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Drabbles, Drabbles, Drabbles~! Fill my boredom with awkward creation!
It was the usual crowd at the bar tonight, but not in the sense that most people thought of a usual crowd in. Instead of familiar faces and names, to Lon they were all familiar attitudes and characters. The beautiful girl with her jerk boyfriend. The high school kids that paid off the bouncers to get in. The husband who hid his ring in his coat pocket. Rapists behind the masks of business men who groped waitresses as if the girls owed them something. The miserable drunks. The one hooker who nobody ever wanted to buy, but who everybody always did buy. Dancing girls who were always at the wrong party for fun. Girls who didn't care. Men in fake casts with enough money to buy just one more round. People in the corner, doing lines or dropping balls. Drug dealers, going through the crowds with smooth hands, exchanging money for a short happiness. And the one pretty girl, whit absolutely no self confidence, always relying on the uglier friends for opinions because they had made her dependent. Just the same, unhappy, miserable crowd, filled with all types of faces that hid all types of people. How nice it is to always be within the comfort of the usual crowd.
momo-kno-mo · Mon May 31, 2010 @ 07:18pm · 0 Comments |
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Once again, another of those fabulous drabble topics. This one was about apple tea :3 constructive criticism! I demand! It's rather long, so. . . be warned.
The phone was ringing and the alarm had NOT gone off yet. Madeline groaned. She lifted her hand and brought the digital clock closer to her face to read the time. From the glowing green came the time 2:12. The clock had definitely not gone off yet. Madeline groaned again as the phone let off another round of noisy ringing. She should have gone back to sleep. She should have put the pillow over her head and let the phone ring it's self to a technological death. But what if it was an emergency? What if someone was hurt, or her sister-in-law was going into an early labor? The bed creaked as Madeline shimmied her way out of it and down the mansion's hall to her phone. She picked the annoying device up, pressed talk, and held it to her ear. "Hello? This is Madeline Bourgie speaking." "Hello! Dear? Is that really you? Well, I really wouldn't know, since we haven't seen each other in so long!" Madeline almost dropped the phone at the sound of her grandmother's voice. She was honestly shocked to her the woman on her phone. They had been feuding for years. "Gram? Is that you?" she asked, uncertain. She pinched herself to make sure it wasn't a dream. "Yes, honey. It's me." Madeline choked, her tears almost spilling over. "Is. . . Is there something that you need?" The question seemed harsh to Madeline, but why else would Gram have called her after hating her all of these years? "Yes, child. Yes there is. I need you to come down here. I know that it's late and all but. . . but. . ." she could hear her grandmother's sobs on the other end of the line, which only made her own tears worse. "I've realized how foolish I've been all these years. I want to make up, and I want to do it now. I just. . . I can't." Louder sobs this time. Madeline held her hand over her mouth to keep her own choking cries to herself, even though Gram could probably still hear them. "I just can't die with our relationship like this. . . I just. . ." " I'll be there. I'm headed over there right now, Gram." God it felt so good to call her grandmother by her shortened nick name. Never again would a family reunion be awkward and formal between the two. "Thank you, dear." Madeline made quick work of the goodbyes, and jumped into her car, still in her jammies. She didn't want her grandmother to question whether or not Madeline really wanted to be grandmother and granddaughter again by making her wait. As she drove, she thought of the first thing that had driven the two apart. It had all began with her grandfather's death. Grandma had always loved her son more than anything, and thought the house should belong to him and his family. But, in that time, the man owned everything, so the will was made out to his dead daughter's two children, Madeline and her brother wouldn't have to leave the place they were familiar with when they died. When Madeline and her brother were children, Gram was alright with it. But when Robbie moved out and got married, making the house solely Madeline's, Gram had tried to take it from her, saying that she was old enough to move out. Madeline said no, Gram sued. Madeline won, Gram hated her forever. They had fought every reunion, or just flat out ignored one other, as if the other didn't exist. Madeline had hated the rift between them, but she couldn't give up her house! It was her home! But all of that was in the past now, because her and Gram could make up. To Madeline, her Gram didn't even have to apologize, just make it know that she wanted a relaxing of their strained relation, and Madeline would deliver. She pulled up into the driveway, and ran up her grandmothers porch stairs to the door. She knocked as gently as her adrenaline would allow, and waited. Their was a shuffling in the house, and the creak of a chair became known to her ears. The door opened, letting out a warm light. In a rush, Madeline hugged her grandmother with all of her soul, happy she was allowed the touch after so long. "Gram," she breathed. "Oh, dear! You must have rushed over here. You got here in ten minutes, and it takes at least twenty for such a long ride!" "Yes'm" "Come in. Relax for a while. I made both of us my apple tea, just like I used to when we had tea parties. Remember?" Madeline did. It was the best tea she had ever tasted, and nothing had yet to beat it to this very day. She nodded her head and allowed her grandmother to usher her inside to the dining room. She was seated, as her gram disappeared into the kitchen. "I'm so happy that you want us to be friends again. I really hated