#TuesFlashFicTrain: To be Rescued or Not to be Rescued

I've been slacking a little with the #TuesFlashFicTrain prompt lately.  So I made a point to hop back on board.  Let me know what you think of my ending for Gloria's story.  Follow the link to read the rest of her story.

                Now what? Gloria thought.  She surveyed the items she’d grabbed from storage, wracking her brain for any possible options.  With the solitude shield, though, there weren’t many.

                Come on, Glo!  Think outside the box!

                She watched Tom get a self-satisfied grin on his face.  He pushed the door open and ushered Manny through.  She slipped through the closing door behind the men just in time, feeling the solitude shield catch in the door a little before sliding free.  Gloria followed Manny and Tom down the corridor.  Just as she’d predicted, they stopped at the locked Security Office door.

                Gloria knew she had a little time now.  That door was protected by spells and conventional locks.  She thought about just throwing off the shield and casting the paralysis spell.  The saner part of her reminded the part that thought that was a good idea Manny would beat her to the punch.  And he wouldn’t be nice about it either.

                Faster than she’d expected, they got the door open.  Once again, she trailed behind them just close enough to get through without them noticing.  They started to rummage through the office.  Gloria thought it was odd that the office wasn’t staffed.  That was a twenty-four-hour position.

                Harvey!  That rat!

                Then it came to her.  Don’t use magic.  At least not how she’d been thinking about it.  She made her way to the recycling bin next to the fax machine and crouched down, making sure to drape the solitude shield over the can.  Then she crumpled up several sheets of paper from the can into balls.  One by one she lit them on fire and tossed them into the room.

                With their backs to where Gloria was hidden, the men didn’t see the slight movements that revealed her.  All they saw was balls of fire come flying out of nowhere at them.  Manny started a stunning spell as he scanned the room for the attacker.  Tom hid behind Manny.

                Just before Manny finished his spell, the smoke from the burning paper set of the building’s sprinkler system.  Gloria prayed the solitude shield was waterproof so it wouldn’t give her away.

                The door flew open.  Harvey and Mike, the security officer burst into the room.  Harvey threw a powder at Manny with a final flourish.  Manny went down hard.  Mike did the same for Tom.

               “Come out Gloria.  You’re safe now,” Harvey said.

Don't forget - you still have time to join in the fun with the Don't Panic Picture Prompt!

#TuesFlashFicTrain: Unwanted Attention

It's a bit last minute, but here's my response for the next part of Gloria's story from the current #TuesFlashFicTrain.  Be sure to stop by Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction to read the rest of Gloria's story and to vote on who's offering should continue the train!

                Gloria ducked into a co-worker’s cubicle.  Crawling beneath the desk, she realized it was Frank’s.

                Thank all that’s good I made it to Frank’s cubicle.  He’s careless enough to leave his desk unlocked and lazy enough to leave materials in his desk.

                Gloria eased the drawer closest to her open and rummaged around, praying all the while Harvey wouldn’t hear her.  She pulled out the first container and pried it open.  Peanuts.  Literally.  No help there.  The next container revealed potato chips.  Then chocolate-covered raisins.

                Really, Frank?  Do you really need this much junk food?

                Moving on to the next drawer, Gloria first pulled out a box of paperclips.  Better, but not overly helpful yet.  At least not unless she wanted to keep Harvey close to her.  Pencils and one dried out highlighter were next.  Then, in the back of the drawer Gloria found a small wooden box.  She rolled it over several times, but in the dim lighting she couldn’t find the opening.

                Footsteps came down the row.  Gloria slid the drawer shut and squeezed under the desk.  She whispered a few words to coax the shadows around her further, trying not to breathe.

                “Gloria!  I know you’re here somewhere!” Harvey’s sharp, nasal voice was a whisper in the still room, “Come out, Gloria!  You know we need to talk!”

                He stopped outside of Frank’s cubicle.  Gloria mouthed several more words and drew three tiny symbols on the floor near her feet.  Harvey’s head turned.  He started off, his footsteps quick and loud on the polished cement.

                Gloria counted to ten and then crept out from under Frank’s desk.  She peeked around the edges of the cubicle, convinced no one would be looking for her head so near the floor.  Seeing no one, she stood up and hurried toward the far door.

                Gloria walked into Harvey, smacking her nose into his thin shoulder.

