No foul play

well

 the speakeasy at yeah write #151

No foul play

“Life had once been defined by linears and absolutes.”

Gerry stopped writing and shut his diary with force. Anger and sorrow struggled with each other to gain foothold. Sorrow won. He missed her. If only…

He went and stood by the window. Night had decided to wear her star spangled coat and was busy romancing the full moon. He closed the window. Such beauty pained him.

His mind went back to the time when all was orderly, or so it seemed. His Dad was a soldier and was home only on short holidays. He was a good father and a dutiful husband but nothing more. His mother on the other hand, was an artist with a passionate temperament, which she kept well hidden under routine. He was an ordinary boy living an ordinary life.

Then one day, when he was fourteen, it all changed. His Dad came back from Afghanistan sans his right leg. Wallowing in self –pity, his Dad took to the bottle. His mom tried her best to take care of the family by taking up odd jobs but it was not enough. She had been a beautiful woman, but her face stated to lose its glow with the constant worry. Soon, his father started becoming abusive. Initially it was only verbal but then it escalated into physical blows.

Life dragged on, with no respite for the family. The only silver lining on the black cloud called “crisis” was Gerry’s excellent grades at school.

One night, when Gerry was sixteen, he found his mom in the basement painting the walls furiously. He was astonished to see the vibrant colours and bold strokes that she used. He watched silently, as she added a cobalt blue and then contrasted it with a flaming orange. Later he convinced her to let the artist in her take charge.

She surprised everyone by excelling in her chosen field and very soon, many art galleries were showing interest in her work. She had her first independent show, when Gerry turned eighteen. Soon after, he left for college on a full scholarship. Life seemed to have steadied itself.

At college, he made friends and enjoyed studying. He received letters from his Mom which told him about her shows and he was happy that she was tasting success. He was unable to visit home for the next two years as there were some extra courses he had opted for which needed him to stay back during the breaks. So, when he went home, he was a little puzzled to see his mom looking radiant but a little flustered, as if she had a secret.

Two days before he was due to return, he learnt of his mom’s secret. She told him that she had met Bud, another artist-a sculptor- six months back and they had fallen in love. However, as his mom was not free there was no future for them. Gerry was happy for his mom and expressed his wish to meet Bud. A meeting was arranged and he was pleased with his mom’s choice. However, his Dad posed a problem. He was not ready to let his wife go and said”no” to divorce. His drinking and violent behaviour took a turn for the worst. Bidding her a fond farewell, Gerry promised his mom to be back during Christmas to find a solution.

But that was not to be. Six weeks to Christmas, he received news about his Mom’s death and had to rush home. Police officers said that they had found his mother lying with her neck broken at the end of the stairs leading to the basement. Possibly she had slipped .They ruled out any foul play as his Dad was found dead drunk, on the sofa in the hallway. Gerry had his reasons to believe otherwise.

A few days after the funeral, Gerry plied his Dad with drink after drink. He kept egging him on and implying that he was glad his mom was no more. Still, his blood froze when he heard his Dad confess.

“Ah, I hated that bitch! Pushing her that day felt damned good. No one leaves me!!”His Dad growled in a slurred voice.

A week later, Gerry slipped back into the house, unnoticed, and pushed his drunken Dad down the stairs. He was satisfied to hear the squelching sound his Dad’s head made when it struck the corner of the marble slab at the bottom.

Police ruled out any foul play, again.

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This was written for the Speakeasy weekly writing prompt, the speakeasy at yeah write #151 ,which is to write a piece in 750 words or less (mine is 748 words,including the title) (a) using “Life had once been defined by linears and absolutes.” as the first sentence,and (b) include some sort of reference to the photograph posted above, taken by Czintos Ödön.If you are interested in reading all the entries or joining the challenge please click on this url- http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/151-open/

speakeasy2

 

The Crusader

Speakeasy #149

MurielStreeter

 

The Crusader

“Don’t blame the sinner, “whispered the cloaked figure, bending over the terrified, supine girl, a dagger poised over her heart.

“CUT!” shouted the Director.”Robert, for Pete’s sake put some menace into that whisper. You sound like you have a bunch of tadpoles jammed up your throat!”

The unit sniggered. This kind of scenario was common when Robert was shooting.

