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Sunday, June 10, 2012

Kimmydonn Week 107: Fairy Dust

This will be the final post for the Photo Prompt Writing Challenge blog. It seems fitting that our Kimmydonn has the last post as she is the last remaining original member of the blog. In just over the past two years, this blog has stirred the creative juices of its participating writers. While some have come and gone, we have all shared the same love of writing and a desire to push ourselves with this challenge.

None of this would be possible without the original idea by Nostalgicmiss. Her initial genius idea is what has brought us all together. It has been a pleasure to be the third and final 'host' of the blog. Thank you for reading and following us along the journey.

-Burntcore



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Kimmydonn
Sunday




Picture 1


Picture 2


Kimmydonn's Choice: Both

Title:

Fairy Dust


Genevieve didn’t often have time to sit and watch the world, so tonight was a special treat. She floated gently to a perch on the edge of one of the many tall buildings around the city. She’d visited one child, appearing in her closet to assure little Monica there were no monsters in it. She already knew she would be needed in another home just a few blocks from here where a boy would wake from a nightmare and need help to get back to sleep.

Sitting on the ledge, her wings folded away, disappearing entirely while she watched the adults bustle around in vehicles and on foot. Only adults. All the children were either in bed or on their way to bed. She missed the time when adults would call on her, when there was enough magic in their hearts to believe in fairies and make wishes. Her jar of wishes had been depleted over the centuries, but she could count on one hand the number she had pulled out in the last hundred years.

The contraptions that stole the attention and dreams of adults, did the same to children, only a little more slowly. They stopped playing games of pretend and moved to games on their devices. There was no room for Genevieve in the life of a child who didn’t imagine.

“I wish I could find a way out. If only I had a fairy godmother to get me out of this mess.”

Genevieve perked up. No one said things like that anymore, and if they did, they didn’t believe in fairies. But this woman did. This woman had been beaten so badly, so regularly, that she thought magic was her only way out. Lacy fervently believed that some form of magic existed that could save her.

Jumping from the top of the building, Genevieve pulled out her jar, hugging it to her chest. Her wings unfurled and she glided and flitted to a dark, dirty apartment. For the first time in a hundred years, Genevieve felt hope.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

BronwynK Week 107: Early Friendship

Bronwyn Keith
Saturday


Picture 1


Picture 2


Bronwyn’s Choice: Picture 1

Title:
Early Friendship


Ashley tapped the end of her green color pencil against her chin as she studied her drawing. It was simple but embodied what happened the previous day. She had always felt like an outsider. Being an Army brat does that to a girl. The constant moving never allowed Ashley to make good friends.

“Is that a picture of me?” Tyler’s voice broke her concentration. She looked up and smiled as he sat across the table from her.

“Maybe.”

“I think it’s a good likeness, except the pants aren’t long enough.” He smiled at her. She couldn’t believe her luck in making friends with this hunky cowboy. “Why the umbrella?”

Ashley looked back at the drawing trying to decide how much to tell Tyler. She didn’t want to scare him away with how lonely and desperate she was for friendship.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad of a story.” He said as he took one of her hands in his. The gesture calmed her nerves. She took a deep breath before starting her explanation.

“I’ve always felt like an outsider. With my dad in the Army and my mom gone, I’ve been alone a lot of the time. I rarely make friends because we're always being transferred to another base. When you offered your friendship, I wasn’t an outsider or alone any longer. So the picture is of me alone in the rain, but you're offering comfort and shelter.” Ashley slowly looked up, afraid of what his expression might be. He gave her hand a small squeeze, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I have a confession to make.” Tyler said quietly. Ashley lifted an eyebrow at him, encouraging his confession. “I didn’t approach you because I wanted to just be friends.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Ashley saw the red creep up his neck. He was embarrassed about asking. She smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Yes.” She said. Tyler gave her a heart stopping grin.

“I’m glad.”

As the bell rang for afternoon classes to start, neither stood. They sat holding hands staring at each other.

“I guess we better head to class.” Ashley began to stand, still holding Tyler’s hand. He picked up her drawing pad and then left the common area hand in hand.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

MCGT Week 107: Bohemian Enchantment



MCGT
Thursday




Picture 1


Picture 2


MCGT's Choice: Both
Title:

Bohemian Enchantment


She was unlike anyone I’d ever met. Standing almost six feet tall, she had an uncompromising quirky taste in fashion and acted like she didn’t care if you thought she looked pretty or not.

