Monday 29 June 2015

Returning - MWBB

I managed to snag a third place in last week's Mid-Week Blues-Buster, and the feedback from the judge Louisa Bacio was interesting. She asked, "It’s tough in a short piece, but would like to see some emotions. Is he jealous? Does he love her or does he just not like to be rejected?" Because I am not a planner with flash, I just write what comes, I hadn't really thought that far, and in fact didn't know what he was going to do until the end. I hadn't really explored his character, which can often happen with flash as it is just a moment in a story or a character's world. But I am glad she still felt it warranted rating. Hope you do too.


Song prompt:
Cat People, by David Bowie

They didn’t question him at the entrance, letting him take priority over the established queue, ignoring the protests of those at the front.

He entered the foyer of the nightclub, handing off his coat to a waiting attendant who looked at him in awe. It had been a long time since they’d seen him here, but he hadn’t been forgotten.

As he stepped through the double doors into the nightclub, Kennedy surveyed the dance floor from the first floor landing. It was busy tonight and in full swing, but he still managed to spot her out there; her hair flying out as her dance partner swung her round. He took in the dance partner, seeing the sleek, black hair, toned body and striking eyes, knowing it was her ‘type’. But he was back so this stand-in would be leaving shortly.

Kennedy strode round the landing, ignoring the gasps and stares from the staff who rushed to make way for him and serve him a drink as he walked. He grabbed the glass and threw the liquid down his throat, thrusting it back in moments, swinging round the stair banister and making short work of his descent to the dance floor.

She still hadn’t noticed his arrival even though everyone else had. Crowds parted to make way for him, knowing his destination. Even her partner stopped dancing on sight of him, stepping back and trying to melt into the people behind in the hope of getting away unscathed. Kennedy didn’t worry about him; he had people that would take care of that.

It was only once he stood in front of her that she saw him and jolted to a stop mid swing. Unlike everyone else she was unfazed by his arrival seeming to have expected it. She simply stepped forward, pressing her body up against his and turned her face up to his with a grin. He didn’t return it.

“Aralia, where were you?”


Her hands crawled up his sides. He grabbed her wrists and held her arms down.

“You think you can just play me?”

She opened her eyes wide as though innocent.

“I haven’t been playing anyone. I got bored. You didn’t have time for me with all your businesses. I need attention and excitement.”

He gripped her wrists tighter. “You can’t just up and leave me like that!”

Aralia yanked her hands out of his. “Well apparently I can – and did!” 

She stepped back, rubbing her wrists. 

Kennedy glared at her. She returned the look.

“Okay, have it your way then.”

He stormed off the dance floor, and snapped his fingers at two of his men standing up on the landing. Each of them had a jerry can and they started unscrewing the lids as Kennedy climbed the stairs. They looked at him once more for confirmation and he nodded curtly as he joined them. They started showering the people below with the contents.

Their protests could be heard over the music, but nobody understood what was happening until after the men retreated from the landing. Kennedy pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He flicked the zipper open in one movement, and swept it across the cigarette as he flung the lighter below. The poof of the gasoline drew a smile from him as he too exited, mumbling, “I’ll give you excitement.”

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