Fantasy Romance
Shaking with fear, Alice’s fingers again started fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “I… I…” she stammered looking up at the tense, tranquil man. Again he put his lips to the mouth of his bong and lit the bowl, taking in what looked like a mile of smoke. He held his breath for a moment then slowly blew the cloud in Alice’s face again. When his lungs had refilled with the cooling summer air he slumped further into the railing at his back.
“I… I don’t know who I am,” she said calmly. “It’s the reason I’ve come here, you see?”
“No. I don’t see,” he said after a quiet minute.
“Well I can’t explain it any other way. I just wish I could choose what to be but I was told that I am what I’m going to be. Since I don’t know what I am, it’s quite confusing.”
“No,” he said dismissively, “it isn’t.”
“You may not think so,” Alice argued, “but when you can’t find what you seek because you don’t know what you are you might find it a bit confusing. Don’t you think?”
“No.”
Alice shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Well you may not have any trouble. All I know is that I’m confused.”
“You… Who are you,” he questioned confoundedly.
With sagging shoulders Alice answered quietly, “I’m nobody,” and she stood and walked away as the man took another puff. His head fell back against the wood with a soft thud as he exhaled. For a moment he sat quietly with his eyes closed; a serene look on his face. Then he woke up with a start and looked around frantically for the beautiful blond girl who sat at his feet.
“Come back here,” he commanded. Alice ignored him and again he hollered for her, “Come here now!” Still she didn’t pay him any attention. Angry that she was not listening to him, the man set his bong on the ground and stood to his full height.
He was no taller than five six, and lean. Taking in a deep breath his chest barreled out and he hollered once more for Alice. “Get your skinny ass over here right now!”
Gritting her teeth Alice walked back to him and with disdain dripping from every pore sharply exclaimed, “What?”
“Keep your temper,” he said in a soothing voice.
“That’s it?”
“No,” he said and bent down to retrieve his smoking lamp. Again he sat on the steps cradling the blown glass between his thighs and smoked in silence; his eyes never leaving Alice’s.
Erotic Romance
Around ten o’clock a knock sounded at the door to Jason’s study. He was preparing his lesson plans and was slightly relieved to have an interruption. “Come in,” he said in a clearly sleepy voice. The door slowly opened and Jolene took a small step inside. She looked uneasy about disturbing Jason knowing his temper was short these days. “Jolene.”
“Jason, I was wondering if I could have a moment.”
“Of course, please,” he gestured to a chair near the fireplace on the far side of his office, “can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I wanted to ask you about last night. I’ve been thinking about what you said…” He looked quizzically at her a moment before nodding and gesturing for her to go on. “Well, you indicated that you wanted more out of life, that you were unhappy. I was wondering what exactly that meant. What is it that you desire?” He nodded once again and raised a hand to his chin letting his long finger graze across his lower lip.
“Let me ask you this,” he said as he stood and rounded his desk, “don’t you tire of the same routine? Teaching the same things over and again? Never having any challenge in your life?” He poured a drink and threw it back setting the glass on the table. “I’m looking for variety. What I desire is, for lack of a better term, spice of life.”
"And what exactly do you think will offer you ‘spice of life’?”
Jason sat in the chair next to her cocking his head to the side and stared into the dancing fire. “Jolene,” he huffed, “my skill set is minimal at best. I have no real aptitude for anything outside a bedroom.” He paused taking a deep breath and contemplating his next words carefully. “I want something normal, a normal job, a wife and children” Sighing, he mouthed, “love and monogamy.”
Jolene took a moment to let this information sink in before responding. She turned in her seat bringing her knee up and tucking her foot under her thigh. Facing him she rested her elbows on the arm of the chair. “Everyone loves you Jason. You are intelligent, witty, handsome, and extremely talented. I don’t want you to leave the chateau and neither does James. What if we all took a holiday after this seminar?” She held her breath.
“Perhaps, but I mean it Jo, I need something more fulfilling. This isn’t me anymore.”
