The note

Sonia sat patiently in the lobby of Hotel Amber, waiting for Murdoch, the casting Director. Over the past few weeks, she had rehearsed n number of times; still she went over her lines once again in her mind. There should not be any faux pas-she would not get a second chance, she knew.

A few minutes later, she saw Murdoch striding into the hotel, alone. A good omen, she told herself and moved towards him. Seeing her Murdoch smiled in recognition and beckoned her to follow him.

The elevator journey to his suite on the 10th floor was punctuated only by the frequent phone calls that Murdoch kept making. As they stepped out, Murdoch switched off his mobile and told her, “Don’t want calls to distract us.”

Entering his suite he turned towards her and said, “Not that I mind but hasn’t the agency sent you a little early?”

Sonia smiled and responded, “I believe in being a little early. It gives me time to warm up.”

Murdoch guffawed and said, “I like attitude and I must say the agency has surpassed my expectations this time.” His eyes moved over her appreciatively.“So, what’s on the agenda?” he asked, sprawling in the chair and loosening his tie.

“What about a drink?” Sonia said, moving towards the bar, licking her lips provocatively.

“Sure! Let’s get things started.”

Handing him his favourite drink, Sonia sat across him and crossed her legs. Her dress immediately shot up and Murdoch got a glimpse of her creamy thighs. His gaze was reptilian and though Sonia was prepared, it scared her.

Don’t back out now, she told herself.

After a few minutes, Murdoch decided to take off his coat and shoes. Sonia bent down to pick up her bag, allowing Murdoch to have a good look down her cleavage. She knew the effect her sexy body was having on him and hoped to use that to her favour.

She stood up and began taking off her slinky dress slowly, moving sensuously making sure that Murdoch could see every hidden curve. Looking up, she saw him devouring her with his eyes. She winked, stretched lasciviously and said, “I think we need some music.”

Murdoch was quick to oblige and as she started her striptease, he grew aroused. Soon, Sonia was wearing nothing but her high heels and stockings. Murdoch lunged towards her but Sonia laughed and moved away. She said, “What’s the hurry? Wait a few moments while I go get ready for some more fun.” With that she picked up her dress and bag and went into the bathroom.

Once inside, she locked the door, took out her mobile and quickly sent two messages, then slipped back into her dress. She flushed the toilet and came out smiling.

Murdoch looked puzzled. She crawled into the bed and bit his ear playfully and said, “How about you and me playing a game? I pretend to be a scared virgin and you try to rape me?”

Sonia knew that it was playing with fire but she was ready to face the consequences. She had waited too long. Murdoch needed no more incentive. He jumped up to chase Sonia as she ran around the room. He pounced at her and scratched her arms. She fell, with him atop her. She whispered seductively, “Bite me” and he did. She wriggled away as his greedy fingers caught on her dress and the sleeve tore. She ran, with him at her heels and snagged her stockings. He caught up and kissed her viciously and her lipstick smeared. Her arms had bruises and her hair was all awry.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Sonia kicked a surprised Murdoch on his shins and ran screaming to open the door. “Help me please! This monster was trying to rape me!” Sonia sobbed and fell down in a faint. Murdoch was bewildered to see the Police and the media gathered outside.

It became the biggest scandal in the town’s history. Medical examination provided enough evidence to send Murdoch behind bars. He lost his reputation. His family and friends disowned him.

A few months later he received a note and a 5 year old news clipping. It reported a young girl’s suicide. She had been accused of seducing an upcoming Director. Her suicide note said, “I loved him. Was that a mistake?”

Understanding dawned on Murdoch as he read the attached note,” The rightness eclipsed every mistake made along the way.”