Of course to me, she was perfection all wrapped up in window dressing she didn’t need. It never mattered what she wore on the outside, because if you knew who she was on the inside, you’d never again care what she was wearing.

Her heart beat, just like every other person, yet it felt like it wasn’t for her own benefit, but yours. When she smiled at you, big and bright, you never wanted to be without it again. She had a way of eclipsing everything that was around her. Like the sun, she was the center of my universe and I felt lucky that she was all mine. She’d filled my heart with a love so pure and enchanting, I never wanted to live without her again. My life before her was a dim foggy memory that I barely could pull from the depths of my consciousness.

I could only gaze at her perfect face, barely illuminated in the darkened room, and know I would happily wake up beside her for as long as she’d let me.

“Why are you staring at me?” she mumbled, her raspy voice sounded like home even heavily laced with sleep.

“Can’t I appreciate the beauty of my fiancee no matter the time?” I teased, rolling her into my chest so I could kiss her plump bee-stung lips.

Rubbing her leg across my erection she murmured, “You’re utterly insatiable.”

“When it comes to you, I admit that’s true.”

I felt her smile against my lips, while she shook her head in mock disgust. “Well, the feeling is usually pretty mutual, except, I do like to sleep, so if you have any intention of doing something with that big dick of yours you’d better hurry up.”

I didn’t need any further encouragement, and pulled her fully on top of me, sliding my erection into her with a measured slowness, enjoying the feel of her body accepting all I had to offer.

After making love we lay in our large bed, basking in the humid evening and the moonlight streaming in through the gap in the curtains. The light danced across her delicate curves, accentuating them in shadow as my fingertips trailed across her heated skin.

“I’m not sure why you love me, but I’m glad you do,” I heard her whisper just as I was about to drift off.

“I’m not sure either, but I unequivocally do, forever and ever,” I replied, kissing the top of her head that was laying across my chest.

“Glad the feeling is mutual,” she joked sleepily, but I knew deep beneath her funky tough exterior was a fragile woman looking for acceptance that I would willingly give her for the rest of my life.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Lisamichele17 Week 107: Parenthood

lisamichele17
Monday


Picture 1


Picture 2


lisamichele17's Choice: Picture 1

Title:
Parenthood


BPOV

I think the most beautiful thing in the world is to see is when two people in love become parents, especially when the couple, Leah and Angela, have struggled so strongly to have their own children.

They both tried everything to have children until they both took the adoption route. The process required a lot of patience and time.

During this process, Edward and I had been living together in my apartment. We both haven't lived with other people like this before. The love we had for each other grew stronger, but at the same time we also had to get used to seeing each other a lot more than normal.

We also learned about each other's quirks.

We also searched high and low for the perfect house for us to move into. We were very specific at what we wanted and the houses we looked at were nice, however, they didn't have the whole package for us.

In September, Leah and Angela told us that after a long search, they had officially begun the process to adopt Tanya, Irina, and Kate from foster care. The triplet's parents had been in a terrible car accident when they were on their way home.

Edward and I really wanted them to come to Portland to meet them but, it couldn't come at the worst time possible. Edward was beginning teaching, and I was on my way to NYC for two weeks for an assignment that I couldn't do at home.

On my way home from the assignment, Edward and I got the best news. He had found a house that would be perfect for us. He was so excited about the house that he took me straight from the airport to take me to it.

He was right. It was perfect. It had everything that we wanted. It gave us so many benefits. Leah and Angela's new family could stay with us, and we could meet the triplets, finally.

A/N: Thank you for reading.

This is how I see Edward and Bella's house: http://www.windermere.com/listing/OR/Portland/3812-Ne-145th-Ave-97230/10967306?refer=

Note that this house has a option mother in law space. Just in case Esme and Carlisle decide they want to be closer to Edward and Bella ;-)

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Kimmydonn Week 106: Conquerer


Kimmydonn
Sunday



Picture 1


Picture 2


Kimmydonn's Choice: Both

Title:
Conquerer


It had been a game. Tracy ran over the sand, kicking sprays behind her. He lurked behind, swerving from side to side, driving her toward the water. She twisted just past him up onto rocks.