                “Gloria!  There you are.  You need to come with me.”

                She stood there a moment, blinking, unmoving.

                “Well?  What is it?”

                “Nothing.  I just- “

                “You just what?”

                “I was surprised to see you.  I was just on my way out to grab lunch and then I was coming to see you,” Gloria begged the powers that were to lend her words enough false charm to get Harvey to swallow them.

                “No such luck.  My office.  Now.”

                Gloria’s heart sank.  She was in for it now.

You still have a little time to take the Don't Panic Picture Prompt dare!  Come on!  What have you got to lose!

#TuesFlashFicTrain: Transformations

Hey ya'll!  I had a short hiatus there as I was down in New Orleans for my graduation.  Now I gotta help finish Rita's story on #TuesFlashFicTrain.  The link here will take you to the previous parts of the story as well as other submissions for how her story should end.  Here's my ending coming in at exactly 400 words.

                Everything froze.  Glass shards twinkled in mid-air like tiny stars reflecting the bright heat of her rage.  The first drops of blood that had begun to stream from their eyes hung like macabre parade streamers.

                “Rita.”

                She looked up.  The old woman was shaking her head as she stood up.  Her form blurred as she moved toward Rita.  By the time she’d crossed the short distance to stand in front of Rita, the old woman had become a stunning raven-haired woman in her thirties.

                “Morrigan,” Rita whispered.

                “Did you not recognize me?”

                “I’ve never seen you as an old woman.”

                Morrigan shook her head, “Where is your awareness of power?  Surely you sensed mine.”

                Rita paused.  She had felt something.  That was what brought up those memories.  It wasn’t the eyes; it was Morrigan’s power that conjured the eyes.

                “Forgive me.  I should have known.”

                “You know I am Death; therefore, not so very forgiving.”

                Rita bowed her head.  Death was never lenient and she knew it.  She’d known it back when all of this started.  Part of her regretted her choice back then.  So many things would have been different.  Easier.

                “Come, child.  Do not regret your choice to serve me.  I may not be forgiving but I am not unreasonable.  I know the pain you have suffered in my name.  The memories my presence stirred up.”

                Rita began to sob.  She would have fallen had Morrigan not caught her and guided her to a seat.  Certain Morrigan had left by the time Rita could breathe again, she squared her shoulders and braced herself to face the mess she’d created.

                Looking up, Rita blinked several times, uncertain what to do.  Morrigan still sat across from her.  Death was patient, or so it seemed.

                “I can give you peace.”

                “I’m not certain I’m ready for that.”

                “Not death, my dear, though I could make that an option if you wished.  I have another option; a plan if you’re willing.”

                “Will it give me peace from this torment?”

                “It will.”

                “Then I am willing.”

                Morrigan crossed the aisle and wrapped her arms around Rita.  A bright light filled the bus.  When it dimmed, Rita was gone.  In her place was an iridescent black raven.

                “Go, my child.  Be at peace.  I will find you when I have need of you.”

                The raven flew away.  The bus continued down the road unharmed.

#TuesFlashFicTrain: Down to Business

Picking up where I left off in last week's #TuesFlashFicTrain, Rita and Laura are just beginning a business call.  Stop by Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction to see other possible scenes that continue the story from last week and to catch up on the previous parts of the story if you haven't seen them yet.

                “Smith Sisters.  This is Rita.”

                “Are you both there?”

                “Yes, Mr. Orange.  Rita and I are both here,” Laura rolled her eyes.

                “And you’re in a public place?”

                “As requested,” Laura was glad Rita answered, and in a much politer tone than Laura figured she could manage with this potential contract.

                “Send me the proof of your, ah, charms shall we say.”

                Laura rolled her eyes again, this time at his lame attempt at a double entendre that fell quite flat.  She sent him several files via her open laptop.  Laura could see Rita was still a little distracted, so she started to prepare herself for the public demonstration request she knew was coming.

                And, just like clockwork, it came.  Laura both loved and hated this song and dance.  It was a necessary evil in hers and Rita’s line of work, but it was old.  She usually let Rita be in charge of this part, but Rita clearly wasn’t up for it right now.  Rita usually loved it.

                “Well?” he prompted from the cell phone.

