Wednesday Briefs...

Hello friends!

It turns out 'flash fiction' is a wonderful thing for me. My first attempt grew into a 16k short story- and my best work yet in my opinion. My second offering is also growing and will likely become a novella if not a novel! I live the way these things work...

And now, without further ado, here is my latest offering...

What a Ride
By Mathilde Watson

                “Hey!  Are you even listening to me, boy?” The grumpy old truck driver with the handlebar mustache and rancid breath swatted at Cullen with his sweat stained cowboy hat, startling him out of his sleepy half-doze. Cullen glared across the cab of the truck, squinting against the afternoon sun that shone far too brightly on his dark mood and angry thoughts. Cullen looked over at his unpleasant travel companion and chuckled, once again taken by the short, stocky man’s resemblance to his favorite childhood hero. He could just see this guy getting in someone’s face, declaring himself to be “the Lorax” and demanding they back the hell off.

Cullen  had always believed you could read a person’s character in their face, and his first impression of Wayne had been of a kind, fatherly figure. He’d jumped at the offer to ride across the country with him, trusting he was in good hands. Of course, before leaving home he’d also thought that your family loves you, no matter what- and that theory had been shot all to hell too.

Shaking his head Cullen tried to bring himself back to the here and now; no sense in dwelling on the past. “I’m sorry; w-w-what was that?” Cullen asked, pressing up against the door, trying to stay as far away from the other man as possible without being too obvious about it. It wouldn’t do to be tossed out on his ass now, only halfway to California.

“Aw, for god’s sake boy.” Wayne reached across the dash and fumbled with the radio dial; turning it on and scrolling through the channels. “The whole point in picking up hitchhikers is for the conversation, didn’t you know that? It figures I’d end up with some dumb fuck that can’t get out more than a few words without stammering and stuttering like an idiot.” The older man shoved his hat back onto his head and peered at Cullen out of the corner of his eye. “Ugly as sin too… say what happened to your face anyway? I’ll bet there’s a story there.”

Cullen swallowed hard and tried not to cringe. The truck driver was a heartless bastard, no doubt about that. “I w-was in a c-c-car ac-c-cid-cid…” Taking a deep breath Cullen continued, fighting back tears as he tried to finish his sentence. “…Crash. The w-windshield…” He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and angrily he brushed them away, shrugging and turning his face back to the window.

“All right, now, take it easy. Forget I asked!” Wayne muttered under his breath for a minute, tapping against the steering wheel and glaring out the window. Suddenly he smiled, winking at Cullen in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. “So you can’t talk for shit, so what? At least that sweet mouth of yours is good for something, eh?” Wayne laughed, punching Cullen in the shoulder. “A few more hours and you can put your mouth to better use, yeah? Give that tongue a better work out than just flapping it around anyway.”

Grinning, Wayne turned his attention back to the road, chucking at his own wit and fiddling with the radio. Cullen tried to swallow back the bile rising in his throat, tasting once again the lingering, bitter flavor of latex. So far he’d traded five blow-jobs for his passage from Massachusetts to… wherever they were now; Kansas, maybe? They were still miles away from California, two or three more days at least.

With a weary sigh Cullen pressed his face against the cool glass of the passenger window and closed his eyes, already dreading their next stop... 

The End... For now...

Be sure and check out what my fellow flashers are up to!!

Nephylim    m/m

Sara York    m/m

Lindsay Klug    m/f

Lily Sawyer     m/m

Victoria Blisse    m/f

Pender Mackie   m/m

Julie Lynn Hayes   m/m

Flash Fiction Fun!

Greetings! Here you will find my Flash Fiction offering!
This piece is something completely different for me. I hope it doesn't scare anyone off!

This week's prompts were:

 

“Damn, it’s cold.” or “Whoever said winter was wonderful was off their fucking rocker.”

