then she got “that call” informing her that there was someone else in her husbands life and it wasn’t his golden retriever.  However, the trip was paid for-no refunds, so on they went.  Obviously a volatile situation, Elaine tried to make the best of it.

The flight over was uneventful if a bit tense.  On the surface Elaine looked calm but her mind was boiling with the years of deceit that had come to the surface at this inopportune time. Her romantic  side warred with her scorned, hurt side making her quiet and morose.  Being a school tour nearly everything was arranged in groups, check in at the hotel, trip to the Louvre, “typical” French restaurant.  All orderly and scheduled with no room for error.

“This isn’t the way to see Paris,” she thought, “I should be on the back of a motorcycle, zipping through traffic, arms around the waist of a hot hunk.”  She intended that to be her husband until plans changed.

One day they got a “free day” to explore as they wanted.  Being motorcycle enthusiasts they and another couple went to the Paris Harley Davidson. The strain must have showed on her face because as the others were browsing the clerk approached Elaine, making pleasant small talk.  She wasn’t used to the accent but she tried to keep up with the conversation.  Suddenly she thought she heard him say “Would you like me to arrange that for you?”.  ”I’m sorry, what did you say?”  ”Mademoiselle, does she like zee French boys?”  ”B-b-but you do see that I’m here with my husband?”, she finally managed to stammer out. “Zoot alors! What does that have to do with Paris and fun?!”, was his pragmatic reply.  Joining the others she returned to the hotel.  Elaine sadly reflected on the irony of the proposition presented earlier in the day.

In the middle of the night she realized that Henry was no longer in bed. Dressing quickly she hurried downstairs to find him whispering sweet nothings into a lobby phone, apologizing for not bringing “her”.  Quietly slipping back to their room Elaine started packing her bags; they were to board the plane tomorrow.

Early next morning as everyone stood groggily in line for the airport bus Henry’s eyes searched for Elaine.  ”She has to be here.”, he mused since she had already packed, leaving the room before he was awake.  Unable to find her they checked the American embassy to no avail.  Henry returned home.

That afternoon, zipping through the cobbled streets, a smiling blonde perched behind a lusty Frenchman.  Her arms encircled his waist as she surveyed her future.

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And from Lorna – from over at Lorna’s Voice (Visit here to see Lorna’s Lush Lust post) :

I Want You, I Need You, I Love You

The occasional static and crackles caused by obsessive listening was no match for Elvis’ satin voice. She played the record again, swaying her shapely hips to the music and mouthing the words as she watched herself in her full-length mirror. She knew the words as well as she knew her reflection. Both felt as hollow as a grave before the casket was lowered into it.

Hold me close, hold me tight.
Make me thrill with delight.
Let me know where I stand from the start.
I want you, I need you, I love you
With all my heart.

How many times had men fantasized about her while listening to this song?

She made a career out of making men want the seductive woman they saw when she put on her mask. And she was the best in the business. Desire is what she sold and men bought it up with reckless abandon—men who never knew her, only her act. Nameless men offered her just about anything she wanted from them in exchange for a chance at devouring her body. All she wanted was their undying love and an unbreakable promise never to leave her alone. But they weren’t able to offer her those things, even in for a chance to fondle her breasts and feel her shapely legs wrapped around their torsos.

Ev’ry time that you’re near
All my cares disappear.
Darling, you’re all that I’m living for.
I want you, I need you, I love you
More and more.

“I want you, I need you, I love you.” Elvis crooned. She felt that way about a man once. He was really just a boy and it was so long ago that it hardly counted as this lifetime. But she ached for him with something inside so strong that she knew she would love that man to death…or she would die trying.

I thought I could live without romance
Before you came to me.
But now I know that
I will go on loving you eternally.

But he didn’t give her the chance to give her life to him. He up and left while she was still young and innocent. So she made herself into a woman no other man would ever up and leave. Not and live to tell about it.

Won’t you please be my own?
Never leave me alone
‘Cause I die ev’ry time we’re apart.
I want you, I need you, I love you
With all my heart.