“No, Don!” she squealed in a way that wasn’t going to stop him.

“Mine!” He captured her, sweeping her off her flip flops. It had been fun, a lark. She had been completely unprepared for his lips on hers or the way her heart raced when it did.

“I win. You’re mine,” he declared, kissing her again, possessively.

Her heart fluttered as her friend of years, for the first time, became something more.

“Uh, Don, you can put me down now.”

“I really don’t think I can.” His voice was breathy. "I think I need to mark my conquest.” His mouth closed on her neck, sucking deeply.

***

Don couldn’t believe things had gone this smoothly, this quickly. His friend was beneath him, around him, and he was sure he was going to die in her arms.

Tracy watched him fall apart, his face a shining example of pleasure crossing into pain. She twisted a little harder on the chain attached to his nipple ring.

“Mercy,” he moaned, rolling away.

She grinned. He had been so certain that she would be begging him to stop, sure he would be the conqueror as he had been on the beach.

“I win. You’re mine,” she declared, pulling on the chain and bringing him close for a kiss.

“Hail the conquering heroine,” he said with a chuckle.

“Fetch the conquerer water, will you?” She stretched languorously on the bed as he obeyed.

Friday, June 1, 2012

MuseCalliope Week 106: Special Day

Muse Calliope Friday


Picture 1


Picture 2


Muse Calliope's Choice: Picture 1

Title:
Special Day


She spun and spun, her short purple skirt fluttering around her waist as she danced to the orchestra’s quick paced melody. Daddy had brought her here for a special day, just the two of them, hiding from the Court and the Wicked Stepmother in a time and place no one would ever think to look. Daddy had tried to make extra, extra sure that this day would just be the two of them, their special, special day.

Already they had gone to the park and played on the swings and visited the zoo where most of the wild animals had forgotten they were wild. She thought that was sad but Daddy said it was best for them to forget what they couldn't have so she guessed that was okay. For lunch, Daddy had brought her to a restaurant with a big yellow M above it and she'd had something he called a 'happy meal' with flat little chicken lumps. She had seen lots of other little girls and their daddies doing the same things. And now … now she and Daddy were at a party just so she could spin and twirl in her purple dress and blue tights and black shoes surrounded by a sea of mortals spinning and twirling right along with her.

Suddenly Daddy scooped her up, coming out of the crowd as if it wasn't even there. He gave her his special smile - the one he kept just for her - and tossed her high into the air again and again. She giggled and laughed, flailing in the air like a wiggling bird. When Daddy caught her and brought her close, she wrapped her arms around Daddy's neck, hugging him tight.

"Gráím thú, puisín," he murmured. I love you, kitten.

"I love you too, Da," she told him. She pulled back so she could see his face. Her and Daddy had the same sky coloured eyes and when they didn't hide it with magic, their hair was the same bright red and their ears had the same pointy tips. Her nose was Mommy's though; that's what Daddy always told her and she was happy she got to look like Daddy and a little like Mommy too. She laid her hands on Daddy's cheeks and smiled. Daddy smiled back. "I wish we didn't ever have to go home."

Daddy sighed and for one whole second he looked tired and kind of sad but then she blinked and Daddy was smiling again, his eyes twinkling with stars. "Me too, kitten," he said, "me too."

"I know we have to, Da." They always had to because her and Daddy were special - everyone needed her and Daddy to go home and Daddy said it was their duty. "I just wish, wish, wish we didn't. Home ... home won't be home forever."

"No, kitten," he agreed, "it won't be. But it will be home long enough, I hope, and then you will find a new home."

She nodded; she already knew that. Daddy told her that all the time, but she liked to hear it anyways. Auntie Bhan called her Cinderella and she was a big enough girl now that she understood what that meant; one day she wouldn't have Daddy to keep the monsters away and keep her safe, one day she'd be all alone. She didn't have Auntie Bhan's powers. Her mommy was Auntie Bhan's sister but Mommy's powers had been different; Auntie Bhan saw ahead but Mommy saw beyond. Her powers were like both Mommy's and Daddy's but not exactly the same. Daddy said that was good; that meant her powers were just hers. And that was why she knew Auntie Bhan was right; because her powers told her so.

But Daddy knew too and told her not to worry so she didn't.

