Friday, February 14, 2014

No Love 2.0

Not romantic, but perhaps... a little sexy? I had fun writing this one, though I did have to Google what lipstick tastes like... :) Perhaps it's a quirk, but I'm always fascinated how scent and taste can draw out and bind strong memories.

150 words:

There was no love in her kiss. It was a simple press of flesh, the brief commingling of her lipstick and my eucalyptus flavored gum.

My heart stirred, while hers lay still, her mouth busy with habitual greetings, arms inviting the next visitor in the doorway for a polite, dispassionate hug, careful not to crush the bodice of her white satin dress. I licked at the crayon-taste of her pink lipstick and kicked my sneakers towards a corner heaped with men’s dress shoes, high-heels, and studded purses.

Music pulsed. Alive. Warning. Torturous.

I licked again, carefully. Not to remove, but to savour. Another memory carved into my brain, another sensation to feed my guilt-ridden obsession. Another moment of squirming heat to re-live and re-examine after I close my door, close my eyes.

My brother’s wife.

Hands shaking, I adjusted my skirt and joined the party.


  1. Oooh. I love the music as warning and torturous; under normal circumstances, I'd inquire about a longer piece and the why behind it all, of course :) Along with other memories 'savoured'....

    1. Yeah, will probably never expand this into a longer piece :p I think I said it before... my flash fiction is kind of the equivalent of a pun. The twist at the end is what sells is... 10 minutes to get to that twist... yeah, jokes that long are never funny...

  2. I 'cheated' as used it as part of a dream sequence in my current WIP :) The MC has found himself in a dream on a mountain far, far higher than clouds, and was attempting to breath and not pass out when a woman appeared, and kissed him....

    There was no love in her kiss. No woman had ever kissed me, in dreams or the reality, but I knew it to be a formality. I breathed, and there was air in my lungs, my head no longer pounded. I took a breath, a second, a third, and then managed a laugh because I was alive and the mountain had not killed me.
    “Why are you here?” The woman’s voice drove the laugh out of me. Her voice made ice seem warm and an unkindness lurked in her crystal-strewn eyes. She moved back, her feet still not touching the path, and the wind drew cold about us.
    “I woke up here. On the mountain.”
    “You have given the mountain your blood and almost your death.”
    “I don’t think I can actually die in a dream,” I said, and hoped I didn’t sound sarcastic. I’d never dreamed a woman made of translucent ice: I couldn’t think of a single movie or anime I’d based her that on. I could barely see clouds further down the mountain, had no idea how high it went. I looked up but couldn’t see the sun, the empty blue sky filled with a sourceless light.
    “The sun does not shine on the Mountain,” the woman said. I said nothing. “You do not question this.”
    “I am dreaming,” I pointed out, starting to feel a little silly.
    The cool distance of her gaze fractured for a moment and something that might have been pity crossed her face like the shadow of a shadow.
    “I am,” I said again, and my voice sounded shrill even to my ears but I spoke to empty air. I had no idea who she was or why she had breathed air into my lungs. I took a few deep breaths and continued up the path. The stones were solid under my boots and I tried to ignore the idea that they were too solid for a dream and that my scraped hands were aching in real ways.
    “Things that are not real can have more power than those that are.” The voice behind me was light and carefree.
    There was a pressing to my side, where Qirjin had shoved me in the dream forest. Could the ghost of a dream act in another? I didn’t know, spun, warbled like a bad top, and a sword blade missed my throat. I stared into a face so thin it took me a moment to recognize it as my own. He was dressed entirely in black, and the sword snapped – I had a moment to feel annoyed it didn’t make a sound like snicker snack
    my alarm blared me, dragging me from dreams back into the waking world.

    1. Cheater cheater!

      You're allowed, since that means I get to devour some of your tasty writing ;)

      I think I would have liked to know a little earlier she was made of translucent ice... nice image, reminds me of Hans Christian Anderson's "The Snow Queen"... made me laugh your MC watches anime ;)

      "Things that are not real..." line definitely has a similar flavour to the magician series ;) I always like your fairy-talish stories :)

    2. Yeah; it won't survive to the next draft. A story for that series was working about in my head about the same time, I think. The dream stuff is halfway why I killed the first draft at 30K. I knew it was important, and a major part OF the story but without any worldbuilding beforehand I was mostly flailing in the dark. Hence a pause, breaks, and applying 6K of notes and such to the setting to figure out what was going on....

    3. Haha, sounds like the 'typical Alcar process' at work ;)