Friday, 27 September 2013

A wonderful evening (Re-written)

Author's note:

Hi everyone, thank you for taking the time to visit The Twisted Quill.

Last week I posted a very short story entitled “A wonderful evening” which, although I quite liked its brevity, felt that it didn't really meet my intentions, so for this week's #fridayflash I have posted a much longer, and slightly different version of the same story, one that is closer to my original idea.
Anyone wishing to read the original post can find it here:- A wonderful evening.
Thank you for reading.
Steve Green.


They had bumped trolleys in the supermarket, as they laughingly apologised to each other he couldn't help but notice the look in her eye, a twinkle, an invitation?

A few minutes later they passed in opposite directions down the next aisle, he looked across and smiled at her, she beamed back. Yes, she was definitely interested.

By a quirk of fate their cars just happened to be parked side by side, they laughed and chatted as they were loading their shopping. He was usually so lacking in confidence around women, but there was something different about her, something that drew him in. Her smile, so open and inviting, her whole demeanour made him feel that she found him attractive, desirable. He took the plunge, shyly asking her number, and offering his own.

He called her later in the day and knew from the moment she picked up that things were looking up for him. She sounded absolutely delighted that he had phoned. They arranged a date for the following evening, she said she would host, she loved cooking, and it would be much preferable to the hustle and bustle of a restaurant. He couldn't agree more, in his opinion things were just getting better and better, he experienced a pleasurable shiver of anticipation as he fantasised about how the evening might turn out.

He dressed smartly, wore his best suit. He stood on her doorstep, awkwardly cradling flowers wine and chocolates in one arm as he reached out and nervously rang the doorbell. Any nervousness he felt quickly evaporated when she opened the door, she greeted him with a huge smile, she was positively glowing with pleasure, with excitement, with expectation.

The meal was exquisite, beautifully prepared and absolutely delicious. They chatted easily, as though they had known each other all their lives, he could never remember a time when he had felt so relaxed in female company. Her conversation was intelligent and witty, when he spoke she listened attentively, hanging on his every word. He couldn't believe this was happening for him, that he could be so lucky. Is it possible that the seed of encounter in the frozen foods aisle could blossom into romance for him tonight?

They reached out across the table, their fingers touched, intertwined. He told her how this had been such a wonderful, wonderful evening, how he just wished that this moment could last forever.

“And so it shall my dear, for you anyway.”

As she spoke a slight static surged from her fingers to his own, in less than a second it pulsed throughout his whole body, tingling and warming every muscle as it went.

He felt the first stirrings of unease trickle down his spine. He looked across the table at her, the twinkle in her eyes now looked more like a malevolent glint, her broad smile appeared sinister, a cruel twist to her lips giving her an evil look, feral almost.

The unease quickly turned into terror as he tried to unclasp his fingers from hers but found he was unable to move, his whole body seemed paralysed. For a moment embarrassment rose to the surface as the intense fear caused his bowels and bladder to void.

A strange sensation rippled through his entire body, pulsating waves ran down his arms and through his fingertips.

He could feel himself slowly growing weaker as his life energy flowed from him to her.

Her head rolled back and she moaned softly, arched her back, whimpering and spasming as if in the throes of orgasm.

As the night wore on his body gradually diminished, deflated, began to collapse in on itself.

The days and nights passed by, and still she writhed in ecstasy, taking every last available molecule he had to offer, savouring each drop of essence, until eventually his husk disintegrated into dust breaking the contact. She slumped back in her chair, spent, satiated, her breathing rapid, ragged and hoarse.

Later, her whole being awash with a deliciously warm afterglow, she hummed happily to herself as she skipped gaily about the house doing the cleaning up, disposing of any signs he had ever been there. She washed the dishes and put them to drain, threw what she could into the garbage, and buried in the cellar what was left.

What she needed now was sleep.

Several months later the first pangs of hunger roused her from slumber.

The hunger grew stronger as she showered, dressed and applied her make up.

She checked herself critically in the full length mirror, yes, perfect. Casual clothes just bordering on sexy, heels not too high but enough to accentuate the curve of her calf, not too much lipstick or eye-liner. She let her gaze rove the length of her reflection, taking in her beautiful features, her mane of honey blonde hair, the swell of her breasts, trimness of waist, and the curve of her buttocks, not bad at all for a creature who was almost five thousand years old, she didn't look a day over twenty five.

She allowed herself a final practice of her brightest smile, the one that radiated openness, happiness, and just a hint of invitation and the possibility of something more, pleased with the result she turned away from the mirror.

The hunger was burning hotter now, she picked up her handbag and keys and headed towards the door.

She felt ravenous.

Time to go shopping.

©2013 Stephen. J. Green

Friday, 20 September 2013

A wonderful evening

They had bumped trolleys in the supermarket, laughingly apologised to each other, passed in opposite directions down every subsequent aisle, smiled, nodded, and walked on.

Fate favoured him that day, their cars just happened to be parked side by side.
They were loading shopping, he took the plunge, shyly asking her number, and offering his own.

Mid evening and she hadn't called, why would she? He was no Adonis, just an average guy, and she was so beautiful, probably fighting them off with a stick.

Faint heart never won fair lady, he would call her, the fear of rejection lay heavy with him, but he had to know.

She picked up, sounded delighted. A date? Why, yes, she would love to. Tomorrow evening? That would be splendid, would he mind if she hosted?

He dressed smartly, his best suit. Took flowers, wine, chocolates, and hope.

He knocked on her door, nervously shuffled his feet, felt his spirits hit the sky when the door opened and her beaming face appeared. She was so happy to see him, she was glowing with pleasure, with excitement, with expectation.

The meal was exquisite, beautifully prepared, a candlelit heaven.

They chatted as though they had known each other all their lives.

Hands reached out across the table, fingers touched, intertwined, energy flowed from one to the other.

He had never felt so happy in all of his life, he just wanted this wonderful, wonderful evening to go on for ever, they both did.

They sat, holding hands between the candlesticks.

They sat like that until the daylight seeped through the gaps in the shades.

Until the summer turned into autumn.

Until the flesh fell from their bones.

Until there was only dust.

©2013 Stephen. J. Green.

Saturday, 7 September 2013

The giggles

I had the giggles, overwhelmed by the ridiculousness of the situation. I was chuckling so hard I could barely catch my breath.

The heist had gone perfectly. The escape through the sewers too... almost.

Here I was, in the pitch black, the stench of human waste clogging my nostrils, the squeaks of rats like tinnitus in my ears, the slither of fur brushing my legs, the Chinese water torture drip-dripping in the background.

I hefted the loot bag in my hand and thought of all that it could buy, could have bought, probably now never will buy.

The blueprint of the labyrinthine tunnels crinkled between my fingertips, unreadable, priceless,useless.

From somewhere in my head came the thought, “A torch battery, a torch battery... My kingdom for a torch battery!”

That just set me off again, my maniacal laughter echoed through the dark, things just couldn't get any worse.

From close by came a low, throaty snarl...

©2013 Stephen. J. Green.