Robert shuffled his feet, looking like an errant school boy, embarrassment writ large on his angelic features. His face was his biggest asset and helped him get some bit roles. This time it had been a meatier role as he was playing the Villain.

“Take 22! Let’s roll-Robert, no mistakes this time”, the Director growled at him.

Robert sighed and took his position.

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It was drizzling and the streets wore a deserted look.

The inky darkness of the night pressed on from all sides, making visibility poor. The atmosphere burgeoned like a pregnant woman, on the verge of giving birth to some evil spawn.

Through the gloom, the lights looked almost feral.

The dark figure stood in front of the cottage in the second lane. There was something about the stance which made even the street dogs stay away. The hood was drawn over the head  and there was no trace of anything below-as if darkness had swallowed it whole, leaving behind an empty shell.

A woman‘s silhouette could be seen through the lacy curtains on the window. She was reading.

After a while, the figure moved and disappeared into the house through the shadows.

The figure entered the room and silently went and stood behind the woman. Sensing a movement, she turned and opened her mouth to scream but before she could, the figure held her swan like neck and snapped it and her head lolled.

Picking up the body, the figure moved out of the house and dumping it beside the neighbour’s garage,walked away.

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 He is 10. He has been naughty and so has been sent to his room. But there is a party at the house and he loves parties and good food. So he decides to slink into the dining hall before the guests arrive. As he enters the passage leading to the dining room, he hears strange noises from his parent’s bedroom and peeks in. He is surprised first and then angry to see his Uncle and Mom kissing each other. Then his heart jumps to his throat as he hears them plotting his Dad’s murder. That night he hides and watches helplessly as his handsome Dad sips the poisoned wine, standing under his favourite painting, “The Chess Queens”.

When the Police arrive, well placed clues lead them into believing that the butler has a hand in this murder and so he is jailed.

His mother acts the bereaved wife perfectly, looking oh so fragile and heart -broken. To him, she looks eerily like the lady in the black gown and veil in his father’s favourite painting.

Ironic, for soon she will look like the ghostly white one standing opposite the lady in black.

Six years later, he kills his Uncle in the same manner and manages to pin the murder on his mother. She rots in jail for a murder she did not commit, mourning for her lost love, yet unable to express her grief openly. He enjoys seeing her lose her rosy hue and gradually become ashen and frayed, falling to pieces like a moth eaten blanket.

Vengeance is his.

Growing up, he realizes that there are more Moms and Uncles in this world than he cares for and they all need to be taught a lesson.

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Sometimes it is his angelic face and at others his bumbling manner which makes the needle of suspicion always point elsewhere-lucky Robert!

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This is written for speakeasy writing challenge #149.For this week’s challenge we were required to use  the following sentence as the FIRST line: “Don’t blame the sinner.”Secondly, we had to let the artwork above ,”“The Chess Queens,” by Muriel Streeter, influence our writing and last but not the least ,submissions had to be fiction or poetry and be under 750 words.(mine is 633,including the title).If you are interested in reading more submissions or joining the challenge,click on this link- http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/149-open/

At the stroke of midnight

 For the speakeasy at yeah write #147

At the stroke of midnight

“There was a time when things were different. When I was young…”

 Amused laughter and snatches of conversation filtered through the living room into the kitchen where Christina stood at the sink washing the dishes. She was used to such sessions of group study at her house. Gary, her husband was a renowned Professor at the university.

She finished washing the dishes and started dinner. The students would be leaving any minute and she did not want to be caught on the wrong foot.

Few minutes later, she heard the door close and tensed. Gary strode into the kitchen.

“What’s cooking? Smells  good.” His arms went around her waist and he started nuzzling her neck.

“Its pot roast”, she replied, trying to put a smile in her voice.

His fingers were already busy undoing the buttons of her blouse.

“The food will get burnt, “she protested mildly but to no avail.

Gary took her on the kitchen floor, while she clenched her teeth to stop herself from crying out. She knew he was watching her. Any sign of discomfort or pain would just egg him on. Sex was not for pleasure but something he used against her, to inflict pain and humiliate her.

She could smell the food burning and involuntarily her eyes moved towards the stove. That was enough to tilt the scales. Gary shoved her away with such suddenness that she banged her head hard against the worktable and she cried out.

“You flat chested cold fish! Not even the best plastic surgeon in the world can help you.” He jeered.

With that, he left the kitchen and shut himself up in his den.

