Because those of you with weak stomachs aren’t enjoying my little man at the keyboard, bloodying himself with a tantrum, I’ll post something new. Personally, I like the angry guy. He reminds me of myself.
Tomorrow is my birthday, and I was going to post then because, well I don’t know. Seemed like a good time to post. Yes, my birthday; the day the world was given the gift of me. Personally, I think it should be a national holiday but the powers that be disagree. No matter, it’s a holiday in my mind.
The first Open Book Toronto challenge ran in January and it produced slightly less entries than expected. That’s our fault in part because we didn’t get the link out as well as we could. Before I go on, let me congratulate Wendy Swore on her awesome story Stroke, which won the challenge for January. I had a really hard time choosing between Stroke and another entry from another great writer. In the end it was appeal that won out. Wendy used an old technique that is really hard to pull off, the old leading the reader to believe one thing so that at the end they feel like a giant perv for misreading the words so totally. Good job Wendy.
It’s really early and my brain is not quite into the awake zone that I try to function in, so if I seem a bit mixedup, forgive me. The caffeine is not circulating through my veins as it should today. I decided that in honor of my birthday, I’d entertain you all with a story similar to the writing challenge in Open Book last month. Well, it’s funny in my book anyway. I was reminded of it when my daughter came home from her first ‘semi formal’ dance with a boyfriend. Yeah, polishing the pruning shears right now. Like I need my perfect child becoming a hormone crazed teen. She wasn’t supposed to be interested in dating yet. That wasn’t the plan.
Some of you have seen this one before so, if you don’t want to read, well Clive has cookies and margaritas over there. Go join him.
Patience lay in the grass staring up at the sun as it slowly faded. Soon she’d have to go home.
“You’ve got an ant on your leg.” Tobias placed a dirty finger on her thigh and flicked the offending insect away.
Tobias’s hand roamed until he came up to her seat. She frowned as he smacked it before bringing his arm down.
“Bet your chain needs grease.” He turned his green eyes on her and grinned.
“Sure, why not?” she smiled back.
Tobias had a beautiful smile. Filthy from wrestling by the creek, his chin had a streak of mud running across it. Patience longed to wipe it off.
His fingers moved along her seat again and she shifted to her side to watch him.
“Well, your ankle for one.” He looked pointedly to the offending appendage, now purple and twice the size it had been.
“It’s gonna be you that’s mad when we can’t see each other anymore. I don’t care one way or the other really.” He withdrew his hand and toyed with a blade of grass near his knee.
“Thought you were going to grease my chain.” Patience murmured.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and she fought the urge to shove him away. Tobias liked to make her nervous and he knew she didn’t like it when he put his face close like this.
“You’ll marry me. I know it.” He grinned at her.
“Tell me you love me.” Tobias sat back.
“I don’t ask.” Patience stood, careful not to put weight on her ankle.
“Right.” Tobias stood as well, gathering his lures and his rod.
“Why do you always have to bug me?” Patience hated being teased.
“Don’t forget your fish.” She reminded him.
Tobias turned back and picked up the bass they’d wrestled in from his favourite hole. The creek had tons of bass, but he hadn’t told anyone but Patience about it. He didn’t know why, just that he didn’t want to.
Tobias nodded and they walked toward the road. Patience thought her ankle didn’t hurt so bad now.
“School starts next week.” He said.
“Pat?” his voice sounded strange, tight, and Patience raised her head to look at him. Tobias lunged, planting a big wet kiss on her mouth. She gasped.
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Happy early birthday, sweetie. I hope it's a good one.
Haha. Yes, it is. I think tomorrow will be vodka day. I have a whole bottle just sitting there. Do you think it matters if I pick my kids up from school while drunk? They probably frown on that. I'll wait until they get home.
Still a great story, no matter how many times I read it.Wishing you a happy birthday… ahead of time. Hope it's a good one.