“Yes, Elvis. I know how that feels,” she said to her reflection, which was the most real thing about her anymore. “But no matter how much you beg and plead, they always leave you alone, don’t they? It’s best to leave before you get there, don’t you think?”

She zipped up her dress and adjusted her ample breasts to make sure the cleavage looked just risqué enough for the crowd she wanted, needed, loved to please.

The doorbell rang. She appraised her reflection from glamorous head to spike-heeled toe. Blowing herself a kiss over her shoulder, she grabbed her purse and headed toward the door.

On the dressing table were two empty champagne bottles and one glass smothered in lipstick kisses.

Elvis was silent now. The needle on the stereo was stuck, so she exited to the faint sound of kerrrr…chrrr…kerrrr…chrrr…kerrrr.

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Listen Up All You Lustful Lotharios, Lovers, Loose Ladies and Lunatics

The submission box is up for the next round of the Seven Deadly Sins writing series…Lust. Have at it.

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Sloth – Post 4

Looks like MJ is hanging out here alone, today…

Here is the final entry in the Seven Deadly Sins Series:

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Inertia
By MJ Monaghan

Jason sped down the busy street as he ran his normal 10-mile route through the small beach town. The salt air refreshed and invigorated him. Back in the apartment his roommate Paul was debating what to do. His head churned with lists full of things to do, and unfinished projects waiting for completion.

Paul continued to be amazed by Jason’s perseverance. He had way more on his plate than Paul, but he still managed to get almost everything done on a daily basis. And Jason didn’t just “do things.” He did them all successfully. He ran 10 marathons in a year, each time bettering the last. College was completed in three and a half years. The 1968 Mustang “project car” his dad gave him – he restored it in a summer.

This of course drove Paul totally crazy, wondering why he couldn’t get anything accomplished.

***
Paul stayed up past 2 am every night, and slept through the entire morning.

His day started slowly between 12:30 and 1 in the afternoon. Paul would flip on the television and just “catch a quick half hour of news.” That was followed by watching an hour of Law and Order. Before he knew it, it was 4 pm.

Paul continued to beat himself up. He pondered:

How many stones could the Egyptians have moved in the time I’ve wasted? How far would Hannibal have marched?

What if Leonardo Da Vinci or Michelangelo cruised through life without any dedication to making the most of their time? What would we have? Utter rubbish.

***

Momentum, inertia – two words Paul kept hearing in his stuck mind. He needed a push, an event that could get him out of this funk. But days turned into weeks, and then months. Paul built up piles of wasted time.

It was an act of desperation.

Jason didn’t know what hit him. Didn’t know that his words …

As Jason finished up his afternoon run, he entered the apartment, and explained to Paul how great he felt, and what he would be doing that afternoon.

Muscles twitched as Paul picked up the frame holding Jason’s college diploma. Blood erupted from Jason’s head as he fell to the ground.

No pulse. Jason was dead.

***

In a way, Paul was finally happy. He would have 25 years-to-life to think about what he would do each day, and not have to worry about whether he got it done, or not.

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Whew…This was a bloody round, for the most part.

My stalwart judges will get back to you with the list of finalists.  Stay tuned.

 

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Sloth – Post 1

Seven Deadly Sins ~ Sloth

Seven Deadly Sins ~ Sloth (Photo credit: Leia Speia)

Well, folks, the submission box for the “Sloth” enties got hit by the spambots and I had to sort through a great many 3 word submissions, some of which may or may not have contained viruses.  I’ve been fighting with my computer and the spyware contained therein.  I think I have it all straightened out.   However, I may have blocked submissions (although the last one I tested went through).  If you submitted an entry and it doesn’t show up over the next couple of days, please e-mail it to me at k8edid2000@hotmail.com.