Christina knew better than to call his bluff. She was a size D and very attractive. She had been very popular all through college and even now, at parties, men sought her out.

Looking back on her three years of marriage she wondered how she had not seen through Gary’s veneer of decency. She had ruminated on this many times but each time she concluded that she had had no way to gauge it. Gary had played his cards very smartly.

 In their six months of courtship, he had always been gentle, courteous and attentive to her every need. He was well established, had his own house, and was respected in the community. No one would ever believe that the same man could behave in such a manner.

She too had not-the first time it happened. They had been married two weeks and had returned after seeing a movie. As she was taking off her jewelry, Gary grabbed her roughly, tore her dress off her back and had his way with her. She was left bruised; a little shocked but she was still very much in love and thought this just added another shade to their colourful life.

She couldn’t have been more wrong!

She remembered how one afternoon he had returned home and started dragging her to the bedroom. When she protested, he growled, ”Why not? Am not good enough for you, eh? Or is there someone else giving you what you are refusing me?” He had then beaten her leaving her numb with shock and pain.

Another night, in one of their intimate moments, he had suddenly slapped her and said, “You Bitch! Do you think I don’t know? Fantasizing about your dream lover, aren’t you?”

The pattern continued without any respite. Initially she tried to get him to go for counselling but was laughed at and punished severely.

Christine knew no one would believe her. She had no one to turn to-Gary had made sure of that.

Deciding enough was enough, she started her quest for freedom. She used different internet cafes in the neighbouring town, every time she went online. No use leaving tell tale signs.

New Year’s Eve.

Christine, beautiful in her off shoulder floor length burgundy gown .The full sleeves, gathered at the wrist looked divine. Her French knot looked regal.

She watched Gary enjoying himself. Oh, how he loved being the cynosure of all eyes! Well, it would be the last time he did, she mused.

At the stroke of midnight, the lights dimmed and everyone rushed to hug and wish each other. In a flash, Christine stabbed Gary with her poison tipped stiletto knife, and moved away.

There was an investigation but the Police never found the weapon or the motive for Gary’s murder.

Best thing? She was never suspected.

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This is written for The Speakeasy at Yeah Write. The weekly writing challenge with a sentence and image writing prompt for up to 750 words. This week the sentence, “There was a time when things were different,” must be used as the beginning of the story. This week’s prompt can be found here: http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/147-open/ 

                 

<a href=”http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/147-open/”><img src=”http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/speakeasy2.png”></a&gt;

Slippery customer

Trifecta: Week 107

 

On now to this week’s challenge, where the word is:

MELT (transitive verb)

Remember: 

• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.  
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.  
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.  
• Only one entry per writer.   –

See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.Hod5X3m7.dpuf

 

 

Well,after two days of agony,nursing a bad bout of migraine,here I am groggy but better,attempting to play catch up.Hope this offering(333 words) is not entirely unpalatable,though a tad silly;-)

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Slippery customer

“It started two months back-with her feet, “Harris stated tiredly.

“What do you mean?”

“You see her beautiful feet were developing calluses and cracks. No salons would do-she was a DIY kind of woman. So, off she went to the market and came back laden with all kinds of special scrubs, exfoliating tools and oils .After that there was no stopping her. Agreed her feet started becoming softer but this was like OCD-I mean she would just melt at the mention of any product promising to soften her feet and order them at the drop of a hat!”

 Detective Sheridan looked at the middle-aged man sitting before him and said, “So you decided to kill her, Harris?”

“No officer, I did not! Yes, I admit I harboured that thought specially when meals became few and far between and the soup tasted-ugh soapy! The house reeked of exotic oils and my sinuses became clogged. Soggy towels, pumice stones and scrubbers of all kinds filled up our bathroom shelf! Worst was her insistence on wearing thick woollen socks even in our intimate moments-the few we had that is!”Harris sighed.

Sheridan hid a smile under his bushy moustache and continued with his investigation. His sympathies lay with Harris but he was duty bound.

“Then how do you explain the fatal injury on her head? Are you suggesting she hit herself?”

“Ah no Officer! I know how it looks but she must have slipped and hit her head on the marble floor, when she rushed to open the door. I had warned her many times about the dangers of walking on wet feet but she never listened. You saw for yourself the wet footprints and the tub of soapy water.The courier company can verify…”

“Hmm, you mean in her eagerness to receive the package of wonder foot cream that she had ordered, she ran?”

