90 minutes from reveal of the theme word to posting of story online.  As with all my flash writings, I consider them rough, first drafts and not polished stories suitable (yet) for submission.

Ironically, my own wedding anniversary was the day before, January 9th.  Happy 17th anniversary, Mr. G! and thanks for the marvelous dinner at the top of the Seattle Space Needle.

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Chelsea dressed with care–a slinky black dress cut to indecent depths in back, mile high pumps and jangly jewelry. She piled her hair on top of her head, leaving a few delicate tendrils to graze her neck, to suggest starting points of seduction. There would be a seduction too. She spritzed a light misting of her favorite perfume behind her ears, in her cleavage, behind her knees and in the small of her back. Her pulse quickened slightly, releasing and co-mingling the scent with her own essence, creating a fragrance uniquely her. Admiring her reflection in the mirror before settling down to do her makeup, she smiled.

“This is it,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

Tonight was a special night for her and her special man. She gazed at her reflection taking in the tiny frown lines around her mouth, the slight droop of her eyes. Time had dulled the ache but hadn’t erased it entirely. In contrast, her love burned as strongly as it had from the moment it had seized her in its greedy grasp. She could do this. Continue reading →

“No friggin way! I’m not saying it like that. It goes against everything I believe in,” Melora groused. To further underscore her point, she ripped up the paper he’d handed her to read and tossed the scraps into the air. They fell to the ground like dying magician’s doves.

“But that’s the traditional wording,” Mike said. He could feel his pulse quicken, the pressure building behind his eyes. This was not going well. Melora’s high handedness was yet again rearing its ugly head.

“You can say it then. I’ll say your part. How about them apples?” She stood and planted her hands on her hips, her puss in a peevish pout.

“Melora, honey, be reasonable.”

“Why is that an unreasonable suggestion? Why do my vows have to include ‘obey’ and yours don’t?”

“These are the only vows my church will permit,” he lied. In truth, they were the only words he’d accept, the only ones he’d honor.

“Then let’s go to a different church that’s more modern-thinking.” Shuffling through the folders in their wedding planner, she withdrew a sheet of paper and handed it to him. “I’ll say these vows and only these.”

Mike took the paper from Melora and focused on the words printed there. These again. They’d already had a knockdown, drag out fight over these vows and he thought they’d compromised and moved on. Obviously, she hadn’t, otherwise why would there still be a copy in the planner?

He gritted his teeth and said, “We have already discussed this and agreed that these are inappropriate and unacceptable.”

Melora walked over to him and said in a voice she’d stolen from an old Marlene Dietrich movie, “Those are the only vows, I’ll utter.” Continue reading →