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Author Archives: Chelle

NaNoWriMo

Go ahead! I’ll wait for you to pick yourself up from the shock of seeing me post something. I’ll watch a little YouTube and drink a cup of coffee while you gather your wits about ya!

Shockingly enough, I am back and going to start off with announcing that I am going to complete NaNoWriMo 2014. I’ll check in every few days to let you know where I’m at with the help of my nifty little progress meter.

I’ll also be looking for some new sites to participate in writing prompts or challenges. Seems like the ones I know have shut down or disappeared. If you have any suggestions, let me know.

I am off to start my first day, with 50 minutes of Day 1 left!

Good luck to all of you!

 

 
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Posted by on November 1, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

Hidden Truth

Storch-Badge

Your challenge this week is to use this line as a fourth. It can be used anywhere in the story as long as it is in a 4th position (8th line, 12th line, 16th line, etc). Please be sure the line stands out from the rest of your text by bolding or italicizing or enclosing it within quotes.

Charlie Higgins assumed most grown folks viewed the world cloaked in an aura of thick, murky darkness. His earliest recollections of life manifested in muffled tones of anger capped with fear and dread. It was often those memories which pulled him into troubled slumber.

Charlie barely recalled fleeting images of his birth mother. His young mind didn’t comprehend who she was but he welcomed the warmth her image instilled in the hollowness of his heart. Snippets of a young face twisted with laughter as familiar to him as the uncertainty of his young life. Instinct instructed him to never question the parents raising him.

Until recently, he’d assumed the wrinkled, slightly stooped over lady was his mother. Hadn’t he called her ‘Mama’ for as long as his lips could form the word? The elderly man, permanently scented in stale smoke and whiskey fumes was ‘Papa’; the male half of the puzzle.

It only came through an argument between his ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa” his world became confusingly clearer. They’d consumed their daily “liquid medication” quite early that morning after an unexpected call. Normally, Charlie stayed clear during the morning ritual but the phone call had piqued his curiosity. Conversation peppered with curse words centered around an unknown female. Charlie scanned his memory banks, trying to follow their anger. Whoever she was, there would be hell to pay. “This is Charlie’s mother,” a drunken voice mimicked.

Disbelief swallowed Charlie as the floor gave way. Mouth gasping soundless as the memories of the woman made sense. He stood from behind the chair, ignoring the shocked expressions on ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’s faces. Things had been much better when he had been hidden. Yes, much better when he’d been hidden from the truth he knew he wouldn’t be able to escape.

 

One Too Many

mancontemp

Well, hello there friend. Mind if I bum a smoke from you? What? Oh, you thought you’d hidden your dirty little habit? Technically, you have. At least from the mortal world. Ah, thank you. Not much of a talker, are ya. Insert a chuckle here. I don’t possess the actual ability to laugh. One of the curses I get to carry.

I don’t know why these cigs are given such a bad rap. Do they not fulfill their function above and beyond expectations? Think about it. You inhale to feed your addiction. It provides you the relief you seek. Can’t think of a sweeter poison.

Normally, I don’t make personal appearances but your thoughts have been, how shall I put it? Annoying? No, not quite. Alarming? Neh. It’s the ones who never entertain the thought who alarm me. Not interesting either.
Does my candidness offend you? I thought not. No need to feign you’re astride that high horse. No siree bob. You’re pretty mediocre at best, I’d say. If I were judging you on a scale of one to ten, I’d give you a minus three. Insert that chuckle. No my friend, you don’t possess any of that hoopin’ and hollerin’. You almost slipped under the radar. So subtle, you sneaky little bastard. Insert a shit eating grin here.

Did you know your partner suspects you of embezzling? Yeah, yeah he does. Pretty convinced it’s you. Don’t that beat all though? Letcha in on a secret. It’s his mistress robbing you blind. Know how ditzy she plays? All an act. She’s Mensa material, that one. Anywho, she’s setting you up to take the fall. If it comes down to it. Gotta love a girl who plans.
So, there I was, sitting in my flames, minding my own business. Believe that or not. Most folks don’t get I don’t come looking for souls. They come looking for me. Kinda pisses me off how you simple mortals twist facts to fit your limited, inadequate ways of thinking. But whatta gonna do? But I digress. I’m sitting there, going over the month’s quotas. Yes, yes, we do have quotas to meet. Much more competition than one might realize.

I stumble across a little oops in my numbers. I don’t have a lot of room for errors. Everything is carefully planned out. The big guy upstairs knows everything there is to know about you before you’re even conceived  That’s where the challenge for me comes into play. I have to find a way or ways to upset the apple cart, so to speak. Wanna know what the mistake was? Thought you’d never ask!

I have one too many people for the month. Can’t say that’s ever happened in the history of my ruling. Hell, I even shot a quick prayer up to the big guy when I realized what was going on. Wanna hear a funny? I think he answered it. Go ahead, insert a good ol’ chuckle for me. That’s how I started hearing the murmuring of your thoughts.

If I do it, will the insurance pay? What if the insurance doesn’t pay? Will the kids hate me? Will it bail out the business? Will Myra remarry? Should I make it look like an accident? How should I do it? Pain? No pain?

Pretty common thoughts, wouldn’t ya say? Now, as much as I’d like to accommodate your solution to your problems, I have to simply ask that you not follow through on your intentions. I’m not really sure what would happen to the dynamics of heaven and hell if you throw the numbers askew.

How ’bout I have one of my guys seduce the hell out of the mistress, get her to trip up? Set it up to where she takes the fall and you’re in the clear? Once that ball gets rolling, things will start looking up, dontcha think? No pressure or anything for a decision. Just that I need an answer in an hour or so. Gotta get the corrected figures to my accountant so we can close out the month.

I’ll sit over here and letcha think, my friend. Mind if i bum a cigarette? Never a sweeter poison, I say.
For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Barb Black gave me this prompt: reconsidering.

I gave Jester Queen this prompt: a lingering scent, a bus, a phone