Friday Night Write: St Theresa

August 31, 2012
By Bullish

 

 

Welcome to the eleventh edition of Friday Night Write! 

 

NOTE: This week we are running amuck without a judge and writing just for the fun of it!! 

The Challenge 

  • 1 Song
  • 60 Hours
  • 500 Words

The Basics

  • New prompt posts at 12 pm pacific on Friday
  • Listen to the song HERE
  • Let it stir up a story
  • Post your story (or story link) in the comment box below
  • Submissions open Friday @ noon EST and close Sunday @ midnight EST

The Details

  • The music is merely the catalyst for your muse.
  • The story does not have to contain any reference to the song.
  • The story you create is entirely your own and Sweet Banana Ink makes no claim to it.
  • You are encouraged to post your story on your own blog as well as posting in our comments box.

 


 

 


    9 Responses to Friday Night Write: St Theresa

    1. Lillie McFerrin (@lilliemcferrin)
      September 1, 2012 at 6:50 pm

       
      The tan haze swirls and swoops around her feet. It seeps in to every pore.
       
      Each article of clothing, her hair, and her mouth crunch with grit.
       
      A desert is a desert, and in Annie’s opinion, it sucks.
       
      “How long are we walking?”
       
      Her mother shoots her a haggard look. “Just until we stop.”
       
      “That clears it up.”
       
      “I hoped it would.”
       
      “Clear as those dark circles under your eyes.”
       
      “Ah, yes. Now I remember.”
       
      “Remember what?”
       
      “Why I love you.”
       
      “Why is that?’
       
      “Oh, because you’re such an angelic child. Thoughtful and sweet.”
       
      “Mom. Are you drunk?
       
      She spits to clear her mouth of sand. “No, Annie. Although, that might be nice.”
       
      Annie considers that a moment. “Maybe we should rob a bank. With our loot we could buy a car. Then, donate a bunch of it to charity.”
       
      “And, that would make it okay?”
       
      “Sure,” she shrugs. “I mean, donating to charity is good, right?”
       
      “Yes. Especially when it’s your own money.”
       
      “Ugh, you and the details.”
       
      They walk a few minutes in silence. The sun beats down relentlessly; both mother and daughter are saturated with sweat. Sweat smeared with windswept sand.
       
      “Well, when I’m your age, I’ll have a car. I’ll have a husband, a good job, and a nice house. Oh, and a dog.” Annie nods to herself. “Yeah, a nice chocolate lab. I’ll name her Lucy or something.”
       
      “Honey, I hope you have all of those things.”
       
      “I will. I won’t be working two jobs for pennies like you.”
       
      Her mother nods, smiles to hide the sting of her teenage daughter’s remark. Annie will never know how it hurts. She wants Annie to be proud of her, that’s why she’d taken the third job, the one at night. Sure, Annie would never be proud of that if she knew, but you do what you have to, right? At first it was okay. The extra flow of cash really helped, but then it became scary. She got hit a few times, a few guys got angry and rough, and then someone had stolen her car. It wasn’t worth it, so she quit. Though it wasn’t really a job you just quit. It was one you ran from.
       
      “How much farther?”
       
      “Annie, I don’t  know. Just keep walking and we will get there.”
       
      “Where are we going?”
       
      “I’ll let you decide. When we get to the bus station, you pick a place, I’ll buy the ticket, and we’ll board our ride to a new life.”
       
      “I’m still pissed we have to move, just so you know.”
       
      “Oh, honey, you haven’t given me two minutes to forget.”
       
      Annie barely suppresses a grin. “Good.”
       
      “It’ll be great. We’ll get a fresh start. Clean start. You may even find a few reasons to smile.”
       
      “Me? How many times do I have to explain this to you? I am a teenager. I do not smile.”
       
      “I love you, daughter.”
       
      “Geez, always with the mushy stuff,” Annie says, smiling widely.
       
       498 words
       

      • Christina Krieger
        September 2, 2012 at 6:53 pm

        I love it! Great dialog! I hope she eases up on her mom. 

      • Bliss
        Bliss
        September 2, 2012 at 10:54 pm

        This is wonderful.  The thoughtless daggers thrown by teens…so true.  The endless love of mothers…so true.

    2. Christina Krieger
      September 2, 2012 at 10:25 am

      Here's the next installment of Carlo's story
       
      Julia sat on the windowsill in Carlo's bedroom, gazing at the sparkling night skyline of New York City. 
      Carlo was asleep in his bed, unaware that she was there, or even alive. 
       