 

——————————-X——————————–

 

This is my response to Speakeasy’s weekly prompt #158 which required us to (a)write a response(fiction or poetry) in 750 words or less (mine is 750, including the title) (b) using the following sentence as the LAST line in your submission: “The rightness eclipsed every mistake made along the way.” and (c) make some reference to the media prompt,which this week is a trailer(video) from the movie,”Love in the time of Cholera”. For more details and rules,please click on  the url below-

http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/fiction-challenge-158-open/

Advertisement

Adventure

Friday Fictioneers

This time Friday has come and long gone and I can’t believe that I am joining the weekly FF melee almost at the fag end-phew!Well, real life sometimes takes over and one has to patiently wait for a break. I would like to thank all those who came over to read and comment on my post.Will come by later today, to thank you all personally. As we  are all observing FF is becoming more and more popular and to read over 100 entries every week is getting tougher.So,I am going  to chose what many others are already doing.I will come by to read and comment on those  who have been  regularly reading  mine  and those who never fail to return the favour. Needless to say,I will definitely pay a return visit to those who come by  to read  and comment on mine for the first time-that’s what a community is for 🙂

Okay,now that is out of the way,let me get back to the nitty- gritty of FF.Every Friday(okay,okay Wednesday) our wonderful hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields cooks up a storm by providing a photo prompt ,based on which writers from all over the globe  rush to spin a 100 word(give or take a few more -or less) story.This week the photo is provided by none other than the very talented Douglas M Macllroy-thank you Doug :-)If you are interested in participating a or reading what others have written, do click on the url http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/friday-fictioneers-2/ and I promise you will be hooked.

My 101 word story(including the title) follows the photo prompt below.

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Adventure

 

“Is the sea monster going to gobble us all?” asked little Gina.

Tim retorted, “No silly, we are safe under the rafters.” 

“Anyway mermaids are stronger than sea monsters!” Quipped Alice sagely.

The monster was circling around, when suddenly…

“Argh! What are you kids doing under my new cushions?”

‘Oh, no! It’s Mom!” The children groaned.

“Dave, is this how you keep an eye on them?”

Her husband took off the diving helmet and grinned sheepishly.

 “Molly, I thought the kids would enjoy an undersea adventure.”

Rolling her eyes, Molly remarked, “Thank God, you decided to keep the sea away!”

———————————-X———————————

 

 

 

The collectors

The collectors

Looks can be deceiving. Her mother, Simone, never failed to drill it in to Donna and her sister Felicity’s psyche when she told them how she had met Dan, her husband and their Dad at an art gallery and had taken him to be the janitor. He was so unassuming that very few had an idea about his brilliance and that he was already a millionaire at 25. His business acumen became legendary in the later years and by the time their beautiful and sophisticated mother married him at 30, he was almost a billionaire.

Yes, Donna nodded her head in assent to her mother’s mantra as she added the final touches to the painting. Years of training, dedication and a steady hand, made her work picture perfect. The blue background and the storm swept tree looked majestic, yet bowed down with deep sorrow. She smiled .An apt cover for the Van Gogh which had been at the receiving end of her expert manipulations this time. She stood up, stretching her lithe and supple limbs.

Time for a break and she also needed to make that call.

“Hello Darling!”

“Hi, there! Missed you.”

“Me too. Finished my painting.”

“Wonderful. Will come down tonight to have a look then and we can have dinner somewhere?”

“That would be lovely. See you at 8 then?”

“Okay, see you.”

Richard, her fiance, was a Professor of Art history and she had met him at a party. His extensive knowledge on the subject had fascinated her and he was smitten by the strong woman hidden behind that fragile lissomeness. Her father’s art collection made their meetings more interesting and they started dating. After two years, they got engaged and now plans were on for a Christmas wedding.

“This is brilliant work, my love,” Richard beamed; his warm brown eyes looked almost dark in excitement.

“Thank you Richie. I will hang it in Dad’s room .I think it will cheer his spirit,” Donna smiled mischievously.

“So, what’s the next plan?”

“Next week, the Rockweller’s are throwing a party. Their collection will be on view. I have already seen it twice and I have my heart set on their Monet.”

“I believe they also have that Picasso we have heard so much about?”

“Yes, you heard right but remember “restraint” is the key to success.”

“You are the Boss, Ma petite,” said Richard, drawing Donna into his warm embrace.

She snuggled into his arms and responded,”We are a team-a formidable one.”

