“Girls” Night In

promptly penned

Welcome! If you’ve never seen read Promptly Penned before, we’re given a . . . wait for it . . . prompt and we have to use it to write a short piece. Easy peasy! The prompt this time is dialogue and it will be in bold so you know what it was. Enjoy!!

 

Maggie settled back on the couch with her feet kicked up. She hadn’t been sure she could swing hanging out with her two best friends, but, once Mrs. Hutchinson had convinced her she would take the kids Maggie had agreed. It was tough being solely responsible for her two younger siblings, but Maggie couldn’t do anything else. She loved them.

Grace pranced out of the kitchen followed by Joey. Both were carrying bottles and glasses as they sang off key at the top of their lungs. Good thing Grace’s apartment had solid walls or else the party would end before it got started.

“Have we missed anything?” Joey asked, handing Maggie a champagne flute.

“No, the Grammy’s aren’t on yet and I can’t drink this.”

“Oh yes you can, it’s sparkling grape juice. What do you take me for? I know very well pregnant ladies can’t have alcohol”

“Yeah, he’s way smart,” Grace said with a smile. “He graduated from Yale and is a lawyer.”

Maggie laughed since that was Joey’s pat line for explaining why he was always right. Grace had taken to tossing it in before he could. It always made the three of them laugh.

“That’s right,” Joey said. “Yale. Lawyer. That’s me.”

“Joseph P. DeMarco, Esquire,” Grace said, putting on what she called her haughty rich lady accent, which really consisted of her attempts at a bad British accent.

Maggie sipped at her drink and shrugged. It wasn’t bad for sparkling grape juice, of course, to her, anything was better than champagne. She couldn’t stand the stuff while her friends guzzled it like water.

“Here’s to our first official Girls Night In,” Grace declared, holding her glass up.

“I love this,” Joey said. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Dude, you’re one of the girls,” Grace replied.

“It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Maggie told him.

“Ah, thanks girls. So, let’s dish. Grace, how’s it going with Calvin?”

“He’s old news. I haven’t talked to him in ages.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Ages? You saw him last week.”

“Whatever, it’s been so long I’m probably not interested in him anymore.”

I’ve seen his Instagram,” Joey shot back, “you’re definitely still interested.”

Maggie nodded. “You’re liking and commenting on his feed all over the place. Not that there’s really much to like. The man isn’t the brightest bulb in the pack.”

Joey nodded. “Sharpest pencil in the case.”

“Brightest crayon in the box,” Maggie continued.

“You two are mean,” Grace declared.

“She only says that when we’re right,” Joey told Maggie.

“The Grammy’s are on,” Grace pronounced primly. “We should watch it.”

“Avoidance,” Maggie said, “that means we’re really, really right. And she knows we’re right, but he’s called her and she’s going to go out with him.”

Grace ignored them by turning the TV up and Joey sighed dramatically.

“Yep, she’s going out with old dim bulb. He must have a big peen since he really can’t carry on a conversation.”

Maggie burst out laughing and finally Grace broke and began to laugh too. Yep, Maggie decided, Girls Night In was a success.

 

Now head over and see what my amazing friend Siobhan did with the prompt.

 

“Wake Me Up”

 

once upon a time

This month’s song we’re basing our flash fiction on is Wake Me up by Avicii. I’d hear this song before, but didn’t know the name or the artist. Sadly, I also found out he died, which is a true tragedy.  If you’re interested to hear the song, here it is:

This piece is the beginning of a book I’m writing. It’s not Entangled, but one I pull out and work on when I’m stressed at work. *shhhhh* Don’t tell. As soon as I heard this song, I instantly thought of Tessa and her situation. Hope you all enjoy!

 

She stared at the two small lines in confusion. It wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be. And, yet, here was the evidence. Again. She looked around the bathroom at all the other little sticks and every one said the same thing. She was pregnant.

Feeling light-headed, Tessa put her head between her knees and concentrated on breathing. Just breathing. As she did, her mind whirled. How? When? She was fairly confident if she’d been sexually active she would have known. Sex wasn’t something a girl forgot, even shitty sex. Tessa knew, with certainty, she hadn’t had sex. Ever. In fact, she’d purchased the first pregnancy test as a joke. Sort of. She knew she couldn’t be pregnant but wanted to be able to tell the doctor’s office that she’d taken one, so they could get down to figuring out what was wrong.

Eleven tests later, she knew. Pregnant.

Tessa sat up trying to figure out when her last period had been. June? July? Shaking her head, she went out to her bedroom and dug in her purse for the organizer that went everywhere with her. Her friend teased her for writing down every single event, no matter how trivial, on the pages, but she’d never missed an appointment, birthday or celebration. Tessa was organized. Scarily so, her best friend Kenyatta had declared.