Instead she laughed and giggled as Daddy held her hands and spun her around and around, her short purple skirt fluttering around her waist as they danced to the orchestra’s quick paced melody on their special, special day meant just for the two of them.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Sydney_Alice Week 106: Dare to Dream


Sydney Alice
Thursday



Picture 1


Picture 2


Sydney Alice's Choice: Picture 2

Title:
Dare to Dream


When I was twelve, our favorite game to play at sleepovers was “Truth or Dare.” I always asked for truth, because I was afraid … of everything. Heights. Spiders. Tornadoes. The dark. You name it, and I was afraid of it.

I was afraid of the truth too, but at least that didn’t involve me actually having to do anything. It was a one-word answer, always.

True.

False.

And if I had to lie, so be it.

My phobias followed me to high school. I’d always been a decent student (I sucked at Algebra but excelled at English), and I’d always loved to write. I wasn’t afraid of pen and paper. I wasn’t afraid to pour my soul into a poem or short story. In that world, I could be anything. Do anything. Say anything.

I could be brave.

My senior-level Honors English class was full of future doctors and lawyers. Compared to theirs, my dreams for the future seemed mediocre. Teaching? Writing? Music? A combination of the three? My friends were going to colleges on the other side of the state, but I was content to attend our little community college right here in town.

I was afraid.

My English teacher had a banner on her wall. Her classroom was drab, just like all the others, but this one colorful banner hung proudly.

Dare to Dream

Instead of reading Macbeth, I would gaze at that banner and think about my childhood, wishing that, just once, I hadn’t been afraid to take the dare.

Then I realized I had my chance now.

I could dare to dream, couldn’t I? Daring to dream didn’t involve heights, spiders, or the dark.

I could dream with pen and paper, right?

So, that’s what I did.

Eventually, pen and paper were set aside for a computer, but I continued writing. I wrote fact and fiction. I wrote love and heartache. I wrote silly poems that made sense to no one. I wrote about a wizard with lightning on his forehead, and I wrote about a sparkly vampire and his immortal love for a mortal girl.

And now I’m writing my first novel.

Dare to dream.

You never know what might happen.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Lisamichele17 Week 106: Love, Actually

lisamichele17
Tuesday


Picture 1


Picture 2


lisamichele17's Choice: Picture 1

Title:
Love, Actually


BPOV

The look on Edward's face when I asked him about moving to Portland was priceless. Even five months later, he still has a permanent grin upon his face when he sees me. The man continually loves me like no other.

As soon as the prom was over, he led me to his Land Cruiser. Our lovemaking has always been passionate and tender.

That night he lost all control. I have never seen him like that before.

Halfway to Jasper and Alice's house to pick up Alby, he pulled off to the side of the road, claiming he could not wait ravish me. And he did that, indeed.

The look on Jasper and Alice's faces when they saw us was a mixture of amusement and surprise.

When we got to his apartment, we took Alby for a walk around his neighborhood and then put her in his tiny back yard where she has a dog house.

When we were getting ready to go to sleep, Edward asked me about my apartment situation since I moved to Portland. I explained to him that I was able to secure a six-month lease at the same apartment complex as him. He was thrilled about that. I was so surprised that he didn't want us to move in together, but he explained that even though he is thrilled to have me living in Portland, it would have been too much to move in together right away.

I agreed with him, completely.

That night he showed me how excited he was that I was moving to Portland.

In fact, he showed me, three times.

The best thing is that Edward's lease is up in June. He has been wanting to have roots in Portland and really wants to buy a house. He has told me he wants to be closer to where Jasper and Alice live because Lily and Alby could also play together.

The plan we have in play is that when his lease runs out, he will move in with me and look for a house for us to live in. We both agree that it would be best for us to live together before we get married. I have to admit that marriage is not the most important thing to me. We both want happiness. Our love should always be outward, not inward. We don't want to forget our families and friends because we are together.

The best thing about me moving to Portland still keeps me close to my family in Forks and Seattle. His parents continue to live in Chicago but, we both have hope that they will eventually move closer to us. They are getting older in age and we both want them to be closer to us, so we can help out with things they might need.

We may be enticing them a little with the idea of being closer to their grandchildren, eventually.

Monday, May 28, 2012

Happy Memorial Day!

