WRITESPIRATION #110 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 14

Sacha’s back with her 52 words prompt for #writespiration

Write about the girl that wore the black hood.

20170405_111613

Hood pulled down low, she walked past me.
What was she hiding?
A gust of wind threatened to whip the hood back and she grabbed it, biting the side of it between her teeth to secure it.
But not before I caught a glimpse of the bruising…
God, I’ll kill that bastard!

writespiration-2017

EDWINA’S ESSAY CHALLENGE (with a little Romantic Tuesday thrown in too!)

Judy has a challenge for us! A prompt

“Time stood still; I couldn’t believe that….”

Remember 40 mins, 1000 words.

#edwinasessaychallenge

Time stood still; I couldn’t believe that I had caught it.
Looking back at him, I smiled.
It had been a good few months since I had been hinting, you know. Six years we had been together and a very happy, if eventful six years they had been too.
We met through mutual acquaintances at a bar.
Typical, huh?
There I was, screeching away into a microphone. I could never resist karaoke. Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” was a particular favourite, and that was the song I had been murdering at the time.
Now, most blokes would have been scared away by my ahem, not quite dulcet tones, but not him. I remember catching his eye as he stood at the bar, glass in hand, smirking at me.
Oooh, that smirk really riled me! As I finished my song, the dutch courage acquired from the several rounds of vodka was still present, and I marched over to the smug git at the bar.
I had plenty prepared to say to the man laughing at me, but it was all left on the tip of my tongue as I got closer to him. What a gorgeous specimen… maybe he was allowed to guffaw at my Gloria…
He looked at me as I approached and smiled (not smirked) at me. “A drink for the singer?”
Well, I hadn’t expected that!
“Er, erm…”
“Oh Gina, you’ve already met Matt! Matt, this is Gina, she works with me.” Rachel, my colleague, and fellow song murderer stood by the obviously hard of hearing Adonis.
And so, our introduction was done. We went on to realise a mutual love for homicidal karaoke, getting booed off the stage of plenty of London’s karaoke bars!
It wasn’t long before we were officially dating.
Mum loved Matt. He ate her roast dinner, complete with her incinerated roast potatoes, overcooked veg, tough meat and lumpy gravy, and then told her he’d be back the next week!
It wasn’t long before we moved in together, and settled into the cosy life of coupledom, drinks at the local most evenings, movie nights in, romantic weekend breaks, and the odd long-haul holiday.
There were bumps in the road… no relationship ever had a smooth journey. Exes raising their ugly heads, dealing with money worries, he lost his job… but we were pretty tight.
About a year and a half ago, Rachel came to me with a question. Would I be her bridesmaid?
She had been dating her other half, Martin, for a while now, and they had decided to take the next step. Of course, I was delighted for her, if a little jealous.
We had been settled down for a lot longer than her and Martin, yet the topic of marriage had never really been discussed.
During the wedding planning time, Rach and I discussed it many times. She was surprised that we hadn’t been first, seeing as we were practically married anyway, living together, and all that.
It got me thinking too.
Why hadn’t we ever discussed it?
Around six months before the wedding, I broached the subject with Matt. Coming from a broken home myself, it hadn’t been the first thing I thought of, but watching Rach get so excited, I realised that maybe I did want that too.
Matt was perplexed. Why get married? We were happy as we were.
Men!
They never understood anything, did they?
I’d leave magazines open at strategic pages, showing jewellery adverts. I’d coo at wedding scenes on the telly. I’d linger at the wedding dress departments in the stores we visited… Would he ever take the hint?
One day, a group of us were sitting in the pub, and I asked for a lighter. Matt threw it over to me, and as usual, being the klutz that I am, I dropped it. “Jees, Gina, will you ever manage to catch anything, other than a cold?!” He laughed at me, as I bent down to pick it up.
It was a bit of a standing joke. Gina couldn’t catch. I had been like it since I was a child. Never chosen in PE lessons at school to be in any teams, but I was secretly glad. Who wanted to play netball?!
Fast forward to the wedding day. February 29th 2016.
Rach looked beautiful, and she had made sure that her bridesmaids looked pretty stunning too. The day passed without a hitch. Plenty of sentimental tears, but no problems.
We laughed, we danced, we celebrated, then it was time for the bride and groom to leave for their nuptial night. Before their exit, the ceremonial throwing of the bouquet needed to be carried out.
Matt nudged me, “Is it even worth you trying Gina? We all know what your catching ability is like!”
Cheeky git! I’d show him!
“You catch that babe, and it’s a yes from me!” he shouted to my departing back.
Off I went, determined, but actually pretty sure that wasn’t going to be the catcher of any bouquet, anytime soon.
“Three, Two, One!” The crowd all counted down, and Rach hurled the bouquet behind her.
Time slowed down and the flowers fell in slow motion. There was the typical gaggle of girls jostling to get the prime position, and I was one of them. The bouquet descended… right into my outstretched hands!
Time stood still; I couldn’t believe that I had caught it.
Looking back at him, I smiled.
Sauntering over towards him, bouquet casually swinging by my side, I went to get my prize… or ask for it anyway.
The date, 29th February. It was a leap year. The year that traditionally, the girl asked the man to marry him.
I dropped down on one knee dramatically, not easy in a lilac bridesmaid sheath dress!
“Will you, Matt Howard, do me the honour of being my husband?”
He took my hand, and pulled me to standing, taking me in his arms.
“Yes, you totally crazy woman. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

And exactly 1000 words too… 42 minutes though…!

[linking into Erika’s Romantic Tuesday too!]

WRITESPIRATION #105 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 9 – Emotion

Wednesday means it’s #writespiration time!

Sacha’s prompt this week…

This week, we’re playing a game. *muhahahaha* Write your 52 words describing just one emotion, BUT you’re not allowed to use the name of the emotion or tell me what it is. I want to guess.

I hope I did this right!

Each second passing feels like an hour.
My stomach is twisting up in knots.
My fists clench and loosen, then clench again.
Unknowingly I begin to nibble at the dry skin on my lips.
Looking up at the clock, I almost gasp.
It’s time.
I pick up the phone and hit ‘call’.

writespiration-2017

#writespiration #104 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 8 Choke / Bridge #writephoto

Today I am combining two of my weekly prompts, as they came up on the same day!

Writespiration by Sacha Black where the prompt word is Choke. The challenge is that we only have 52 words, no more no less, with which to spin a fictional web!

And

Sue Vincent’s #writephoto, where we have the following photo to use as we wish.

beneath-the-bridge

So here is my little tale…

A bridge over troubled water.

Or over hardly any water.

A stench so foul from the rotting debris, strewn into the water, pungent enough to make the hardiest human choke.

But not me. This place was perfect.

It smelled glorious to me, the new troll on the block, or under the bridge!

 

WRITESPIRATION #103 52 WEEKS IN 52 DAYS WEEK 7 – The Malteaser Marathon

Wednesday’s here and on my blog that means that the awesome Sacha has set her next #writespiration prompt!

writespiration-2017

Fulfilling a prompt in fifty two words is not an easy thing to do, but here goes! The prompt is…

This week include the theme below in your story:

 

The distance between…

Now if you know me, you know how important my Malteasers are to me!… So I give you

The Malteaser Marathon!

One, two, thr… damn, where was three?
Having just got my shopping done before closing time,  and caught the bus by the skin of my teeth, I thought my luck would have changed.
But no, one bag was left on the bus!
I ran… The distance between my Malteasers and me growing…

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