The Rockweller’s Art Deco party was a huge success and they basked in the pride which every art collector worth his salt lives for. They had no idea that every night from then on, their mansion would be under surveillance. Two hooded figures, dressed in black, followed their every move. One such night, when the Rockwellers had gone out and the servants had retired to their quarters, the two figures entered the mansion. The burglar alarms and the CCTV cameras had already been compromised-these two were no amateurs and neither was this their first-or last-such heist.

Next morning, as soon as the newshounds got a whiff, the heist made headlines. But no amount of detection could reveal even the slightest hint as to who the Art thieves could be or how many were there. The agencies involved including the Interpol and FBI knew that the stolen work would probably resurface some 3 to 5 years later in some part of Europe but by then it would be impossible to prove that it was stolen because of the different laws in the two continents.

 Six months down the road, enjoying a quiet dinner, Richard and Donna were chalking out plans for their Honeymoon.

“Mom thinks we should go to Italy.”

“Ha! Ha! Now how did she read my mind?”

“While we are away, our last two year’s fruits of labour will be auctioned off.”

“Your Mom has her uses, eh?”

“Definitely! Thankfully, she never cottoned onto what Dad’s real profession was.”

“I really respect your Dad. That man sure knew how to build a reliable and foolproof network.”

“True. Wish you two had had more time together. He would have been proud to see you as his official son-in-law.”

“I do hope our kids will inherit your sense of adventure and his discerning eye for real art, money and…”

“Yes, yes along with your brains, charm and my mom’s practicality”, giggled Donna, looking at Richard coquettishly.

 Richard burst out laughing.

                                            ————————————–X———————————-

This was written for Speakeasy’s weekly writing challenge.The challenge was to(a) write  a piece of fiction or poetry in 750 words or less(mine is 748 words,including the title),(b) the FIRST line of our submission must be: “Looks can be deceiving.” and (c)make some sort of reference to the media prompt- a painting called Avond (Evening): The Red Tree by Dutch artist, Piet Mondrian.If you are interested in participating,please click on the link here http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/153-open/

No foul play

 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.

—————————————–X———————————-

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/

 

His nemesis

the speakeasy at yeah write #148

His nemesis

It was such a beautiful night. After her parents left to attend a late night dinner party, she sat looking at the sky, counting the stars. She felt happy and at peace. An hour later she was snuggling into bed when he came and stood at the door. She smiled and said,” Need anything?”  He came in and locked the door. She sat up and asked in an alarmed voice, “What’s wrong?” He did not answer but strode over to the bed and threw himself on her. Shocked she became immobile for a few minutes but then as she felt his hands and lips everywhere, she panicked. She kicked and fought with all the strength of a fifteen year old but he was stronger and older. He murmured sweet nothings and then he ravaged not only her body but her tender soul. She was scarred for life. Not that he cared. After it was over he said, “No one could ever know what happened here.”

Brenda had been tailing him for days. She knew her hunch was right. She watched him now from behind the trees near the park.

This was her tenth such case. She was determined to bring the culprit to book and make this her 1oth successful mission.

He had been sitting on the bench, hiding behind the newspaper, which he was pretending to read.

Brenda knew that his eyes were on the girl in the pink dress-a sweet girl about fourteen. He had been following her for the last two weeks. What he did not know was while he was trying to trap his prey, he was also being hunted. Brenda gave a satisfied smile.

She loathed such men who preyed on innocent young girls, raping them and many a times murdering them-just for kicks!

She knew where he planned to take the victim and had already alerted her team. They would be waiting for him. Not that she would let that happen but just in case…

As evening approached, slowly the park started emptying. The girl left with her friend. The man followed.

Brenda knew that the girl would part from her friend at the fork in the road and the man would be making his move then.

She waited to ambush him.

She saw the girl coming and waited for the man to appear but he seemed to be taking forever. Had he changed his mind? But why should he change his modus operandi? Had he become suspicious? Many thoughts and apprehensions raced through Brenda’s mind.

A blue sedan came honking by and stopped next to the girl. Brenda saw her smile, .nod and point to the opposite lane. Then to her utter surprise she saw her climb into the car. Before she could react, the car sped by. She was shocked to see that the man was at the wheel.