Americans far and wide celebrate Memorial Day today, remembering those whose sacrifice allow us the freedoms we enjoy every moment of our lives. Regardless of who is President, our country is protected by the brave men and women who put our safety and security above their own. Today, no prompt will be posted in memory of those who allowed us to write and create without fear.


Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, VA


Thank you.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Kimmydonn Week 105: Aflame




Kimmydonn
Sunday




Picture 1


Picture 2


Kimmydonn's Choice: Picture 1

Title:

Aflame


The back of the car was a tight fit for both of us, especially as we tried to move around one another. His elbow was in my ribs, then my stomach, then my thigh. Each time stabbing. Each one was followed by a caress, either lips or fingers. Apologies flew on both sides as he lay on my hair, I kneed him in the groin, my foot caught his knee and he fell atop me. Eventually, we were both unclothed, panting, and we hadn’t even done anything serious.

“You need a bigger car,” I told him.

“Agreed. Too sore or uncomfortable to continue?” he asked. It had happened before. By the time we got as far as even heavy petting, we were both too exhausted to want to do anything more.

“No,” I said with a small smile. “We must be getting better at this.”

That made us both laugh. He was still flaccid against my thigh. Getting maneuvered like this, was not terribly arousing. I wasn’t ready either, but we knew how to take care of that. Reaching between us, I took him in my fingertips, gently touching. He gasped once and then moved his hand up the inside of my thigh, over my hip, up to my breast. He ducked his head to suck on my nipple as I twisted my hand to hold him.

We played like that until we were both eager for what came next. I felt like I was burning as he touched and teased and probed. He rubbed himself along my slit, making both of us wetter, both of us gasp.

“Ready?” he asked. I felt the tip of him pressing, ready to thrust in. This would be my first time. Was I ready?

“Yes,” I said in a whisper, holding onto his neck. I lifted my hips, trying to control the motion. It didn’t work. As soon as I moved, so did he and I tore open.

“Ah!” I screamed in pain.

“Oh, Donna. Donna, I’m sorry. Donna, are you okay? Fuck. This sucks.”

It took a few shallow breaths. “Just-just hold on,” I told him, clenching my eyes shut against the tears that flowed down my cheeks.

“Oh shit, don’t cry. I’m so sorry. What did I do?”

I chuckled. “Exactly what you were supposed to do.” He slipped out of me and I held and stroked him again. “Let’s just go back to this.”

He grit his teeth but didn’t argue. His fingers took the place of his shaft and I felt pleasure again instead of pain.

“Here I come, Donna.” I held him tight pointing him up. The white gel hit my belly and breasts, warm and wet. I sighed a little as it did; his pleasure was my pleasure.

Except it wasn’t. He doubled his efforts on me as I let him go. He used one hand to push me up a bit and shifted himself down, his face level with my navel.

“No, Ricky, you don’t-” I cut off as his mouth closed on me, making me tip my head back. “Oh, God.” I groaned. I felt fire in me, I felt burning in belly and below. The fire seemed to flare out of control, filling my vision, my ears, my nose.

The scene outside matched the one in. A great ball of orange fire consuming everything.

Friday, May 25, 2012

BronwynK Week 105: Ròs an Dùbhlachd

Bronwyn Keith
Friday


Picture 1


Picture 2


Bronwyn’s Choice: Picture 1

Title:
Ròs an Dùbhlachd


A light layer of snow coated the barren ground. It was the first snow in six weeks. There was a hush over the land, as if nature held her breath. The cold December air caressed Aine’s cheek as she stood at the entrance of the cave, watching and listening.

Her sword was strapped to her hip. Her dirk was in her boot. The bow and arrows were attached to the saddle on her horse. She pulled the cloak over her shoulders, pulling the hood over head to hide her tell-tale red hair. If she wanted to arrive in Aberdeen that evening she would need to ride hard for the day, but first she needed to get herself and her horse to the valley.

Confident that it was safe to leave the cave, Aine led her horse along the narrow path back to the base of the hill. Not far from the hill would be the main road that went to Balmoral Castle. The ground was wet and muddy from the light snow as it melted. It wasn't going to be a warm day, but not cold enough to keep the snow on the ground.