it when we weren't!" Madeline called out in a rush, her happiness making her words cramped and hurried. "And your just in time, too! Robbie's wife is having her baby soon! We can all be there when he's born. It's a boy, by the way." Gram came out and smiled at Madeline. Madeline smiled back. She continued to talk of all the events her grandmother had missed on her side of the family, sparring her no detail. She promised Gram the birthing tapes of Micheal, Robbie's first son, as Gram poured them both tea. Madeline finally shut her mouth when the apple tea's smell hit her nose. "Mmm," she breathed, picking up the cup to get a better smell. "I'm pleased that we two can be friends, too, sweet heart." Gram said, putting a bit of sugar in her tea. "To new beginnings!" she said, lifting her rose-painted china cup. Madeline copied the movement with a smile and tipped her cup back lazily, gulping back the contents. Her body froze. Her grandmother got up with a groan, walked around the table, and took the cup from her hands. "Can't have you breaking my good china, now can I?" she asked, setting the now empty cup down on it's saucer. Breath. Needed breath. Madeline needed breath. She tried. She failed. She tried again. She hurt. Her body struggled on the inside, but her outside self was delicately calm, absolutely frozen in every way. "Help. Please." She tried to scream. There were other houses nearby, with people that might help, but her mouth wouldn't move. Nothing on her would move. All while Madeline's inner struggle had been going on, her grandmother had been talking. "It doesn't matter who sees me, or how much evidence they get on me. I'm going to die soon, anyway. Doctor said so. So you see, dear, as my son's family is next in line for entitlement, with you out of the way, all of my dreams can come true." She looked straight into Madeline's face with hatred. "A daughter should never inherit. It brings a family's name down." Madeline a little while later, the lack of oxygen in her lungs dragging her soul down into a darkness she tried desperately to get away from. All the while, she heard all of the reason's she should have died sooner from her grandmother's mouth. The words bounced around in her head as she died. But, hey, at least she got to taste that wonderful apple tea before she went. It was the best, and nothing Madeline had tasted, to this day, had ever beat it's lovely taste. The phone was ringing and the alarm had NOT gone off yet. Madeline groaned. She lifted her hand and brought the digital clock closer to her face to read the time. From the glowing green came the time 2:12. The clock had definitely not gone off yet. Madeline groaned again as the phone let off another round of noisy ringing. She should have gone back to sleep. She should have put the pillow over her head and let the phone ring it's self to a technological death. But what if it was an emergency? What if someone was hurt, or her sister-in-law was going into an early labor? The bed creaked as Madeline shimmied her way out of it and down the mansion's hall to her phone. She picked the annoying device up, pressed talk, and held it to her ear. "Hello? This is Madeline Bourgie speaking." "Hello! Dear? Is that really you? Well, I really wouldn't know, since we haven't seen each other in so long!" Madeline almost dropped the phone at the sound of her grandmother's voice. She was honestly shocked to her the woman on her phone. They had been feuding for years. "Gram? Is that you?" she asked, uncertain. She pinched herself to make sure it wasn't a dream. "Yes, honey. It's me." Madeline choked, her tears almost spilling over. "Is. . . Is there something that you need?" The question seemed harsh to Madeline, but why else would Gram have called her after hating her all of these years? "Yes, child. Yes there is. I need you to come down here. I know that it's late and all but. . . but. . ." she could hear her grandmother's sobs on the other end of the line, which only made her own tears worse. "I've realized how foolish I've been all these years. I want to make up, and I want to do it now. I just. . . I can't." Louder sobs this time. Madeline held her hand over her mouth to keep her own choking cries to herself, even though Gram could probably still hear them. "I just can't die with our relationship like this. . . I just. . ." " I'll be there. I'm headed over there right now, Gram." God it felt so good to call her grandmother by her shortened nick name. Never again would a family reunion be awkward and formal between the two. "Thank you, dear." Madeline made quick work of the goodbyes, and jumped into her car, still in her jammies. She didn't want her grandmother to question whether or not Madeline really wanted to be grandmother and granddaughter again by making her wait. As she drove, she thought of the first thing that had driven the two apart. It had all began with her grandfather's death. Grandma had always loved her son more than anything, and thought the house should belong to him and his family. But, in that time, the man owned everything, so the will was made out to his dead daughter's two children, Madeline and her brother wouldn't have to leave the place they were familiar with when they died. When Madeline and her brother were children, Gram was alright with it. But when Robbie moved out and got married, making the house solely Madeline's, Gram had tried to take it from her, saying that she was old enough to move out. Madeline said no, Gram sued. Madeline won, Gram hated her forever. They had fought every reunion, or just flat out ignored one other, as if the other didn't exist. Madeline had hated the rift between them, but she couldn't give up her house! It was her home! But all of that was in the past now, because her and Gram could make up. To Madeline, her Gram didn't even have to apologize, just make it know that she wanted a relaxing of their strained relation, and Madeline would deliver. She pulled up into the driveway, and ran up her grandmothers porch stairs to the door. She knocked as gently as her