Short Story Wednesday--The Kiss
IWSG First Wednesday Post
Dear Readers,
Welcome to Short Story Wednesday. Until I run out of these brief tales, I’ll post either a whole one or I’ll serialize the longer ones. This week’s The Kiss comes in two parts. So I hope you’ll read it, and then let me know what you think. I’m enjoying the emails from readers and the comments from subscribers! Since it’s also the 1st Wednesday of the month, I’m posting for The Insecure Writers’ Support Group. Big day!
The Kiss, Part 1
Once early dawn had given way to a bright morning, Mel built up the courage to reenter the bedroom. She pushed open the door inch by inch and examined each familiar bit. The rumpled bed. The nightstand with a half-full glass of water. The light still switched on and where it should be.
Nothing unusual, except once again she’d slept on the couch, shivering. Even with the heat turned up, she couldn’t stop the chills.
She hated to call Abagail, but her best friend was the only one who’d listen and not freak out. Maybe this time she’d have a solution or an explanation. Anything. Desperate was a word Mel had come to know these past two years. During nights, terror was her up close and quite personal companion.
Abigail must have run after Mel’s phone call because she barged into the kitchen within three minutes of hanging up, and she lived two blocks away.
“That was… not a call I… wanted this morning.” Abigail was a bit out of breath. “I thought this had stopped.”
“I know. Sorry. I didn’t have anyone else—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Abigail took her hand and held it tightly. “Pour me some coffee, then sit down and tell me everything.”
With the thick white mugs in front of them, Mel began. She wanted to choose her words so that nothing sounded exaggerated or outright stupid. Yet her first start was both. And she shook her head, “No. Let me try that again.”
The events of last night came in snatches, and there were blank moments. She thought she had what had happened in the right order, but then she realized they weren’t. Of course, it was a dream. The disconnectedness of events, the shadowy memory that ducked away when she tried to recall what had happened. Much better to believe it was a dream. Otherwise, it meant her real-life nightmare was back.
Abigail touched Mel’s cheek lightly with her finger. “Maybe a shot of tequila would be better than this coffee.”
“If I had some, that’s exactly what we’d be drinking.” She’d poured the liquor down the drain after Drake died. If she’d kept it, she would have guzzled all of it in search of oblivion.
“Let me try again.” Mel straightened her back and clasped her hands around her coffee mug. “It was a little after midnight. I’d been reading.”“Nothing scary. A cozy mystery. When my eyes wouldn’t stay open anymore, I turned off the light, but with the full moon, even the curtains couldn’t darken the bedroom. I decided I’d better pull down the shades, or I’d never sleep.” She looked up.
Abigail nodded encouragement.
“I went to the window and…” Her heart became a drum inside her chest and she stood too quickly, knocking the edge of the table and sloshing their coffee onto the cloth. “Oh, God. I can’t…I—”
Abigail wrapped her in her arms and held her. “I think we should call the doctor.”
“No!” Mel jerked free. “I can’t do that.”
“He helped before.”
“It was terrible.” The locked doors. The silence except for her sessions with the psychiatrist. The gauzy days when she was taking the drugs.
Abigail led her back to the table. “Mel, sit. Talk to me.”
“He was there, outside the window. Then he was in the room, and it was the same as that night.”
“Did he attack you?”
Mel closed her eyes, but that only made the image of the man more vivid. It was better to stare into Abigail’s eyes and focus on the friendship they held.
“Yes, but this time I grabbed the lamp and I hit him. Hard. Again and again.”
“So you drove him off.”
“No. I”--she choked--“I killed him.”
Part 2 Next Wednesday
Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. This group is all about connecting! Be sure to link to this page and display the badge in your post. And please be sure your avatar links back to your blog! Otherwise, when you leave a comment, people can't find you to comment back.
The awesome co-hosts for the February 5 posting of the IWSG are Joylene Nowell Butler, Louise Barbour, and Tyrean Martinson!
Every month, we announce a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something to say.
Remember, the question is optional!
Is there a story or book you've written you want to/wish you could go back and change?
Honestly? All of them. I’m never satisfied with a book I write, so I have a terrible time letting them go out into the world, and then I can’t read them again because I’ll want to take them back and fix them. It's a terrible affliction because I’ll never get any of them perfect, and I know it.
Quote of the Month:
Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection, we can catch excellence. Vince Lombardi
Hi,
I love the Vince Lombardi quote.
Shalom shalom
What's that old saying? Birds of a feather flock together. So much of what you post about resonates with me. Happy IWSG Day, Lee.