No time to get her car, she thought as she raced to the road and hailed a cab. She was glad that her team was waiting for this rascal but soon was dismayed to see the blue sedan heading in the opposite direction. She contacted her team and told them to send back up as soon as possible.

As the blue sedan swerved and took a sudden right turn, her heart lurched for she saw that it was entering a secluded area. She asked the driver to stop when she saw the sedan slowing. As she had suspected it stopped in front of a run down two-storey building. The man got down; dragging the now shrieking girl after him .Another man came out from the house and said something to the first man. Then he picked up the girl, turned and entered the house, while the second man left.

.

Brenda paid the cab driver and walked into the house.

The man was bent upon the spread–eagled girl on the bed, who had fainted in terror.

The man was saying, “My sweet one! From now on you belong to me!”

That voice!

” No one could ever know what happened here.”

 And Brenda was 15 again!

 “No!! Not ever again, you dirty scumbag!”She screamed.

He turned and froze seeing the gun in her hand.

But then recognition flooded his eyes and he drawled,”Lookie, it is sweet little sis. Come gimme a kiss!”

Brenda’s skin crawled. She could not bear it anymore.

“You hateful bastard! You are no brother of mine!” cried Brenda and fired all six bullets into him.

——————————————X——————————————-

This was written  for the Speakeasy at Yeah Write. This week, the prompt sentence is: “No one could ever know what happened here,” which can be located anywhere in the story  and also made some sort of reference to the song Counting Stars, by OneRepublic. Word count-750(including the prompt and title).

To check out what others have written or to join the challenge click on this link –  http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/148-open/

When he came calling..

Trifecta: Week Sixty-Eight

On to the weekly prompt.

TIME (noun)

1a : the measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues : duration
 b : a nonspatial continuum that is measured in terms of events which succeed one another from past through present to future
 c : leisure <time for reading>
2: the point or period when something occurs : occasion
3a : an appointed, fixed, or customary moment or hour for something to happen, begin, or end <arrived ahead of time>
b : an opportune or suitable moment <decided it was time to retire> —often used in the phrase about time <about time for a change>

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. 

 

It has been a hectic week till now & going to be so till next weekend,but I could not do without my Trifecta “fix” 😛 So,before the bell tolled,& time ran out,here I am with my submission.

 

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________

When he came calling..

 

He watched them from the shadowy hallway.

 

The family was at Dinner.Annie the old Housekeeper was bustling around.

Roger,the trusted Butler was supervising the footmen in his usual,calm manner. 

At the head of the table,sat Christopher,the monarch, sans the regal robes, sceptre and the crown.He smirked at the  thought.Christopher had started small but now at 58, he ran the multi-million dollar business with the ease & panache of one born to it.

 

On his right,sat his beautiful & equally regal consort, Lila.Her smile was  sparkling yet, as hard as a 24 carat diamond.She looked not a day over 40,but was actually 52.Few knew about her humble beginnings but most remembered her rise to stardom at just 20 & her subsequent marriage at 22, to young Christopher,a Harvard graduate .

 

In front of her sat their  daughter,the sweet & adorable,Gwen,all of twenty three.Her beauty shone like the Sun,dazzling everyone.

Next to her,sat her brother Nicolas,twenty nine.His stern demeanour & obsession with discipline ,belied his youth.He was the serious one in the family,with a Wharton degree under his belt.

Lila was flanked by her aunt Gracie on her right,a sixty something,bubbly & spirited woman who delighted everyone with her incessant banter.

 

Gracie  was chatting animatedly to Prudence,the elder daughter of the house.Prudence was 25 and had  both  brains & beauty.

 

On the seventh chair sprawled Damon,26, the darling of the family. Aided by his innocent good looks , he oozed charm .He never failed to be amused at his family’s efforts to get him to be serious.

 

A  picture perfect family!

 

Well,it is time to prick their bubble,he reflected.He had  the  goods on each of them & not one was  clean!

 

Wait till I start turning the pages of their history-what a read that would be!

 

Let me start with the head, he told himself, chuckling inwardly, as he stepped into the Dining Hall.

 

Won’t they be surprised to know that this family has another heir in waiting!

 

                                —————————–X————————————