“Yes officer.”

“Too convenient don’t you think? But for your sake Harris, I hope the post-mortem report rules out any foul play.”

 

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Silenced

 

This is the first time I am writing for Friday Fictioneers,hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields,an amazing writer herself 🙂

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.)The following photo prompt has been provided by Douglas M Mcllroy ,for the challenge.

 

Copyright - C. Hase

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

Here is my 100 word story plus 1(for the title) 🙂

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Silenced

“EDDIE! Did you clean the pond?!”

It was always the same.

Agnes was beautiful but loved to nag. Eddie, her husband, was a gentle soul.

 Neighbours hoped that some day she would really leave Eddie and go, as she often threatened.

 Her only love- the Koi pond.

When Eddie got posted to the neighbouring town, he went alone. Neighbours understood the reason.

Soon, a man was noticed Agnes, at all hours.

Tongues wagged, when one night Agnes disappeared.

Later, they saw Eddie filling up the koi pond.

They nodded sagely, “Natural! He does not want to be reminded of Agnes.”

 

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In the cards

Trifextra: Week Ninety-Two

 

The Trifextra prompt this weekend is very different from the usual fare.This is what Trifecta says-

 

In The Scorpio Races, author Maggie Stiefvater writes, “It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.”  Give us the next thirty-three words of this story, as you imagine it.  Take it wherever you like, but make it original and make it 33 words exactly. – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.X88S3P6S.dpuf

 

So,here come my 33 🙂

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In the cards

Doctors told her she had been poisoned.

“These 3 cards indicate danger, misfortune.”

Sabina remembered that prediction.

Yes, she had been in danger but now misfortune was going to visit Ali, her husband.

 

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Murder on the menu

Trifecta: Week Sixty-Six

On to the weekly challenge.

DOCTOR (noun)

1
a : an eminent theologian declared a sound expounder of doctrine by the Roman Catholic Church —called also doctor of the church

 

b : a learned or authoritative teacher

 

c : a person who has earned one of the highest academic degrees (as a PhD) conferred by a university

 

d : a person awarded an honorary doctorate (as an LLD or Litt D) by a college or university

2
a : a person skilled or specializing in healing arts; especially :one (as a physician, dentist, or veterinarian) who holds an advanced degree and is licensed to practice

 

b : medicine man

Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above. 
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone.  Please join us.
 
This week’s challenge is community-judged.
 
This challenge was fun to doctor & I hope you will like it.Here is my submission.
 
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Murder on the menu

 

 

The palatial house enthralled the guests.

           

The raven haired hostess looked resplendent in her black & white silk gown.Her almond eyes were limpid pools of molten honey.Her skin?Cream & peaches.When she smiled,her rose bud lips looked dipped in dew.

 

Allan could not take his eyes off her & started to move towards her.Just then he saw that blackguard Chris,reach out & take her hand.He burnt with rage.

 

“You wait,you mongrel!Tonight is going to be your last night.She has promised to be mine & nothing can stop me now,”he thought.As he patted the sachet of powder  in his breast pocket, Allan’s eyes gleamed.

 

Chris bent to take her lily white hand & smiled  into her eyes.She is such an angel.She had looked so  vulnerable when she had told  him how that nincompoop ,Allan, had been troubling her.

 

 “I am going to ask her to marry me as soon as I remove that scoundrel Allan, from her life. Tonight I am going to put an end to his pestering ways,”he told himself.He was going to doctor Allan’s drink,when they sat down  to dinner.He smiled happily at the thought.

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She had been watching them surreptitiously,favouring first one then the other with a smile here,a look there.Keep them guessing she thought,smiling inwardly.She had played her cards well. She was enjoying playing them against each other.

 

Each thought that she was besotted with him-ha!

 

Men!Such fools!

 

The chase was fun but once they fell under her spell,she lost interest.

 

Money?She had accumulated enough over the last six years from her three ex

husbands–all three sleeping peacefully forever-well,not peacefully maybe ,she smirked. She had the sense not only to doctor their meals & medicines,but also the documents ,such that everything came to her after their demise.

 

This time around,she was doing it for the sheer fun of it.Her eyes sparkled at the thought of the scandal ,the news that all this would make.A double murder for the entrée-yum!She could hardly wait for dinner to start.

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