As she picked her way over the rocks and tree roots, she thought about her brother. Ian was the reason she was so far from home. He needed to come home. Their father, Angus, Laird McDonnell, was ill. It was time for Ian to return from fostering with the Laird Gordon to take his place among the Clan. It was known that Angus was gravely ill. Two of the neighboring Clans made a bargain and joined forces to eliminate the McDonnells. But they wouldn't attack until Angus was in the ground and the clan was in chaos because of the lack of leadership. After months of sending men to retrieve Ian with no results, Aine crept out of the castle one night to get him herself. After sleeping mostly in the bracken and heather for three days, she was cold and tired. She was ready for a hot meal and a warm drink. She was only a day's ride from both of those and a warm bath.

Aine reached the bottom of the hill and mounted her horse. She pointed her mount toward the road. As they moved forward, she watched and listened for any sign that she wasn't the only human in those woods. Aine knew the stories of outlaws living in the woods and did her best to stay on guard. But she wasn't as helpless as many of the women in the stories. Angus made sure his only daughter knew how to use a sword and bow. He didn't want her dependent on a man to survive.

As she approached the road, Aine heard a branch snap. She silently slid off her horse, pulling her knife from her boot. Only large animals like deer and horses would make a branch snap that loud, and the deer rarely got so close to a human. She moved to her horse's head just as he raised his head and looked to his right. She followed his gaze and saw another horse and rider approach.

The cloaked figure stopped his horse and watched her with his piercing green eyes. Even with his cloak on she could tell he was broad across the shoulders like her father. He lifted a gloved hand and pushed back the hood of his cloak. His black hair was pulled back from his angular face. His jaw was covered in a few days growth. On most men it would have made them look unkempt, but it just added to this stranger’s masculinity.

“Lady Aine, I’m guessing?”

“Aye, and ye are?” She watched as he dismounted his horse. Under his cloak she saw that he wore the plaid of the Frasers. She knew instantly that he was sent by her father.

“I’m Malcolm.” He said with a slight bow of the head. “I’m here to escort ye to Balmoral Castle.”

“I dinna need an escort.”

"That may be so, but I swore an oath to Laird Angus. You will be delivered first to Balmoral safely than returned home with your brother."

Aine let out a frustrated sigh. She left a note for her father telling him not to worry about her.

"If ye insist on accompanying me, ye best keep up." She turned to her horse to mount but paused when she saw the flower. It was a beautiful rose covered in the morning snow and slightly sheltered by a large fern. Her mother always said the goddess Brigid would provide a sign that she met her mate. She never expected it to be so beautiful. Aine moved away from the rose and mounted her horse. Her mother will be happy to hear that Brigid made a good choice for her daughter. However, Aine wasn't convinced.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

MCGT Week 105: War Waged over Time



MCGT
Thursday




Picture 1


Picture 2


MCGT's Choice: Picture 2
Title:

War Waged over Time


Flipping through the passage of time, I remembered what it felt like to be young, to be free from the cynical weight the world presses upon you as you age. How had I gotten here? Although I’d arrived at this place in my life, I had little recollection of the winding route that had brought me.

At which point did I become so lost? Where should I have taken the path that led deep into the wood, guiding me to a far different place than where I was now?

I yearned desperately to go back, to scrub my life of the last twenty years and begin adulthood all over again. To try things I’d been too afraid to try. To be the person I hid from others, so unsure of myself and how people might react if they knew who I really was, deep in my very core.

Yet life is an unforgiving master, never yielding or ceasing to press forward. I had no choice but to continue on, with a vow to better what I could, and release the regret of the past. Because no matter how I tried, regret would be a bitter reminder of what I’d given up to follow the fold. Dying my wool white, conforming to what was expected will always be a dark shadow in my eyes. Something that cannot be undone, only remedied if I was strong enough. Willing to give up anything and everything to be who I was meant to be, instead of the carbon copy of everyone else around me.

But talking about it and doing it were two very different things. Weighty and colossal decisions, not to be taken frivolously. Yet time would continue to tick ever on until I finally wrestled my last demon to the ground and taken what was rightfully mine all along.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Lisamichele17 Week 105: Prom for Teachers

lisamichele17
Monday


Picture 1


Picture 2


lisamichele17's Choice: Picture 1

Title:
Prom for Teachers


EPOV

Before I even realized, it was April. Initially, the months that passed between me and Bella being together actually became easier. I longed to be nearer to her, but the weekends that we spent together was beyond worth the wait.

