Crazy for Christmas

It happened again.  Jaye posts about it, so I'm aware of it.  Marina says "You should try it, Kelly!"  Another flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig.  This time with the absurd deadline, by the time I got to it, of less than 19 hours.  And you know what?  Turns out, it wasn't so absurd!  I give you:

Crazy for Christmas

                “I just don’t know what came over me.  I was there in line, patiently, like everyone else, waiting for the Black Friday sales to start.  Why do these sales keep getting earlier and earlier every year?  Who needs to start shopping at midnight?  A few people were chatting.  A couple others were plotting routes through the store.  I was tired, so I just kept to myself. 

                “Maybe that was it – I’ve just been so tired lately.  There’s never enough time for everything that needs to be done.  I work all day and come home to help the kids with their homework.  Make dinner.  Clean the house.  Do laundry.  Get lunches and backpacks for the next day ready.  By the time everything is done and I can get to bed, it’s past midnight and then I’m waking up at 5am to do it all again.

                “You could feel…almost a hum in the air as it got closer to the start of the sale.  Pallets were everywhere, stacked high with the deals that were being offered.  Ridiculous prices – some of them made you think that there was no way the store was making any money off of them.  And then, in the back of my mind, I could hear this other voice, telling me to not let anyone get in there and get MY deals, MY bargains, MY products that I had been waiting in line for!

                “I thought I was just overtired.  After the shopping was done, I was going to go home and take a nap.  Try and catch up on some of the sleep I needed.  I shook my head to try and clear it.  The pallet closest to me was nothing but toasters, 6 feet high.  There must have been more than 100 toasters on that little wooden base.  And the little voice inside me started trying to convince me that I needed that toaster.

“It’s just a toaster, for Pete’s sake.  I already have one and didn’t need another.  Everyone I know has a toaster.  And, really?  A toaster for $2?  How good of a toaster could it be?  I wasn’t even there for the toaster sale!  I’d been in that line for hours for an XBOX360.  My son had been wanting one for years.  I’d finally been able to save up enough money for it.

                “The sales people came out and people started perking up.  Phones were put away, people stretched.  One lady did deep knee bends and some lunges.  I remember thinking that she should’ve worn better fitting pants, because hers kept going low enough to show butt crack.  All around me, people were starting to shake off their tiredness.  But me?  It felt like a fog was coming over me.

                “I don’t know how it happened, I really don’t.  My hand was on my purse, keeping it near me like I always do.  Then my hand was in my purse, around the little can of pepper spray I keep in there for emergencies.  When the sales people removed the dividers, I turned and sprayed everyone with the pepper spray and ran to the toaster display.  I grabbed two of them, one under each arm, and ran off.

                “I felt like I was watching someone on TV, shouting at the screen.  ‘What are you doing, you idiot?’  It’s like I was on autopilot, but the part of me that controlled my mind was paralyzed.  I was moving and talking and shouting at people, but none of that was what I was telling my body to do. 

“It was almost a relief, when I was caught at the front doors.  A part of me – the real me, not this crazy me – was shocked at my behavior.  Was I really going to run out the door with four dollars in toasters? 

“I don’t remember much after that.  It’s like a fading dream.  I was in a car and my arms were behind me.  They hurt.  I was in a room with lots of people, and they were arguing.  A man in a uniform brought me to a room with a bed, and I was so happy to see it that I started crying.  At last I could sleep!

“Someone dressed in all white brought me here, to see you, after I slept.  You said you wanted to help me.  That was nice.  No one has offered to help me in such a long time.  So now I come to see you every day and I get to talk and talk.  You don’t argue with me over anything, or say that I said or did something wrong, or that I’m late getting somewhere.  And whenever I leave, you give me those little pills that make it really easy for me to sleep again.

“Do you think, though, that I could maybe be untied from this chair?  It would be nice to be able to move my arms and legs again.  Or itch my nose.  Maybe someday soon? 

“For now, I think I’d like to go back to my room.  I am so very tired.  There’s a picture of a Christmas tree on the window and I like to look at it as I fall asleep.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Doctor.  Merry Christmas.”

Perfection

"There's a blog challenge I think you'd like," says Marina.  "Go over to Chuck Wendig's blog and see."