Flipping backwards, she studied each week until she found her last period. It was a little over two months ago. Two months. How had she missed it? Okay, yeah it wasn’t hard since she was no longer on the pill, per her doctor’s instructions, and her period was hit and miss at best. So, once again, the question went back to how.

Divine intervention? She almost burst out laughing at that. She couldn’t imagine any god looking down and thinking she’d be a perfect mother. Okay, maybe Loki. Hey, if it was Tom Hiddleston she might think about it. Since that wasn’t possible, at least she highly doubted it, something had to have happened. What though?

“Tessa?”

She started and looked up to find Kenyatta standing at her bedroom door. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was well after five. She’d gotten nothing done and the day was almost over. Okay, she’d taken eleven pregnancy tests and came to the realization she was pregnant, but beyond that nothing else.

“Tessa? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air. Hearing them said out loud, Tessa’s palms started sweating and her heart pounding. She was having trouble swallowing and starting to sweat. A lot. Freaking out. She was freaking out. She sat on her bed and once again, put her head between her knees and concentrated on breathing. Yep, passing out would be bad. She couldn’t pass out.

“You’re what?”

Her best friend’s voice sounds as though it were coming through a tube. Since, Tess knew that couldn’t really be happening, she continued to concentrate on breathing. Can’t pass out, she kept repeating. Wouldn’t help anything if she did.

A cool cloth covered her neck and an arm hugged her tight. Yep, no matter what, she could always count on her best friend. Neither had much family, or at least family they claimed. On top of that, they were both smart. Really smart. Like genius level, though Tessa didn’t feel like such a genius right now. But, on the first day of freshman year of college, they decided to be each other’s family. And, it had stuck. Now, nearly seven years later, Tessa knew she had someone she could count on one hundred percent.

Kenyatta pulled Tessa to sit up and put her arm around her.

“Okay, now, tell me again what’s going on.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I saw all the tests in your bathroom.”

“Yep, and they all came out positive.”

“How? And don’t be a smart ass. I know you haven’t been dating and, unless you had a booty call that I don’t know about, you aren’t seeing anyone.”

“Nope, no booty calls.” Tessa agreed. “I, truly, have no clue. Now isn’t that something? I’m twenty-three and have no idea how I’m pregnant. I just know all the tests say I am.”

“Why did you even think you were in the first place?” she asked.

Tessa shrugged. “I’m not sure. I started getting sick, my breasts are tender, of course no period, and I’m really tired. And, I just feel different. Does that make sense?” At her best friend’s nod, she went on. “Okay, so I went onto one of those doctor websites—”

Kenyatta rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Tessa, what have I told you about that? Did I not forbid you to go on any of those? You know you always think you have the plague or some weird disease that you couldn’t have in a million years.”

“Not every time,” she argued. “The one time I diagnosed myself with pneumonia with it.”

Kenyatta stared at her and Tessa huffed out a breath.

“Whatever, so I went on and it said I might be pregnant. I wanted to rule that impossibility out, but it didn’t. I failed the pregnancy test.”

“Yeah, I saw, like eight times.”

“Eleven. I took eleven of them. I would have taken twelve, but I don’t think I have any pee left in me.”

Her best friend nodded. “Okay, so we’re ruling out divine interference.”

“Yeah, I already came to that conclusion.”

The two women looked at one another and smiled. It was so awesome to have someone who understood her. No matter what.

 

Bronwyn    Siobhan

July 2018 Top Ten!

07-Top 10_ Things I'd Want if I Were Trapped on a Deserted Island

Welcome to the randomness that is the Wednesday blog. This week is a really awesome top 10 and it’s something that I’ve thought about before. So, here, in no particular order, are the things I’d want/need/require if I were trapped on a deserted island.

First, I’d have to have books. Tons and tons of books. I love to read so what better way to pass the time than reading.

books-in-home-library

Second, I’d have to have my laptop. I would finally have time to write in quiet so why waste it?

Next, I’d have to have music. I couldn’t survive without it. And have you noticed nowhere on this list is food or a place to sleep. Yeah, a girl has her priorities.

Third, finally, is a comfortable shelter. Like this:

_MGL3866-m

Number 4 a magical kitchen that would just give me food. I can cook, but don’t like to so a kitchen that just makes me food would be a must.

#5 I would want to have my kitten with me. I can’t imagine going anywhere without her.

Six, a hunky man to do all the heavy lifting and such. Oh and to keep the above pool clean. Ummmm, someone like

22687547_1494844873935822_8649260817000509989_n

Huh, is it getting hot in here? *fanning* Anyway, what number am I on???