If possible, my four-year-old golden retriever, Alby, became even more attached to Bella than I was. Initially, I thought that was odd because before Bella, I dated. To make this very clear, I was never a man who slept around. The women whom I did date never really bonded with Alby.

Whenever Bella came to my place, Alby, would pounce on her. It was hard having Alby in this apartment. I really wanted to get a house in the Portland area. Every time I thought about getting house; I would have visions of Alby, Bella, and children. Bella and I talked about marriage. We both agreed it was something that we wanted, eventually. Truth be told, I wanted it all with her.

I was really lucky in a lot of aspects. When I was teaching, my best friend Jasper and his wife, Alice watched Alby for me. They have a house near Portland and its close enough that I can drop Alby off on my way to school. It was a perfect situation because they also have a golden retriever, Lily.

Tonight, I am at the Portland Art Museum for prom. It reminds me of what my prom was like, full of hijinks and pranks although I never got caught. It makes me think about what it would have been like to have known Bella during high school. I like to think that I would have noticed her anywhere. I loved how even in our pasts, without each other, seemed to have the same path. I have a strong belief in fate, and that is why we met when we met. It makes me wish that Bella could be here for this prom, but she had something urgent come up at work.

The museum is absolutely beautiful. When I was growing up in Chicago, my mom and I, would go to many museums. My favorite was the Museum of Contemporary Art. Maxfield Parrish is my favorite artist.

I find myself looking at Water Lilies by Monet, when I feel arms wrapping around my waist.

“Hi, handsome.”

I know that voice anywhere. I have no idea at how Bella somehow managed to surprise me, but she did. I turn around quickly, not only to touch her but also to see her.

My god, she is so damn beautiful.

She is wearing a short and sleeveless off white dress, that shows every inch of her long legs. I let my eyes wander up towards her face, lingering on her shoulders. When I make it to her eyes, I see her smile. I'm about ready to ask her how she could get into the museum and away from work, but then she surprises me even more.

“How would you feel if I moved to Portland?”

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Kimmydonn Week 104: Green Monster

Kimmydonn
Sunday


Picture 1


Picture 2


Kimmydonn's Choice: Both

Title:
Green Monster


Justin sat beside Lisa, leaning in to tell her, “I brushed, promise.”

Lisa snorted. She’d only met Justin the night before at the airport. She wouldn’t have noticed him at all except Ford recognized Justin’s guard, Darren. They’d only exchanged a handshake, but today, he’d be undressing and kissing her. The strangeness that was a shooting schedule.

“Lisa,” Mike called, light meter in hand and Jennifer, from makeup, beside him. “Set up?”

Lisa sighed and lay down on the sand. Two faces filled her vision as they hovered over her. Then they called Justin, who lounged on one arm, his elbow near her ear.

“Ready?” he asked, brown eyes soft, light shining off the skin of his bare back. He’d tossed his shirt before leaving the sidelines.

Lisa’s mind reviewed the scene, recalled her character and his. He was Donovan. She had thought he was gone for good, leaving her for a job and woman in Paris. He had come to surprise her. With all that in mind, she nodded and closed her eyes.

“Action!” the director shouted.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

Blinking, she opened her eyes to find Donovan hovering over her head. “Good dream,” she said lazily, lifting her hands to cup his face.

“Not a dream,” he promised. “I’m here for you, Angela.” Angela shifted, but Donovan lowered himself, kissing her. “Really here.”

“But...Paris.”

“Didn’t have you,” he explained.

“It had her,” Angela said, pouting.

“I don’t care about her. I’m here for you.”

Lisa shivered and fought losing Angela entirely. It was often difficult when she felt unfamiliar hands on her ribs and breast. The kiss was intrusive, too, until she got her hold on Angela and reached to run her fingers through his hair, to pull him closer, to allow her shirt to slide off. They continued to grope for a minute until the director cut the shot.

Lisa pulled her shirt back on and sat up for Jennifer to fix her hair and makeup for a second take. She leaned back on her elbow to face Justin.

“So, how was Paris?” she asked. He had been shooting there the week before.

“Beautiful as ever. You’ve been?”

“A few years ago, yeah.” She nodded.

“Lisa?” a familiar voice called. She sat up at Ford’s feet. He handed her a bottle of juice. She wasn’t sure because of the angle, but he seemed redder than usual.

