Hello friends,

It has been over a year since I've written anything on here. I've been meaning to but, to be honest, the drive wasn't there. Other things got in the way and my poor little blog suffered for it.

I have another website for which I don't know the password. Isn't that something? I tried to get a password reset sent to my email address but what happens? I don't know the blasted password for THAT email address that was tied to the website. So I'm kind of pulling out my hair, trying to get myself organized with that :)

Anyhoo, this blog with be going under some REN-ovations (get it? REN-ovations? har har, I kill myself sometimes)

Hopefully, I can get this blog moving again. I miss writing my little bits of flash fiction, ranting and complaining and all that other stuff.

I'm sneaking this in at work, by the way :)

Have a great day, stay warm if you live in a cold climate, and I'm jealous if you're living in a hot one :)

R

His Love - 3WW

Droplets of early morning dew kissed the fragile strands of her daily ritual. Day after day, I'd watch intently as she created her masterpieces. I admired her fervor, her attention to the finest of details. 

Sunlight, warm and fragrant, also witnessed her labor from above. I used to be jealous of its intrusion and never wanted to share her but no longer.

I realize now we were always alone, this weaver and I. 

Our journey together would end soon and she would move on to another, her memory of my devotion fading before the day was over.

I loved yet hated her for it. 

Though she hadn't yet begun to touch me, the hot, sticky feel of her rising hunger pumped a ribbon of terror through my veins. As if she sensed my hidden turbulence, the shade of my death paused as I lay in a frustrated tangle.

Several eyes, fathomless pools of obsidian, caressed me gently while she asked.

"Are you comfortable?"

Relieved to know she still cared that much for me, I began to weep.

"Very much so."

She leaned in close, the breath of her whisper thrilling me one last time.

"Then let us begin." 

Her beautiful smile was the last thing I remembered...

© Copyright 2012 by Ren Thompson July 18, 2012

3Word Wednesday: Feel, Shade, Tangle

Taxi

I was dressed and waiting for my taxi to arrive. Michael had left already. His private limousine had been on standby and, as I watched from the window, he'd been whisked away without a backward glance. He didn't ask me if I needed a lift, not that I would've accepted.

It was an understanding between us, when we embarked on this affair; a weekend of  pure bliss, uninterrupted by our everyday lives. I wasn't available, not in the way he deserved so I treasured each second I had with him. Once the moment of his imminent departure arrived, we shared a final kiss and then he would leave, the memory of his lingering scent the only thing I had to hold me until our next tryst. 

The clouds had moved in sometime during the afternoon, chasing the sun away. Now the gentle patter of rain followed by fingers of water, streaked the windows like mournful tears. 

I sighed, feeling the weight of my solitude. 

Rainfall was not meant to be endured alone.

I straightened up when the familiar yellow vehicle came into view. I hurried to the door, checked my purse for everything and grabbed my tote. The ride down the elevator was quick, unlike when I first arrived. It seemed like it couldn't move fast enough.

When I reached the lobby, I nodded to the concierge before stepping through the revolving glass doors. The doorman on the other side immediately held an umbrella over my head as he escorted me to the waiting taxi-cab.

Once I'd thanked him and climbed in, the door was shut behind me. I adjusted my cape, and smoothed a careful hand over my up-do. The cab driver maneuvered his way into traffic, his eyes meeting mine for brief second.

We didn't speak for the entire trip for which I was thankful. The swish-thud of the windshield wipers, the shhhh of tires against the wet asphalt and the occasional beeping horn of an irritated driver broke the silence. 

When the taxi pulled up in front of train station and parked, I reached for the door handle. I never had to pay as my lover took care of my expenses for me. He promised to take care of me always and I took him at his word.

I paused when the cab driver suddenly turned to lean an arm along the back of the front seats. His warm brown eyes, lightly creased in the corners, held a gentle smile and I blinked against the sudden stinging of my own.

When it came, the familiar rumble of his voice engulfed me in a warm, safe hug.

"Don't make the same mistake I did, sweetheart."

I averted my gaze, feeling the blush of guilt climbing my face. I tried to keep the defensive tone out of my voice but failed miserably.

"What would you have me do, then?"

My father sighed and looked out of the side windows. When he held out his hand, I reached to entwine my fingers with his. A thumb rubbed against my knuckles while he considered what advice to give me. I waited with my heart in my throat. 

Daddy sighed again and lifted my hand to kiss my fingertips.

 "If you love him, don't keep him waiting."

All I could do was nod, as a single tear slipped down my cheek.