 

Alternative prompts were:

moonstone, goggles, retort

or

"If you don't like it, change it"

or

write a story that features a new schoolteacher or schoolmarm or professor - just someone involved in education

Be sure and check out the links to my fellow flasher's stories at the end of mine... Enjoy!
-Mathilde

The Coldest Night
By Mathilde Watson

A loud, shrill ringing startled Jamie from his sleep and he tumbled off the side of the sofa and onto the floor, hitting his head on the edge of the coffee table. The impact sent several empty beer cans scattering across the floor and dumped an overflowing ash tray onto the carpet. Jamie shook his head, trying to ignore the mess from his father’s disgusting habits. The doorbell rang again and Jamie struggled to his feet, peering out the window at the thick curtain of snow blocking his view of the outside world.  Confused and a bit disoriented, he glanced at the clock over the mantle. Four a.m. on New Year’s Day. Who the hell would be visiting at this hour?

“Damn, it’s cold!” He muttered, wrapping his blanket firmly around his shoulders and shuffling toward the front of the house. Jamie weaved his way to the front door, stepping over empty beer cans and bottles and circling around various bulky, mismatched pieces of furniture. The old man never threw anything away, and worn out chairs and broken tables littered the entire house. The only thing they seemed to have a shortage on was beds, which left Jamie sleeping on a sleeper sofa that didn’t open.

Ever since the factory laid him off two years ago, Jamie’s father spent his days lounging around the house, smoking and drinking and criticizing his wife and son. Jamie couldn’t understand why his mother put up with it. The only money coming into the house was from Jamie’s part time job bagging groceries and the odd jobs his mom picked up around the neighborhood, hemming dresses and baking fancy cakes. They could do far better on their own without having to support the lazy man and his destructive, expensive habits. Perhaps then he could afford to go to art school and maybe make something of himself.

Jamie finally arrived at the front door, stubbing his toe on a loose floor board and biting back a curse. One more thing to add to the list of things he needed to fix. It got longer every day, two new problems popping up for every one fixed. Another year and the house would probably fall down around them. He hoped so anyway. If the damn thing were insured he’d be tempted to burn it down and start fresh.

The bell rang again and Jamie reached for the door, unlocking the deadbolt and releasing the chain before turning the lock on the knob and pulling the door open. He had no idea why they had so many locks on the door; there was nothing in the house worth stealing, and the door was so flimsy that one good kick would bring it down, locked or no. The door swung in to reveal his father, flanked by two uniformed police officers. Confused, Jamie stood in the entryway staring at the three men.

One of the officer’s gave Jamie a quick once over, and then consulted his notebook. “Mister James Wilson, Junior?” He asked, still eying Jamie critically. Jamie nodded his head and whispered, “Jamie.”

“Can we come in, Jamie?” The officer slapped Jamie’s father on the back and he stumbled forward, bending over and retching all over the welcome mat. Jamie jumped back and allowed the heavyset man to fall onto the floor. The officers stepped over the mess and pulled the obviously inebriated man to his feet, balancing him between them. “Is there somewhere we can all sit down?” the second officer asked. Jamie nodded again and turned to lead the way into the living room.

Soon  they were all settled onto chairs in the living room, and Jamie’s eyes darted from face to face, trying to determine what was happening. Six hours ago his parents had left for a New Year’s Eve party downtown, and Jamie had tried to wait up for them, but he’d fallen asleep. Now… Jamie turned to face his father who’d  slumped over in his easy chair, nearly asleep. “Where’s Mom?”

The question came out as little more than a whisper, and his father didn’t respond. Instead, the two officers looked at each other briefly, and then nodded, the first turning back to face Jamie. “Mister Wilson, I’m sorry to have to tell you this…”

“Jamie. My name is Jamie. HE is Mister Wilson.” Jamie cut the officer off, afraid to hear the rest of what the man had to say. Instead he looked back at his father, noticing for the first time several cuts and bruises on his face. He also had tears streaming down his face. Jamie had never seen the man cry before, and it filled him with cold dread.  The office cleared his throat and continued.

“I’m sorry, Jamie, but your mother is dead. Another driver ran a red light, going seventy miles an hour and slammed into the driver’s side door on your parent’s car. She was killed instantly.” Jamie slumped back against the arm of the sofa, still staring at his father’s distraught face. This couldn’t be happening. The old man wiped away his tears and met Jamie’s stare.

