It’s been a while, huh? I don’t have a real post for you and don’t see one coming in the very near future, so here are a couple of fast fics to tide you over. I’m continuing the Budgie Barnett Fast Fiction Challenge today with titles “He Wore Tangerine Velour” and “Nightfall in Skegness”. As previously explained, I’ll write fast fiction of exactly 200 words using titles from Barnett’s blog. (Click over to this post for a full explanation.)
You can’t help notice a man like that, a man who walks into a room like he owns the joint. A man who looks and talks like he knows everything and everyone. He sashayed into the club, gold on his pinky ring flashing. He wore orange from head to toe. Even his socks were orange. I had never seen a man more high on himself before. He walked through the room, aware that every eye was on him, making his way to my table. I held my martini and my tongue when he sat down, uninvited. I knew what he wanted before he opened his mouth.
“What’s a fine-looking woman like you doing in a hole like this?” He looked me up and down and absently tapped a cigarette on the back on his hand.
“You look ridiculous, and that line is pathetic.” I sipped my drink to hide my smirk.
“Well, you look smashing,” he said, a little deflated.
“I don’t know the 70’s disco lingo.” He shrugged and grabbed his beer. His sheepish look made me laugh aloud. I held my drink out.
“Happy Halloween, love.”
He clinked his glass on mine and smiled. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart.”
This is my favorite time, this perfect meeting of twilight and autumn, when the heat of the day is tempered by the gently crisp breezes. The moments when the daytime noises and the nighttime noises meld in a beautifully chaotic chorus. I love it because, even though summer is dying and winter is coming, even though day is dying and night is coming, is seems that in that brief space everything is at peace. Sometimes, if you catch if just right, you can feel the world take a breath. It’s those times when I think that if I listen hard enough I can hear the trees speak and the flowers sing and the earth hum. So I sit in the fields with the birds and the bugs and I hold my breath and wait to hear those voices. I wait until the daytime creatures say their good nights and the nighttime creatures say their good mornings before I trudge back up the hill. I whisper my goodbyes to the world, hoping it’s not my last autumn twilight. I wait until the last possible moment, until I can hear the not-so-distant whistles in the air, then climb down into the bomb shelter.
Be sure to click through the titles to see Budgie’s stories, and give him a comment or tweet if you like what you read. And as always, don’t forget to be awesome!