adrenaline would allow, and waited. Their was a shuffling in the house, and the creak of a chair became known to her ears. The door opened, letting out a warm light. In a rush, Madeline hugged her grandmother with all of her soul, happy she was allowed the touch after so long. "Gram," she breathed. "Oh, dear! You must have rushed over here. You got here in ten minutes, and it takes at least twenty for such a long ride!" "Yes'm" "Come in. Relax for a while. I made both of us my apple tea, just like I used to when we had tea parties. Remember?" Madeline did. It was the best tea she had ever tasted, and nothing had yet to beat it to this very day. She nodded her head and allowed her grandmother to usher her inside to the dining room. She was seated, as her gram disappeared into the kitchen. "I'm so happy that you want us to be friends again. I really hated it when we weren't!" Madeline called out in a rush, her happiness making her words cramped and hurried. "And your just in time, too! Robbie's wife is having her baby soon! We can all be there when he's born. It's a boy, by the way." Gram came out and smiled at Madeline. Madeline smiled back. She continued to talk of all the events her grandmother had missed on her side of the family, sparring her no detail. She promised Gram the birthing tapes of Micheal, Robbie's first son, as Gram poured them both tea. Madeline finally shut her mouth when the apple tea's smell hit her nose. "Mmm," she breathed, picking up the cup to get a better smell. "I'm pleased that we two can be friends, too, sweet heart." Gram said, putting a bit of sugar in her tea. "To new beginnings!" she said, lifting her rose-painted china cup. Madeline copied the movement with a smile and tipped her cup back lazily, gulping back the contents. Her body froze. Her grandmother got up with a groan, walked around the table, and took the cup from her hands. "Can't have you breaking my good china, now can I?" she asked, setting the now empty cup down on it's saucer. Breath. Needed breath. Madeline needed breath. She tried. She failed. She tried again. She hurt. Her body struggled on the inside, but her outside self was delicately calm, absolutely frozen in every way. "Help. Please." She tried to scream. There were other houses nearby, with people that might help, but her mouth wouldn't move. Nothing on her would move. All while Madeline's inner struggle had been going on, her grandmother had been talking. "It doesn't matter who sees me, or how much evidence they get on me. I'm going to die soon, anyway. Doctor said so. So you see, dear, as my son's family is next in line for entitlement, with you out of the way, all of my dreams can come true." She looked straight into Madeline's face with hatred. "A daughter should never inherit. It brings a family's name down." Madeline a little while later, the lack of oxygen in her lungs dragging her soul down into a darkness she tried desperately to get away from. All the while, she heard all of the reason's she should have died sooner from her grandmother's mouth. The words bounced around in her head as she died. But, hey, at least she got to taste that wonderful apple tea before she went. It was the best, and nothing Madeline had tasted, to this day, had ever beat it's lovely taste.
momo-kno-mo · Mon May 31, 2010 @ 07:06pm · 0 Comments |
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This is just a drabble that I wrote. The topic was, obviously, stilettos. Don't comment on the poetry at the beginning, I know I'm horrible at writing it DX Comment with any constructive criticism at the bottom biggrin I pinky promise not to be testy when I write back
Stilettos. A working woman's little helper. Making big feet smaller. Making gross feet sexier. Making short women taller, and tall woman amazonian. Stilettos. Making men into women. Women into Aphrodities. Making men in cars want enough to pay large amounts of cash. Stilettos. Cover corners and alleys, their wearer's probably just jonesin' for the next hit. Taken off for a quick get away, put back on for a quick buck. Stilettos Found on dead women, scantily clad or even naked. Found discarded in a dingy place, or in a teenage boy's room. Stilettos, Made in every size, shape, color and fabric. Stilettos, Made for anyone, anytime, anyplace.
I watched her from my car. She was beautiful, in a disgusting kind of way. And I wondered why. Why does she have to be disgusting to me? Because this is supposed to be wrong? Because the world looks down on this? The world would look down on me, too, if they saw what was in my head. Me, wishing to be even a molecule like her. Wishing I had her lovely hair. Her lovely eyes, or walk, or face, or breasts. Maybe then the world would see how beautiful I am. How much they want me. But the thing that attracted me most to her were her stilettos. I had seen them in a store, the name of it now blurred from my mind. They were gorgeous, and I had stopped to stare, getting strange looks from passers-by. But I had wanted them so much. So damn much. And here she was, a woman with all I wanted to be, and something I wanted to have. She moved down to the next street. I started up my car and did likewise. I could tell she knew I was following her. She looked at me strangely, with fear for a moment, then with lust. She swung her hips just a little more, and pushed her hair behind her ear. I made my decision. As she stopped on the next corner, I pulled up. "I was wonderin' when you'd ever come and ask me out!" she said loudly, alcohol on her breath. "Full dates are forty-five, baby." This one was quieter, said as she leaned into his rolled-down window, showing him her full expanse of breast. "Hop in." he said, handing her five hundred for the night. She smiled, counting the money. She went to the passenger side, opened the door, and stepped in daintily, for all she was drunk, flashing him those perfect cheetah print stilettos. Maybe she would let him wear them.
momo-kno-mo · Mon May 31, 2010 @ 07:04pm · 0 Comments |
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