“The damned, drunken bastard walked away, Jamie. He murdered Amy and then he climbed out of his fancy car without a scratch on him! Not a damn scratch!” His father’s shrill wail made his head hurt and he closed his eyes, biting back the vicious comebacks he wanted to throw at the man. HE had walked away, too! His mother never drank, and hadn’t wanted to go to the stupid party in the first place. She’d been bullied into going by the shiftless drunk sitting across from him, and in Jamie’s mind he was as much to blame as the other driver. The two officers stood and drew his attention away from his sniveling father.

“We’re really sorry for your loss.” Again, Jamie nodded and they turned to show themselves out of the house. Jamie didn’t follow them, he didn’t move. He simply sat still on the sofa, watching his worthless father cry loud, useless tears while his own slid silently down his cheeks.

THE END ... FOR NOW!

Below are the links to my fellow flashers! Be sure and check them out!!

AJ Jarrett
Lily Sawyer
Victoria Blisse
Julie Lynn Hayes

Welcome!

Greetings!


I didn't get along very well with my last blog hosting site. I found the thing way too hard to use and that made me incredibly cranky. SO- I have followed the example of the other SILVER FLASH authors and opened an account here and I'm already glad I did!


And just to make sure there isn't any confusion I am transfering my first Silver Flash over here.


And here it is:

The Great Escape

By Mathilde Watson

Seth moved quietly around the bedroom, picking up Adam’s pants from the chair in front of the window, his socks from the floor beside the bed, his shoes from the open doorway. He got down on his knees and fished Adam’s shirt out from under the bed and then he dug around in the tangled sheets, careful not to disturb his dreaming lover while he searched for Adam’s discarded boxers. Adam continued to sleep soundly, sprawled on his side across the mattress with his hands tucked up under his chin, blissfully unaware of Seth’s actions.

His blond curls fell over his cheek in soft waves that rippled with every breath and for a moment, Seth considered forgetting all about his scheme. The temptation to crawl back into bed and wake his lover with demanding kisses kept him close to the bedside. Seth desperately wanted to roll the younger man over so he could ravish his lover again. The gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath made Adam seem so vulnerable, and the swell of his ass poking out from under the covers had Seth aching with want; but no.

Seth stopped himself and pulled his hand back just short of caressing the pale, creamy skin of Adam’s buttocks. His fingers itched to delve between the cheeks and seek out the hidden treasure there… but now wasn’t the time. Adam would wake up around seven and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told Seth he had less than four hours. He needed to move quickly if he wanted to get everything done and get back before Adam woke up. He couldn’t afford to get caught unprepared, not today. It would ruin the surprise.

Seth took a deep breath and stepped away from the bed, clutching Adam’s clothes to his chest like a shield, protecting him from temptation. With great effort he managed to turn away from Adam’s naked body and push aside his fierce desire to satisfy his lust and throw all his hard work away.

Oh, god, how he hated surprises! He hated them with a passion! But Adam loved them, and Seth loved Adam. And Adam deserved to know it.

Once on the other side of the bedroom door Seth sprinted for the front of the house, grabbing his keys and his wallet from the kitchen counter as he passed. He gently shut the front door and locked it quietly behind him. He buried his nose in Adam’s clothes, breathing in his man’s scent while he made his way down the hall to the stairwell. He felt bad for stealing the guy’s clothes, but at least this way he could be sure Adam would still be there when he got back. And besides, the tags would tell him Adam’s size.

Outside in the parking lot Seth finalized his escape, climbing into his truck and stowing Adam’s clothes on the passenger seat. Grinning, he started the engine and backed out of the lot, making his way to the deserted streets. In just a few hours Adam would be his; completely his. Only his.

Soon everything would be perfect. Seth would make sure of it.

The End... For Now.

Thanks for stopping by!

Be sure and check out the other Flashers!!

West Thornhill - http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer - http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Pender Mackie - http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/

AJ Jarrett - http://ajjarrett29.blogspot.com/

Freddy MacKay - http://freddymackay.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug - http://ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Julie Lynn Hayes - http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/