The writing prompts continue!
Mom and I were discussing different things, and I mentioned another type of writing prompt I had used once before. Long ago, back when I still wrote on Effy’s RP, Big Bear Butt introduced a writing challenge. I was intrigued, and participated, writing The Secret of the Scythe. Mom thought this was a great idea. So we decided to try it.
Today’s story word list is was created by Mom.
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Twelve words prompt:
As with most good-intended disasters, it started with an innocent mistake. It is those same indiscretions that fuel strife and distress between lovers, laying imperfections naked, exposing past mistakes, shattering the bonds of fidelity.
The morning started with Sandra’s giggle, prompted by the scratchy tickle of Ryan’s goatee against her neck. Light touches turned to heavy petting and then to deeper bonding.
Their lovemaking climaxed and the coupling ended abruptly, for it was Monday. They both prepared to go in their separate directions to work.
Sandra lay in bed a moment longer, her body cooling too fast and giving her a chill. It was a lonely shudder that escaped her, despite Ryan’s presence only a room away. She frowned at the brief thought and rolled over onto her side. The picture of them at Myrtle Beach, smiling and touching each other, filled her vision. Thinking on that day made her sigh and made her get up.
She shuffled into the kitchen. Filling the carafe absently, she started a pot of coffee, but only half a pot because Ryan did not drink it.
The friar cookie jar, an old Christmas present from Ryan’s tactless mother, sat judgment on the counter. Sandra shot the fat and jolly ceramic a dirty look.
Ryan came up behind her, and luckily could not see the frown on her face. He kissed her cheek and rested his chin in the curve of her neck. “I love you,” he whispered against her ear, and his warm breath tickled.
She turned in her husband’s arms and hugged him back. “I love you too.”
Then, the tender moment came tumbling down around her.
“I know that you want to talk about adoption, but I just don’t know if I am ready for that right now,” Ryan said softly into her hair.
The blood rushed to her face and roared in her ears in a cacophony of noise. The sudden change in blood pressure and emotional stability nearly took her legs out from under her. She knew Ryan noticed because his arms tightened around her, but she pushed him away, fleeing from the room and the stabbing comment that still hung in the air.
The blanket was strewn across the floor. It seemed appropriate, that disorder. There was no method to the maddening thoughts that fluttered through her mind at that moment.
A choked cry was the first noise that escaped her. Sandra’s eyes stung with the tears that threatened but did not yet fall. Her legs went weak as his comment repeated again in her head, stabbing like a knife in her gut. She let herself collapse forward, and as her face hit the pillow, a whoosh of air escaped it and expelled a single downy feather.
Her soul was a bowl and it had never been more empty.
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This story and all related material are the original works of Awaiting the Muse and Jamie Roman AKA Effraeti. All rights reserved.
Awaiting the Muse by Jamie Roman AKA Effraeti is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at http://awaitingthemuse.wordpress.com/.