I'm new to writing.  I'm also apparently easy to lead around, because I went.  And I looked at the 50 Unexplainable Black & White Photos to use for inspiration.  And I absolutely LOVED #28.  The story behind that photo flashed into my head, clear as a bell.  Getting it written was almost as easy.

I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perfection

“It was perfect, don’t you think?”  Margaret pulled her robe close around her and sat down at the vanity in their room.  She began pulling pins out of her hair.  “Perfect wedding, perfect reception.  Perfect honeymoon.”  She smiled at her new husband in the mirror.  Carefully, she placed the hairpins into an ivory box before starting to brush out her hair.

“The wedding was perfect.  The honeymoon will be perfect.”  Charles moved up behind her and started to rub her back.  “Why not save that for later?  I thought there might be something else you’d rather do.”  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to that sensitive spot just below her ear.

Though a shiver ran through her at the touch, Margaret pulled away.  “I’m almost done.  Why don’t you start warming the bed up for me?”

“All right…don’t be long,” As Charles walked away, he began to undo the buttons on his shirt.  He shrugged out of it, and tossed it in the hamper.  His pants followed soon after.

Margaret watched him in the mirror, admiring his broad shoulders and the way his muscles rippled as he moved.  Pants slid past lean hips and down long legs.  She was down to the last 10 strokes of her hair when he pulled his socks off.  Already headed towards the bed, he tossed the socks behind him, not checking to see if they made it to the hamper.

A muscle twitched under her left eye as one of the socks landed on the floor.  ‘Surely, he’ll get it and put it in the hamper,’ she thought.  Instead, he folded back the covers and climbed into bed.

Margaret returned the hairbrush to its spot on the vanity.  She turned towards him as she stood, and he grinned at her.  Slowly, she walked towards the bed, toying with the belt of her robe.  Charles’ eyes lit with anticipation as he watched her approach.  There was a slight pause in her step as she passed the sock laying on the floor, and a slight twitch of her eye as she walked past it.

At the end of the bed, she began to untie her robe.  It fluttered open, giving her husband a glimpse of what he had been waiting so many months to see: black lace fitted snugly over creamy white skin.  Pulling the belt free, she crawled onto the bed. 

Straddling him, she crept up his legs until she could sit on his lap.  She could feel him pulse beneath her, hard and ready.  She ran the belt lightly through her fingers.

“How about we try something…a little different, tonight?” she asked. 

Charles’ eyes widened: his wife had a kinky side?  Fantastic!  “Absolutely!” he rasped.  “I will try whatever you want!”

She leaned over him, which brought her breasts in front of his face.  He moaned as he ran his hands up her body to cup them.  Over his head, her face was grim as she straightened out the belt.  Neatly, she wrapped it once around his neck and looped the ends around her hands.

Sitting back, she looked down at him.  His hands were now on her back, holding her close to him so that he could have his mouth on her.  She tugged gently at the ends of the belt, pulling it just tight enough to get his attention. 

He looked up at her as she leaned forward.  He met her hungry kiss, moaning when she pulled the belt a little tighter.  He began to writhe beneath her, caught up in the moment.  She bent towards him once more, to whisper in his ear, “You shouldn’t have left your sock on the floor.”

He had just a moment after hearing that statement of warning, enough to realize that it didn’t fit the current circumstances, before she pulled the belt tight.  Too tight.  He tried to signal her that she was hurting him, but a glance at her face told him that she knew.  That she was doing this on purpose.

He tried to buck her off, but her legs clamped down on him, holding him down.  He batted at her a few times, but gave that up to try and loosen the belt.  A breath, just one breath of air, and he could fight her off.  His hands clawed at the noose that was getting tighter and tighter.  His vision started to grey.  His movements became weaker.  Just before he passed into unconsciousness, he thought he heard her sobbing.

*****

Carrying Charles with her, Margaret stepped into her closet.  She set him on a dresser, next to the others who did not live up to her standards of perfection.  She smoothed his hair into place and gave his cheek a fond pat.

“It’s a shame it didn’t work out between us, Charles.  I really thought you might be the one.”  She looked down the row at her past attempts.  She fixed her father’s beard and straightened her mother’s eyeglasses.  Her gaze strayed back to Charles.

“Hmm.  I think it’s time for someone with blonde hair…”