Without further ado, I present the first of the “Sloth” entries:  Please visit the authors’ websites to comment on their talent!  You may also comment below.  Thanks for reading, writing, and participating…

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From K. L. Richardson: (http://tempisfugit.wordpress.com)

As The Twig Is Bent

Even as a child Kathleen was never an exercise fanatic.  Long before the age of video games she spent her days deep in literature, dreaming of fantastic adventures in far-away lands.  The most she ever traveled was to the verdant woods adjoining her home, where she would sit for hours with her favorite book or simply watching the insects toiling on the banks of the creek.  She could spend whole days this way peacefully avoiding the harsh realities of life.  Her favorite spot was on the south bank; facing the north with the warmth of the sun on her back. In her teen years friends would come into her life staying for a brief time; it seemed that none were as exciting as her woodland empire.  While others were trying on the role of cheerleader, quarterback and class clown she was in turn, a princess, conqueror or queen.  Ordinary life could not compete against the richness of her dreams.  She was berated for her laziness; and as if to confirm it she shortened her name, now calling herself Kathy.

The world would not  be put off any longer, high school came and went, young adulthood and jobs took over her life.  On the outside she looked like she belonged in the world but inside she knew that all she wanted was to just…stop.  On the heels of jobs came marriage and children.  Again she shortened her name; becoming Kate (or ‘Mom’-even shorter).  Other mothers taught their children how to play ball, jump rope and climb trees. Kate taught her children the joys of sitting still and reading.  It looked for all the world as though she were tenderly reading to her children; she knew that once again she was escaping into her fantasy world, where movement was not required except to turn a page.  She was living in the city now, her beloved woods a thing of the past.  Life moved fast; soon there were grandchildren.  She now became K.

Marriage became difficult, it required you to do so much.  She tried  holding up her end of the bargain, but sadly couldn’t (or didn’t want to) dance fast enough it seemed. Her husband couldn’t understand what was wrong with her.  What was so difficult about living, getting out of bed, preparing a meal?  Indeed it was simple for most of the world.  Children grown and gone, eventually her husband too;  seeking a younger, more energetic playmate to amuse him.  Now indeed her world did stop.  No longer required to fix meals, or keep house (after all the cat was fine with clutter to play in) she turned again to her books, and her dreams of woods, queens and sprites.  If only she could find the wooded bliss that she enjoyed as a child.  K started to seek out parks hoping to find a glimpse of childhood forests but everywhere she went were people crowding, walking, moving for heavens sake!

One day she finally found it, a park skirting her suburb with wild, unpopulated areas that she could explore at her own pace.  She even found a creek!  Ah, bliss!  It began slowly, really an experiment on how long she could go without anyone noticing her absence from the world.  Gradually she spent whole mornings there, even forgetting to bring a snack…time stretched on and on, matching the pace of the insects on the bank.

Eventually her family realized she hadn’t been seen for quite some time; when they finally found her she had begun to grow roots, traces of soft, green moss starting to appear on her north-ward facing cheeks.

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From Isadora:  (http://insidethemindofisadora.wordpress.com/2012/6/19/lost/)

“Lost”

Tears run down my face as I watch my daughter walk down the aisle with her father. She is radiant. A beautiful young woman with jet black hair and creamy skin; her happiness glows all around her. Her father, looking debonair, is a proud man escorting his first born down the aisle.

The church is filled with family and friends. Some of the invited are standing. It’s a small protestant church. The gothic style interior is enchanting and quaint. It was a bit of a compromise for me as I had expected to have the wedding in a catholic church. I had to keep reminding myself that it was her wedding.

I near died when my limousine was one hour late. The first two limousines had left with their passengers yelling out of the moon roofs while flowers waved in the wind. I sat in my empty living room – waiting. It was a solitude I needed. I had been frazzled for so many weeks. Probably, my life frazzled from the first day my daughter brought her intended to my home. I remember thinking when we met: this is a wolf in sheep clothing.

He walked into her life and she walked out of ours. He was a smooth talker. She was an innocent young woman just getting out of a bad relationship. Her heart had been broken by an old fashioned macho man. He was a future doctor in the making but at a price of her losing herself to a submissive life. A broken heart can make you fall in love with another too quickly. She did.

Sitting here in this quiet room, I can remember the day she walked in the door and said she was engaged. She sprinted into my kitchen and made the big reveal of her ring. My knees went weak. Immediately, her father came to mind. He will not be pleased. His first words to me after the first introduction were: this guy is going to be trouble. He was right.