                Rita nodded, giving Laura tacit permission and acknowledging she was in no position to perform the demonstration.  Rita picked up the phone and switched it to Face Time.  Laura took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  Several moments of still silence passed.   Then, Rita could see a subtle shift come over Laura.  The power was clear when Laura opened her eyes.

                Laura sauntered over to a table near Rita.  Rita discreetly kept the phone’s camera focused on Laura.  A business man was sitting at the table Laura picked.  He seemed to be waiting for something, or someone.  Rita couldn’t help but smile a little when Laura caught his attention.  The man started to pant, almost literally.  Laura was so good at this, much better than Rita.  Then again, that may be because Laura was always in control.  No matter what.

                “You have a contract,” came from the phone.

There are a few days left to get your response for the Don't Panic Picture Prompt in!  March 6th at 11:59 pm CST is it!

#TuesFlashFicTrain: Day Dreaming

It took me a bit to come up with my response for the Flash Fiction Train story today.  Let me know what you think, and be sure to check out other takes the next piece of this story over at Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction.

                “Walter!”

                “Excuse me, ma’am?”

                Rita shook her head, “I’m so sorry.  It’s Rita.”

The young man behind the register at Three Bean Coffee gave her one more odd glance before handing her the receipt and her change.  Coffee, a meeting, and a conference call.  Those were her tasks today.  Simple.  Straightforward.  Something she could normally do without thinking about it much at all.

Damn this cold and that noxious concoction.

Rita collected her coffee and set up shop at a table in the corner of the busy shop.  As she flipped open her laptop, a flitting shadow caught her eye.  Glancing up, her heart almost stopped.  Then the man kept going.  Jerking her attention back to her table, Rita knocked her coffee over.  She snatched up her laptop cursing to herself.

“Let me help.”

“Laura.  Thank the gods you’re here.”

“I can see this is not your morning.”

By this time Laura had the spilled java mopped up with several napkins, had rescued the paperwork from the doom of brown stain, and had her bag propped neatly in the spare chair across from Rita.

“That’s one way to put it,” Rita flopped back into her chair.

Laura returned in a few minutes with a new cup of coffee for Rita and a fancier drink Rita didn’t recognize for herself.

“Now, Rita.  What’s got you so flustered?  The conference call starts in ten minutes and we really need to be on this.”

“I know.  Part of it is this stupid cold I just can’t seem to shake.”

“And?”

Rita hesitated.

“You dreamed again last night, didn’t you?”

Silence.

“Rita!  You know what happens!”

“Laura.  I know.  But what else could I do?  That’s the only option I had to try to take care of this cold once and for all.”

“It didn’t work.”

“I’ve noticed.”

The women were interrupted by Rita’s cell phone chirping.  Their contact was calling.  Time for business.

Tuesday Flash Fiction Train: Indecision

Flash Fiction Train over at Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction was up this week.  Never participated in it before, but I thought it might be fun to give it a shot.  Basically, each week we are given a prompt and must extend the story from the week before in 400 words or less.  So, be sure to check out the previous winners as I'm jumping in part way through the story.  Anyway, here's my offering coming in at 251 words.

Fumbling with the phone, Odessa choked on the knot in her throat as she tried to answer.
“Hey, O!”
Odessa laughed and cried as she slid down the wall.  It didn’t matter that her dress was wrinkling or that she looked so completely undignified.
“What’s going on?  You don’t sound like you’re okay.”
“Thank God it’s you, James!  You’re never going to believe this!”
“What?  You’re flipping out.”
“Archer.”
Silence twisted between them.
“James, tell me you’re still there.”
“I’m here.  What are you going to do?”
“Me!  You’re in on this, too!”
“I did not put us in to this situation.  You called me and drug me into it.”
“But you came.”
Silence filled the space again.
“James.”
Nothing.
Odessa looked to make sure the phone was still on.  It was.
“James!”
Not a sound.
She dropped the phone.
“What am I going to do?  This wasn’t suppose to happen.”
Odessa knew she should call the police.  Something happened to James.  She was sure of it.  But, if the police got involved, they might find out what happened.  Odessa picked up the phone again, not certain what she was going to do or who she was going to call.
Then, the silence struck her.  She’d never hung up the phone.  The dial tone eluded her, as did the annoying beeping reminding her to hang up the phone when she occasionally forgot to do so.  That knot came back, threatening to choke her as she struggled to remember how to breathe.

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