Fiction

Thrill of the chase

He was never mine not really, not where it mattered.

For the most part, I am a shareholder. A greedy coveter grasping a ticket, a little piece of him that I believe is mine, until the next time. The next spin of the wheel, eagerly watching the bounce, wondering where the white ball will land, wondering if my time is near. Alas, lady luck was never a friend to me. And so shall he be, forever more on the move,free to roam to whichever ever table he pleases. I can but sit and watch agog whilst the women sigh and feign over him. My stomach knotting to see blood red fingertips brush his skin. My scorn rises as perfumed beauties fawn and blush to see him pass by, they even lean in to smell his sweet scent at times. my discontent clearly shown, I cannot help it.
He is not mine any more yet once he was and I am loathe to forget. The night we shared on the poker table, I recall the revelry in his caress. How I would pull him to my lips with each jubilant squeal. I remember the fire of anticipation before we touched, our first meeting of indecency, our indiscretion of sorts.

Our last meeting was so long ago yet still I yearn for you, still I sit and watch you work your magic on others, hoping one day your delights will come back to me. praying for a day you will return so I can love you better, and not let you slip so easily through my fingertips..
.

Mornings… ugh

Just a start of something more perhaps…

 

The alarm screamed into her ears to wake her violently from her dream. An arm jutted out from under the sheets and aimlessly patted the side table in an effort to find the source of the noise. After a minute of useless fumbling the sheets were thrown off and she grabbed the clock with both hands, hitting it into quiet submission.

‘I hate you!’

She screamed at the clock as she slammed it to the floor. Stumbling into her slippers she cursed at the cold air and having to get up so early, she hated mornings anyway but Monday was always the worst. Grabbing her robe for warmth she made her way to the bathroom in a sleepy haze, luckily she managed to navigate the route on auto pilot most mornings.

Turning the tap on she pondered her tired face in the mirror as she waited for the water to heat up. Poking her tongue out at her reflection she thought about how nice it would be to just go back to sleep and ignore the world but she knew that wasn’t an option. So instead she splashed her face with tepid water until her eyes were fully open and brushed her teeth begrudgingly

NaNoWriMo – The Unearthing of Memory

So I thought that I might take a different challenge for this month and jump on the NaNoWriMo band wagon. I’m not sure that I will have the time spare to keep up to date with the amount of word needed but I guess even if I do half the amount then it’s good practice for freeing up some creativity.

Obviously the NaNoWriMo is not about the polished article so the writing is not edited but I thought it would be nice to pin up a start to see if anyone wanted to have a read through and let me know what you think of it as a start.

 

 

The Unearthing of Memory

 

The shovel chimed out a warning as it hit something hard and metallic in the dirt. Katrina stopped digging and held up the torch for a better view, moving the beam slightly until she caught a glimpse of something shiny. Crouching closer to the ground as she realised there was indeed a small silver corner poking out from the damp soil. She felt her heart pause as she reached out to touch the metal, see if she could feel the engravings hoping that her search had finally come to an end.

                                                                                          ~~~
Katrina awoke from her vodka fuelled haze in the morning, furry tongued and fuzzy eyed. Wiry hair sprouted from her head like an ebony nest emerging from a stormy night. Her dreams clinging to her thoughts like reeds in the wind of a desecrated field once full of hope and now forgotten. Reaching over to grab the glass from the dresser she viewed the bubbles created from the heat inside the clear liquid yet continued to drink it or at least try. Throwing her neck forward and letting out a loud hacking cough she realised that the glass was not water like she had thought. She just managed to slam down the glass whilst attempting to compose herself and stop her throat burning. She really didn’t remember pouring that last vodka. Torn between the need for a drink and the effort it would take to reach the tap instead she slumped back into her bed and pulled up the covers, sleep would stave off the need for a little while longer.

It was hours later before her eyes drifted open and she found her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and knew that still would have to force herself to move. Swinging her legs off the side of the bed she almost solidified into form, dragging her body across the floor as though her arms were made of lead. By the time she had shuffled to the sink and realised there were no clean glasses left she had almost given up. Allowing the tap to run for a few seconds before she tested the temperature with her fingers and swung her head under the cold water. Lips gulping from the stream like a wild animal in the heat lapping up water from a drainpipe. When she had finished she cupped her palms together and filled them with liquid refreshment before catapulting it towards her face.

“Aargh”

She shook her head realising that a headache had started to settle in as her body tried to compensation for the alcohol finally leaving her. Her mind racing and showing glimpses of the previous night’s highlights, or rather low lights and the memories she could recall were hazy at best.

Looking around the room for clues to jog her memory she noted the crumpled red dress on the floor next to a black and red chequered stiletto and a messy blonde wig. She smiled as the thought came back to her of the fancy dress party from last night.

It had been seven o clock by the time she had got home from the office and worked her way through the traffic on the underground. She remembered checking the time as she tumbled through the door, hot and sticky from the rushing and wanting to clean off the grim of the tubes. She loved living in London yet travelling on the underground always made her feel dirty somehow, all those people squashed up inside a metal box, it just wasn’t natural.
Kicking off her sensible court shoes and peeling off her beige suit she walked towards the shower as she undressed, flinging the clothes at the chair in the corner of the room. Once inside the bathroom she reached across to turn the shower on, jumping back from the first cold blast of water and standing back as it warmed up. She remembered noting to herself at the time that she should really get the landlord to take a look at that but he made her so uneasy that she hated to have him inside the flat whilst she was alone.

After a quick shower she felt refreshed enough to start getting ready for the party and she was so looking forward to it. Smoothing her fingertips over the invitation she almost squealed in her excitement. She had really been lucky enough to get an invite to the Baldrick mansion and the gold embossed words in her hand confirmed this. Every year she would hear gossip from others in her office block as they boasted of their night in the wondrous exclusive parties thrown by Nigel Baldrick, self made millionaire who wasn’t afraid to show it. Well this year she was all set to surprise those higher ranking bitches in the office as she turned up with an invite after an accidental meeting in the elevator.
The party was always themed and this year it has been villains so Katrina had immediately seized the opportunity to wear her favourite pair of stilettos from the new hot designer Clarissa Ingleton. She had spent a whole weeks wages on the shoes and it wasn’t often she had cause to wear them, but the party meant she could design a whole Harley Quinn outfit around them.

Looking in the mirror as she applied the finishing touches to her outfit: adjusting the blonde pigtails and pressing a red and black leather mask to her cheekbones she felt ready…ready to show that she, Katrina Scarlett was good enough to mix with the beautiful people of London.

After stepping out onto the pavement from her doorway it wasn’t long before she was able to hail a black cab and arrive in style to the party (or at least no having to catch a tube). As she arrived at the mansion she held her breath as she realised just how big and intimidating the building really was. She had always know where Baldrick’s place was yet she had never been to that side of town, had never had need to and now she was feeling slightly scared at turning up alone. Kicking herself for turning down Mark’s offer of a lift and a partner to enter with she teetered out of the cab and onto the red velvet carpet that been placed she assumed especially for the occasion. Looking up she realised that she was still a way from the front door and the carpet spilling out from the door and over the steps were making her feel even more nervous.

‘You can do this Katrina’ She whispered encouragingly to herself as she tightly clenched her clutch bag and strode forward.