There were always underlying currents in his presence. We felt uneasy. He didn’t seem to care about himself or anything. There was a lazy and sluggish personality. He dressed in clothes that looked like he had slept in them. His hair was greasy and unruly all the time. He was unshaven. Later, he just grew a beard. He said he was lazy about shaving. He was a heavy smoker. It was a habit I detested. He reeked from the evil tobacco. He drank, too.  It was just beer; but all the time. He couldn’t articulate what he did for a living with enough detail for us to understand.  He was lethargic all the time. We worried he would never be motivated.

It was unnerving to give your child away to a man who was like this. We were pleasantly surprised when we met his very successful parents. It gave us hope. It would turn out to be a false one.

Honk! Honk!

I’m startled. The limousine has arrived.

Sitting in the backseat, I feel like I’m on my way to a death chamber.

Cheers at my arrival signal the impatience of the guests. A glorious roar disturbs the silence as I walk down the aisle to take my proud mothers’ spot.

The pomp and circumstance begins to play. I turn and see my sweet child wrapped in her fathers’ hold. A safe place she will never want again. Her life will be forever changed with a man who could not be more than a sloth. Our hearts are broken and sadly lost.

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From Lorna: (http://lornasvoice.wordpress.com/2012/06/21/tick-tock-an-exploration-in-sloth/)

Tick Tock: An Exploration of Sloth

Tick tock. Tick tock.

he didn’t have to open her eyes to know the sun was fully awake, Another day began without her.

“Not again,” she mumbled into her pillow as she slowly shifted her body—her slim but shapely body that felt like she put on 100 pounds over night. The sheets felt cool where she plopped her heavy arms and edged her leaden legs.

“Hmmm,” she purred as she relished the refreshing feeling. But still she languished, a lonely princess in her king-sized bed.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

She knew people were waiting for her. Again. She knew they thought she was being petulant and difficult—making they wait because she could, because they let her. If only they knew.

The sheets, once so cool, felt warm against her body. She struggled to move her dense, obstinate body to find a place where her sheets would cool her. Maybe they would motivate her to get up, shower, and face all the Watchers. “No, I need to rest. If only they …”

She drifted off to sleep hearing only the sound of her heavy sighs and the tick tock of the antique wall clock in her bedroom. It was the only clock in her home. She hated modern alarm clocks with their obnoxious bright lights, confusing controls, and incessant need to startle a soul from precious rest.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

“What?” Some unseen hand nudged her awake. She tried to lift her head off her pillow. The same invisible hand must have been holding her head down. Moving was an act of courage she couldn’t muster. So she lazed in her big bed and felt as small as the little girl she really was, immobilized by the choices she made and the ones she let others make for her.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Brrring…Brrring. Brrring…Brrring. Brrring…Brrring.  The telephone snapped her out of her thoughts.

She labored to grab the phone. The receiver fell out of her hands and banged into the mahogany nightstand. “Shit!” She heaved her stubborn body over the edge of the bed to retrieve the receiver. “Hello?”

“Are you alright? Everyone is here. You’re really late. Do you need me to send someone over?

“N…n…no. I’m fine. I had another bad night. Couldn’t sleep until almost dawn. Then I finally fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

“Should we just cancel for today or can you get yourself together?”

Tick tock. Tick tock.

“Did you hear me? Should we cancel for today? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, sure. I’m fine. I feel much better now. I’m even sitting up. That’s a big improvement from just a few minutes ago.” That trademark charm in her voice appeared on cue.

“Yeah, Baby. You sound better already.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, Honey, anything.”

“Why does sleep only find me when I’m supposed to be awake?”

“Aw, Baby, how am I supposed to know? Now get that money-maker out of bed and do what you do best.”

“Sure thing.” She hung up the phone after several failed attempts to place the receiver in the cradle properly because she was still lying on her stomach. Fighting to sit up, she took several deep breaths. Even the air felt thick as glue and hard to breathe. “Maybe just a few more minutes…” She rested her head her pillow.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

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Hurry up and finish that draft you’ve been working on.  What?  You haven’t even started?  Well, this is “Sloth”, so that figures….

Deadline is Thursday, midnight.  Just a gentle reminder.

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