Seven, I’m on seven. I would want my crafting projects. Especially my knitting and cross stitch. After I’ve written and read, and done whatever with Jason I would love to spend a quiet evening doing cross stitch. And yes, that’s what we all call it.

#8 – A cell phone to call my friends.

Nine is wine! I would want to have yummy wine on my island of pleasure.

And finally, number ten a huge boat so I could bring my sister and friends in to visit.

crn-86m-explorer-yacht

 

Bronwyn

April Photo Flash Fiction

FlashFicPHOTO

This month’s picture is surely one that will inspire some interesting stories. I, on the other hand, stared blankly at it until two of my favorite flash fiction people Cara and Spencer popped into my head. I wrote something with them in December and January, so we’ll take another peek into their lives. Hope you enjoy it. Oh here’s the pic:

04-2018

 

The gallery was packed. People gushed over the artist, the artwork, the food, even the clothes worn by the guests. The whole thing gave Cara a huge headache. Her cousin Stacy—no scratch that—Deerdrah, she’d changed her name since Stacy wasn’t the name of an artist. Cara thought that was stupid since her name was Stacy and she was the artist, but whatever. Anyway, Cara’s parents had insisted she attended Deerdrah’s opening.

And who the hell had come up with the spelling of Stacy’s new name? Cara was sure the ditzy woman would go on and on about how it reflected her personality blah blah blah. Stacy had talked incessantly since they were kids and she doubted she’d changed much since then.  Thankfully, she’d spent just long enough to let Stacy know she was there and to congratulate her. If she was lucky, Cara would get out before having to see any more of her family.

After the holiday fiasco, Cara now limited her involvement with her parents. They didn’t like the man she was engaged to and wanted her to break up with him. Cara didn’t care what they wanted. She was in love with Spencer. End of story.

Her phone signaled she had a text. From Spencer. Intrigued, she unlocked it and found he had given her directions to where he was in the gallery. Following his instructions, she rounded a wall and found him standing alone in a small alcove. Damn, he was hot, from the top of his six-four tattooed body to his feet Spencer was everything she wanted in a man. Stepping up to stand next to him, she focused on what he was looking at.

The photo was bizarre, to say the least. A female, maybe, doll with hair that defied gravity and streamed at an angle from the doll’s head had some kind of wires plugged into her back. In the background looked to be a jar with lights in it, at least, that’s what Cara imagined it was since the only thing in focus was the creepy doll silhouetted against the lights. The name of the piece was Rebirth.

“Wow,” Cara muttered. “That’s interesting.”

Spencer nodded. “Yeah, it’s something.”

“I haven’t really paid much attention to what’s hanging on the walls. Are they all like this?”

Spencer shook his head. “No, this one is probably the best out of everything.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad.”

He finally caught her gaze and smiled. “You want to know what’s worse? This is one of the few pieces that haven’t sold.”

Cara leaned into him and he slid his arm around her waist. They stood together and stared at the image a moment more.

“You know what’s really bad?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“What?” he murmured against her ear.

“I think her parents have bullied a lot of people into buying this stuff.”

“Okay, that sucks.”

She laughed softly. “Yeah, could you imagine being stuck with this stuff? What would you do with it?”

He nuzzled her neck and she shivered. Without thinking, she tilted her head to give him more access. The man could turn her on without even trying and made her lose her head. Now here they stood, hidden from view of a crowd, and she didn’t care.

Spencer nudged her head up and took her lips in a kiss. His beard rubbed gently against her face as he slid his tongue into her mouth. The dual sensations made her legs shake. Cara ran her hands up his arms and locked them behind his head as he molded her body to his. The man made her lose her head, he was the only one to ever affect her in this way.

He pulled away but kept his arms around her as voices neared their hiding spot. When her parents appeared, they would just see Spencer holding Cara as they stared at the ugly photo on the wall. At least, that’s what Cara hoped they’d see.

She smiled pleasantly at her parents, though she still hadn’t forgiven them for the horrible Christmas dinner. She’d made it very clear to them that Spencer was the man she loved and they were engaged. If her parents chose to continue to act like jerks, Cara wouldn’t see the anymore.

“Mother,” Cara said.

“Cara, what did you two find?”

When she and Spencer stepped aside her mother and father studied the photo quietly. Finally, her mother shrugged.

“I don’t get this modern art. I suppose though if you two like it that’s all that matters.”

Cara started to object, but her father spoke, cutting her off.

“I’ll go talk to Deerdrah about it. I think it will make a nice wedding gift.”

Her parents moved off as she and Spencer looked at one another and began to laugh.

 

Now head on over to see what the other bloggers came up with.

Bronwyn     Siobhan