      He had fallen for the same rouse his former boss had. But that was the whole point, wasn't it? Make them think she was dead, Carlo gets free from his life as an assassin, and everyone goes their merry way. 
       
      She had help from a man known as G. G had a professional interest in Carlo, and Julia needed G's help. She assured G that Carlo would do anything to get revenge once she was "gone," and G would have no problem recruiting him. And so their little alliance was formed. G supplied the drugs to slow her heart, the bullet proof vest, even fake blood to make it look like she had been shot. G could not understand why she would risk them shooting her in the head instead if the chest. But that's love; sometimes you have to risk everything for that one person who becomes your entire world. 
       
      G paid off the coroner to lie on her death certificate, and then gathered her unconscious body before they buried her casket. As long as no one dug up her empty grave, everything would be fine. 
       
      Julia had to wait until she knew it was safe before confronting Carlo. She couldn't do it yet because her "killers" might still be watching him. But she could not bear to see him in pain any longer. She had to at least let him know she was alive. That was why she visited him the other night, and why she was here now. 
       
      But the moon was high in the sky and she would need to leave soon. The thought sunk daggers in her chest. Reluctantly rising from her post by the window, she walked to his bed and watched her love sleeping peacefully. She desperately longed to hold him again–if just for a moment. 
       
      "Soon," she quietly promised him–and herself. 
       
      Julia turned to his nightstand and re-read the letter he had so eloquently penned. 
       
      "I love you too," she whispered as she wrote those eternal words at the bottom of the page. 
       

      • Lillie McFerrin (@lilliemcferrin)
        September 2, 2012 at 2:24 pm

        Such an epic love story. I always enjoy readng about Julia and Carlo!!!

      • Bliss
        Bliss
        September 2, 2012 at 10:55 pm

        This story is captivating.  I love getting new installments.  

    3. Bliss
      Mona Bliss
      September 2, 2012 at 8:17 pm

        Word Count: 475

      It was late afternoon and Mona and Squirrel had just dropped off her last collection money to Jackie at Valley Printing when she got the message on her cell phone. 

      “Mona.  It’s Weed.  You’re a hard woman to find these days.  You gotta come by.  I got something for you from Japan.” 

      Her heart pounded just a little.  She hadn’t been to Weed’s bar since before Sam was killed.  It felt like someone calling from a long dead past.  She considered not going, but curiosity got the better of her.  She headed back into Hollywood.

      “So where we goin’ now?” asked Squirrel.

      “Weed’s.” Mona replied.

      “Oh.  Weeds.  Um…you don’t need me to go in with you do you?”  Squirrel asked uncomfortably.

      “No.  Why?” she glanced over at him with a slight smirk.

      “Just don’t like the place.” He muttered.

      “Really?  I thought you spent a lot of time there.” 

      Squirrel just shrugged and stared out the side window of the car. 

      Mona shook her head, “Squirrel you have a real talent for wearing out your welcome.”

      Squirrel didn’t respond.  It sure as hell wasn’t something he didn’t know, he lived with it every day.  When he wasn’t high he knew it was nothing short of a miracle that his sister still gave him a place to sleep.  He didn’t really know why Mona had put up with him as long as she had. 

      “I’m just picking something up.”

      Mona turned north on Las Palmas and parked across from the old LA Weekly building.  Weed’s place was pretty unimpressive from the outside and even less impressive on the inside, dark, smelly and generally unfriendly.  Mona paused at the door for a moment, took a deep breath and walked inside.

      Weed, a quiet wiry little guy, was behind the bar as always.  She stepped to the end of the bar closest to the door and waited.  Weed gave her an inquiring look as he walked over.

      “Getcha anything?” he asked.

      “Just what you called about.”  

      He nodded, walked to the middle of the bar and pulled out a letter sized envelope.

      “I don’t know how they got this address,” he said handing it to her “I guess their information was from a while ago.” 

      “Thanks.” She met his eyes, “You OK?” 

      He raised one eyebrow and said, “Honey-baby I’m fine, it’s you we’re not so sure about.” 

      She grinned just a little, “Rumors of my deterioration are greatly exaggerated.”  She turned to go then turned back and said, “Hey Weed, give Squirrel a break will ya?” 

      Weed’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “For me.”

      She walked back to her car slipping the unopened letter into her jacket pocket.  She had no idea who it could be from but based on the only connection she had to Japan, she knew she needed to open it at home, alone.   

      • Christina Krieger
        September 3, 2012 at 2:11 pm

        Love it! I hope there will be more, I want to find out what's inside the letter

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