The twenty-fifth prompt from my table:

006. Hours

“Uaaaaangh,” Mirka says, and Roger sits up to stare at her over the side of the couch. “How long have I been lying here?”

Roger stands and pulls the curtains open with a bright “hours.”

She tries to stand, free hand covering her eyes, only to flop heavily back onto the carpet when her ( Read more... )

The twenty-fourth prompt from my table:

044. Circle

“Has anyone seen Roger yet today?” Marat asks, not bothering to look up from the effort to evenly spread the ketchup on his burger.

“Not me,” Mardy says, “I called this morning though, but there was no answer.”

“Hmm,” Marat says, raising his head to look at Andy from underneath ( Read more... )

The twenty-third prompt from my table:

031. Sunrise

Roger watches the sunrise on April Fool’s Day from the wall-to-wall window in his hotel room.

As the pinks and oranges customary to a Florida sunrise wash through the room, Mirka snores on, one hand still stretched out underneath the couch.

It is a depressingly nice day, at least so ( Read more... )

The twenty-second prompt from my table:

001. Beginnings

“I think we’re off to a good start,” Bob says, “seeing as it’s only quarter past noon.”

“Shame Andy parked street side,” Mike comments, from his concealed position behind a tree in the park. “What on earth are we going to do with all this shaving cream now?”

“Maybe John left his ( Read more... )

The twenty-first prompt from my table:

086. Choices

Andy leads Brooklyn out onto the restaurant patio, and heads directly to their usual corner. Mardy is sitting alone beneath a green umbrella, sipping on a glass of what appears to be orange juice, though Andy would not put it past him to drink Fuzzy Navels just to screw with their heads.

( Read more... )

The twentieth prompt from my table:

046. Star

“Mirka,” Mardy says, “I have to go, will you be alright?”

She frowns at him from her spot on the floor, “of course I will, what are you talking about?”

“You’re using one of Roger’s tennis shoes as a pillow,” Mardy points out, crouching down beside her, “and your hand is stuck under the ( Read more... )

The ninteenth prompt from my table:

018. Black

The last of the sun is melting into black, black sky when Andy opens the car door, waiting for Brooklyn to slide in before jogging around the front of the car to the driver’s side. By the time he is belted in and flipped on the headlights, she has her phone out and on, checking her messages.

( Read more... )

The eighteenth prompt from my table:

084. He

“I don’t understand,” Roger says softly, finally emerging from the washroom, mercifully dry excepting around his eyes, to take a seat in the armchair facing Mardy’s position on the couch, “why are you here?”

Mardy sits back slightly, watching him toy with the fringe of an ivory throw pillow ( Read more... )

The seventeenth prompt from my table:

051. Water

“What do you think Andy, wine or beer?”

“Water for me, actually,” Andy says to the waiter, “with ice and lemon?”

“Of course, sir.”

“A Stella, I suppose,” Brooklyn says, closing the drinks menu with a decisive snap.

Andy watches the waiter go, a slim figure with a mop of brown ( Read more... )

The sixteenth prompt from my table:

036. Smell

It surprises Mardy, when Mirka answers the door, that it is her and not Roger who is looking a little worse for the wear of a bottle of tequila. He remembers quickly how hard it is to face a hurt and confused Roger without a crate of liquid courage at your back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice and ( Read more... )