 

 

© Copyright 2012 by Ren Thompson July 16, 2012

Magpie Tales 126

Delphine - 3WW

The remnants of something fragrant jostled his memory. Max paused, uncertain. He glanced around, frowning before silently berating himself for his moment of weakness.

Delphine had left him about five or six months ago, unable to cope with his passions. She had been so eager, he mused, so willing to employ her ideas and opinions on whatever projects he’d embarked on.

But over the years it had become too much for her, she’d said.

He stood in the open doorway to their bedroom, his heart leaden with sadness. She refused to meet his eyes as she went from closet to bed where the suitcase had lain open.

“You haven’t changed.” Her voice held a trace of accusation. “I thought that once you got it all out of your system, we could move on, think about having children.”

He searched his mind for that particular topic but came up embarrassingly blank.

“I don’t recall…” His voice trailed off and he fidgeted.

“Of course you don’t.” Delphine went to the bureau and opened up the top drawer. “You never seem to recall anything when it came to kids.”

“Del,” He began but she put up a hand, stopping his next words. “No, Max. It’s too late for further discussions. I’m leaving and that’s all I care about right now.”

  

And with a final snap of the suitcase, and a quick look around the room, she was gone…

Max sighed.

It was always near sundown when memories of her were most vivid. Her laughter, the way she would tilt her head to the side while he talked, her arousal whenever he caressed her just the way she loved.

Regret coated his tongue and filled his throat.

He never meant to hurt her. He never meant to ruin things between them. If he could go back in time, he’d do things differently.

He ran into her a few days ago. She appeared happy to see him, judging by the way she threw her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug. He returned her hug, breathed in her special scent. She felt the same, he thought, yet slightly different. Before he could figure it out she pulled out of his arms.

“Oh Max, how are you?” Delphine’s warm brown eyes searched his. She gripped his hands. “I’ve thought about you everyday.”

“Have you?” Max smiled, skeptical.

“Of course.” She laughed and struck a pose. “What do you think?”

And that’s when he saw it.

Max knew he should’ve done things differently, should’ve had the talk with her but it was too late now.

She was stretched out on the old kitchen table, spread eagle, her limbs bound with the very nylons he used to slowly peel from her smooth legs. Her mouth was bound with duct tape. Clumps of congealed blood caked one side of her head, the dark blonde strands of hair sticking to it.

Max loved to twine his hands in her fragrant hair. He lifted a lock and pressed his lips to it.  His eyes met hers. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Dropping it, he moved to the counter and pulled the filet knife out of the block before turning back to her.

“I’m sorry, my love.” He said quietly.

When her tear-filled eyes caught the glint of metal, she arched her back and yanked on the restraints. Even though her screams were garbled behind the tape, he could tell the force of them by how thick the veins in her neck were bulging.

She was always such a fighter, he thought in admiration, such a fighter until she decided not to play anymore.

His eyes roamed over the swell of her abdomen. No, Max decided, he never wanted children and should’ve spoken up sooner.

“I’m so sorry.” He said again as he gently, yet methodically, applied the knife. 

 © copyright 2012 by Ren Thompson March 28, 2012

3 Word Wednesday: Fragrant, Jostle, Remnants

No Nano For Me (boo)

Last month I had embarked on the challenge National Novel Writing Month or what is commonly referred to as Nanowrimo (Nano for short).
I had my outline done, and told my closest friends not to disturb me. I threatened the hubby, kiddies and even the dog to leave me alone, that I needed this time to churn out the next great book, the one that will be sure to propel me to the top of the New York Times Bestseller List, the one that Martin Scorsese will want to make into a movie. It is within reach, I barked to my bewildered family and I DEMANDED to be left alone to write.

Fast forward to November 1st at 00:06 and it was on.
I shot out of the gate, hellbent for leather, foam bubbling around the mouth, and more than ready to take on the whole enchilada.
And what happened?
I BOMBED and rather spectacularly, I might add.
Not only did I not finish but I didn't even get half way close.

I don't know what happened between the first few days and yesterday. All I know is that I had my project going and the next thing I knew I got swept up into something else, and another thing after that and so on.
In other words, I got distracted.
Distraction is like a four-letter word to writers. Its a very bad thing.

Anyhoo, Nano has come and gone for this year. There are other writing challenges but this one was the big one. So as it stands now, all I can do is scamper off into the sunset with my tail tucked between my legs and the promise of doing better next time.