“Excuse me, Justin,” she said, reaching a hand to Ford who pulled her to her feet. He was flushed. “Something wrong?” she asked.

“Maybe. You don’t mind if I take off ‘til the end of the shoot?”

Lisa was surprised. Ford had been staying around longer, through more of each shoot. She’d gotten the impression he enjoyed it.

“Sure. I’m fine. You sure everything is okay?” she asked, resting a hand on his arm in concern.

“Yeah. You’re...really believable.”

Lisa smirked. “You mean I’m not normally?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Of course you are. You’re just not usually so physical.” He cast a dark glance at Justin, which Lisa followed. Her eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, Ford.” She grabbed both his arms.

“Lisa!” the director called.

“Just a minute,” she yelled back. “Ford, take some space, but I want to talk about this tonight.”

He stiffened, straightening. “Talk?”

Lisa let him go and turned back to Justin. “It should be a good conversation,” she told him, donning Angela again, eager to be reunited with Donovan.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Alby Mangroves Week 104: A Quiet Man


Alby Mangroves
Saturday



Picture 1


Picture 2


Alby Mangroves's Choice: Picture 1

Title:
A Quiet Man


There are days when Charlie hardly rubs two words together. The job is his life; it keeps him busy and needed—things he craves—but even a quiet man can yearn for some comfort.

He remembers the fiery love shared with Renee with nostalgic fondness for their youth, and he misses Bella something fierce, her serious, faraway eyes, her quiet presence.

Sue, though, she’s different.

He loves her gentle affection sweeping over him like a mild sea, smoothing rocks into pebbles.

Her hands are like an embrace around Charlie’s heart, steadfastly warm and golden brown. In those loyal hands, he finds himself.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

SydneyAlice Week 104: Dearly Beloved

Sydney Alice
Thursday


Picture 1


Picture 2


Sydney Alice's Choice: Picture 2

Title:
Dearly Beloved


She walks down the aisle, lovely in her flowing white dress and gorgeous smile. In her hands, she carries a bouquet of pink and yellow roses, perfect in their shape and color.

Perfect like her.

She’s glowing, as all brides do on their wedding day. The crowd murmurs in appreciation as she makes her way closer to the altar. Closer to her destination. Closer to her bridesmaids. Closer to the groomsmen.

Closer to me.

Closer to forever.

I watch, mesmerized, as her father lifts her veil. Her eyes catch mine, but it’s brief because he leans close, kissing her cheek and blocking my vision of her.

She’s the only girl I’ve ever loved.

With a smile as bright as the sun, she steps toward the man at my side and wraps her hand in his.

My brother’s hand.

They face the minister, and I force a smile while dying inside.

The hardest thing in life is to watch someone you love, love someone else.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

107_yroldvirgin Week 104: The Day I Fell

107_yroldvirgin
Tuesday


Picture 1


Picture 2


107_yroldvirgin’'s Choice: Picture 2

Title:
The Day I Fell


The day I fell, it happened twice.

Once to the ground. And once for you.

We’d walked this road before, every single day for almost a year. Your house. My house. Half an acre and a million miles apart. The new boy who never spoke and never even looked my way. The new boy who sat in the back of the bus with his head down and eyes shut, miserable to be here.

I knew the feeling.

Both of us walking the same quarter mile beneath a grove of bent trees overhead. A canopy to cover us. Together. Apart. So alone within two feet of one another.

And then, as sure footed as I’d always been, my attention had been unfocused for just the briefest of moments, thinking of you and wondering what you were thinking of ... and I didn’t seen the divot. Hadn’t anticipated the ground as it rushed up to meet me, face first in the dust, those trees overhead still giving shade, rustling with a faint breeze while I’d burned red from the inside out.

You stopped. Turned and knelt, your eyes the brightest most heartbreaking blue up close. And you’d whispered my name, asking if I was all right. Hand to my head, brushing dirty locks of hair from an even dirtier face.

You helped me to my feet. Brushed off my backpack. Walked me the rest of the way home and stood off to the side of my mailbox as I climbed the three steps to my front door. Making sure I was okay and that I had my keys and got inside safely.

Yes, that was the day I fell. The day you spoke my name. Like I existed. Like you were waiting for an excuse to say it out loud.