“Please think about this. Wait till after the seminar to decide. We’ll all go on holiday and when we get back we can discuss this again. Is that reasonable?” She pleaded reaching out to grasp his hand.
“Okay, after we return from holiday.” He watched as she walked away and out the door. Perhaps it is better to wait, he mused, and at least Casey will be able to find a suitable replacement. He went back to his desk looking down at his notes and resigned to work on them during lunch the following day.
He grabbed a decanter of bourbon and put a Mudvayne playlist on his iPod and turned the volume up. Early retirement… he mused to himself as the lyrics to Scarlet Letters filled the room. Tediousness was not something Jason was used to feeling. He was in the habit of transforming his emotions into sexual action but this night he was loathe for company, preferring to drink himself to sleep.
Thriller
Looking at the clock, he quickly set the tweezers in a steel bowl, the blood thickly clouded the fresh water, and with quick hands he stitched up the small cut.
She was pretty; tall, blond wavy hair with black streaks underneath, bright blue bedroom eyes and a mouth that begged for a firm hand. The anesthesia would wear off soon enough and those beautiful eyes would look upon the world one last time; a world that would no longer see her, a world that had turned its back on her long ago.
With a snip, he tied the end and placed a band aid over her large toe to cover the peculiar incision. Slipping her sock and shoe back over the wound he easily picked up the homeless woman, hefting her over his shoulder and quietly climbed the steps. "I'll be back in a bit, Leo," he said in a hushed voice to the meowing cat dancing between his feet and tossed the unconscious woman in the passenger seat of his gunmetal grey Cuda. Thirty blocks he drove until the woman dazedly woke.
"Wha... Where am I," she asked slurring her words.
He laughed light heartedly. "You dozed off pretty fast there; sure you want me to take you to the bus station? There’s a shelter just down the way."
"No, no," the woman said rubbing at her eyes, "bus station's fine," and she leaned her head against the window watching the street lights and signs blur by in the darkness.
"You hungry or anything? It doesn’t look like you've eaten in days."
"I haven’t," she mumbled.
He flipped his indicator on, switching lanes before pulling into a 24-hour fast food restaurant. Slowly the muscle car rumbled around the parking lot to the drive through window.
"Welcome to Jack in the Box, what can we make for you today?"
"Uh," he mumbled, quickly scanning the brightly lit menu. "Can I get three breakfast jacks and a large fry?"
"Curly or regular fries?"
"Regular please."
"Anything to drink?"
"A large coke, and that’s all."
"Thank you," the teller said in a bored voice, "pull up to the window."
Moments later a bag of hot food was passed through the window. He handed her the drink and after taking the greasy french fries handed her the bag of sandwiches. "Here," he told her, "eat something."
Quickly the woman pulled out one of the fresh sandwiches and tore the paper away. "Thank you," she said before biting off a chunk of the breakfast burger and gratefully swallowing down large gulps of the crisp soda.
He glanced at his watch. 4:12 a.m. Quietly he drove, letting the woman enjoy her last meal while he mentally walked through the same plot he had carried out numerous times before. Suddenly an image of his first came to mind.
An old man sat on a park bench tossing crumbs of bread at his feet while a handful of ravens pecked at the meager offering. Reaching into the small paper bag beside him the old man pulled a second slice of bread out and nibbled at the corner. Moments later the old man was resting peacefully with his head cocked to the side, a slice of bread falling from his fingertips.
The bus station was just ahead. He took his foot off the gas and coasted around the corner into the drop-off area. The woman thanked him and got out, walking towards the ticketing counter. He pulled away, turning into the daily parking lot where he parked facing the bus station to watch the woman while he munched on the remainder of his greasy breakfast.
He waited while the woman counted out change, begging for pennies from passersby. When the bus arrived and she boarded, he followed quickly grabbing a sketch pad and utensil case before locking his treasured 1970 Plymouth. Again he checked his watch. 4:23 a.m.
She would be gone in seven minutes.