So my friends, congratulations to you if you've won Nano this year. For those who haven't, well, I'm sending you a virtual ((((hug)))) and we'll just kick Nano's ass next year.

I thought I would post a little bit of what I was working on. Its extremely rough so please forgive the errors you may find.

Untitled Nano Pt.1

Twenty years ago...

Elise Morin stood in front of the Councillors, her back to the her fellow townsmen who filled the meeting hall to capacity. She licked her lips and raised her eyes back to the men that were seated at the table.

Men that were choosing her fate.

Anger, hot and sizzling, ripped through her veins at the thought. How dare they decide how best to "resolve" her situation? Elise kept her face neutral despite the turmoil within.

In all honesty, Elise knew that her change in status had affected the others around her. The air in the hall was heavy with fear, suspicion and pity. Elise caught the judgmental looks from several of the wives, ladies that she'd thought were her life-long friends. She made eye contact with Madam Dupont, wife of the secretary who sat near the front by the long table. The other woman quickly averted hers and turned away.

Elise ignored the pang of hurt and carefully refrained from looking at Darvis Kane, the youngest member of the council. She couldn't bear his smug countenance, the ripe speculation in his beady black eyes . She knew he had been waiting for his chance...the perfect moment to make her pay for refusing his offer or marriage several years ago.

Elise couldn't think about that now. Her heart hammered as Chancellor Armand cleared his throat, effectively silencing the drone of voices. He pressed his hands against the shiny table top for leverage and stood up, shaking his massive wooly head of hair.

Unlike the other men, Armand kept his hair loose and bushy, refusing to tie it back for the sake of decorum. Tall and imposing, with shaggy brows and deep, penetrating eyes, he instilled respect and obeisance. Armand was not a man to be trifled with, and firmly believed in the duties of his office. Those same eyes were now drilling into hers, both troubled and resolved.

In spite of her situation, Elise had always liked and respected him. She remembered the pastries his wife used to make for the children and Elise had consumed her fair share back then. Elise squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, her dark eyes locked with his.

"You are aware of the consequences, are you not?" He asked in his deep, baritone voice. The older man leaned on the table, keeping his face at level to hers.
Elise nodded once.
"Yes, sir, I am."

She made the mistake of glancing at Darvis. He smirked in return, and rubbed his thin lips. Elise snapped her attention back to Armand and silently prayed for control. She couldn't wait to wipe that insolent look off of Darvis' face before the meeting adjourned .

Armand sighed and straightened up.
"I will ask once more." He looked around the crowded hall. "Is there not one of you who will stand in as Champion?"

The crowd shifted, the drone of voices barely hushed. Elise couldn't bear it any longer.
"Sir, I have been approached earlier today for the call of Champion." She said, her voice loud and clear. There was a collective gasp. The Councillors turned to each other and then back to her, surprise on their faces. Darvis sat up straight, anger etched in his features.

Armand leaned closer, and dropped his voice.
"Good heavens, child. Why did you not say so sooner?"
Elise shook her head.
"I will not have Claire Delacroix become a widow for the sake of retrieving my husband."

Darvis jumped up and pushed in next to Armand, his voice trembling with rage. The other Councillors leaned in. Darvis jabbed a finger at Elise while addressing Armand.
"This is an outrage! She does not have the right to refuse a Champion!"

"Councillor, I am aware of the laws, thank you." Armand reminded him, his tone brooking no disrespect. He put out an arm to push Darvis away. "I must ask you to step back and-"

Elise frowned at the intensity of Darvis's anger. He was literally beside himself. The man ground his teeth, flecks of spittle on his lips. He continued to point at her.
"Then she MUST marry! If not for the sake of the laws, " He turned angry eyes on her. "then she must do so for her child."

The other Councillors jumped up as well, the cacophony of voices rising higher and higher. Shouts and screams of "The Fever!" reverberated around the hall, echoing in her mind over and over again.
With a sick feeling rising in her belly, Elise nearly collapsed from the weight of it all. She leaned against the table, her head hanging low.

Doubts began to cloud her decision and she swallowed nervously.
Am I making a mistake?

"You are not allowed to refuse an offer of marriage, given your situation, Elise Morin." Darvis suddenly hissed. He lunged, his spidery hands reaching for her. A couple of the other Councillors yelled and grabbed him. Armand shouted a call for order.

At his words, Elise stumbled back out of reach. Clarity renewed her decision and she shouted, loud enough to be heard over the din of the hall. 

"I will NOT have you nor any other man in this village, do you hear me, Darvis Kane?"