What's Missing? You know that "special" Valentine's Day you always want?
... ... ...
Dishes clamor on the counter...something crashes on the kitchen table...her eyes flash open - she's awake, yet unmoved...it's 4:00 a.m.
What's missing?
Furniture scrapes the neglected hardwood floors...a vase from an end table crashes to the floor, books crashing down from the coffee table...do they know she's there?
What's missing?
She calmly slides her hand across the sheets to the cold side of the bed & reaches under the cold, undisturbed pillow...to embrace the matching cold steel that encases her weapon of choice...which, of late, also matches the cold, desolate indifference in her heart...she hasn't yet decided if it protects her or drives her...it just is.
Her calm remains...heavy footsteps start up the stairs...
What's missing?
She'll never forget his breath on her neck or the feel of his lips brushing against her ear as he wrapped himself around her from behind, put the gun in her hands, helped her aim, and pull the trigger for the first time...deployment was only days on the horizon, he'd wanted to teach her himself...it was an intimate & dangerous thing to learn; he wanted it done right...she'd stayed on top of it, practiced just like he taught her...
What's missing?
In a fraction of a second, every lesson and shot flashed across her memory - she could still smell his breath and the fresh scent of his skin from later that day when they made love...that was 15 months & two delays ago...she'd grown strong, cold, and into every bit of the fighter he'd taught her to be...some street rat punk out on a home invasion didn't stand a chance...
What's missing?
Heavy footsteps reached the top of the stairs...she took off her safety & and perched steady on the bed, squared her shoulders, and raised her 1911...steps closing in on her door...she'd made the mistake of calling the cops before, they got there JUST AFTER she was beaten by her attacker - never again, she'll call them later...she steeled herself, ready to shoot...
What's missing?
The door swings open and the light simultaneously flips on, in the flash of her night vision and the split of a second, she realizes something familiar...and she is in NO MOOD to be reckoned with...
What's missing?
The target freezes...a quick flicker of rage flashes as their eyes meet...until...pride finds it's place...he spreads his hands, and whispers, "That's my girl..." half smiling, he almost loses his breath as he says, "You didn't mention you re-arranged the furniture."
"OH MY GOD!!!!" She screams...she lowers the gun, puts the safety on, then jumps in his arms...wrapping arms and legs around him and kissing him passionately...she has one more order for him...she firmly whispers, "Take your clothes off!"
What's missing?
Nothing, now...nothing at all, finally...he found out he was coming home, but said nothing; he didn't want to disappoint her - again...he was in the last group to leave & got home late, wanting to surprise her.
I hope you've enjoyed my Second Chance Idol entry. It was a pleasure creating it. For those of you who are wandering, no, this is not based on any particular story in my life. It just came to me...slowly in fact. When I started I had no idea how it would end. There's a few things I feel are "slightly off", but would ruin or add too much to really go into them.
Dishes clamor on the counter...something crashes on the kitchen table...her eyes flash open - she's awake, yet unmoved...it's 4:00 a.m.
What's missing?
Furniture scrapes the neglected hardwood floors...a vase from an end table crashes to the floor, books crashing down from the coffee table...do they know she's there?
What's missing?
She calmly slides her hand across the sheets to the cold side of the bed & reaches under the cold, undisturbed pillow...to embrace the matching cold steel that encases her weapon of choice...which, of late, also matches the cold, desolate indifference in her heart...she hasn't yet decided if it protects her or drives her...it just is.
Her calm remains...heavy footsteps start up the stairs...
What's missing?
She'll never forget his breath on her neck or the feel of his lips brushing against her ear as he wrapped himself around her from behind, put the gun in her hands, helped her aim, and pull the trigger for the first time...deployment was only days on the horizon, he'd wanted to teach her himself...it was an intimate & dangerous thing to learn; he wanted it done right...she'd stayed on top of it, practiced just like he taught her...
What's missing?
In a fraction of a second, every lesson and shot flashed across her memory - she could still smell his breath and the fresh scent of his skin from later that day when they made love...that was 15 months & two delays ago...she'd grown strong, cold, and into every bit of the fighter he'd taught her to be...some street rat punk out on a home invasion didn't stand a chance...
What's missing?
Heavy footsteps reached the top of the stairs...she took off her safety & and perched steady on the bed, squared her shoulders, and raised her 1911...steps closing in on her door...she'd made the mistake of calling the cops before, they got there JUST AFTER she was beaten by her attacker - never again, she'll call them later...she steeled herself, ready to shoot...
What's missing?
The door swings open and the light simultaneously flips on, in the flash of her night vision and the split of a second, she realizes something familiar...and she is in NO MOOD to be reckoned with...
What's missing?
The target freezes...a quick flicker of rage flashes as their eyes meet...until...pride finds it's place...he spreads his hands, and whispers, "That's my girl..." half smiling, he almost loses his breath as he says, "You didn't mention you re-arranged the furniture."
"OH MY GOD!!!!" She screams...she lowers the gun, puts the safety on, then jumps in his arms...wrapping arms and legs around him and kissing him passionately...she has one more order for him...she firmly whispers, "Take your clothes off!"
What's missing?
Nothing, now...nothing at all, finally...he found out he was coming home, but said nothing; he didn't want to disappoint her - again...he was in the last group to leave & got home late, wanting to surprise her.
I hope you've enjoyed my Second Chance Idol entry. It was a pleasure creating it. For those of you who are wandering, no, this is not based on any particular story in my life. It just came to me...slowly in fact. When I started I had no idea how it would end. There's a few things I feel are "slightly off", but would ruin or add too much to really go into them.