Steven Paul Watson, Author

The smell of bourbon was almost as intoxicating as the taste; Nick’s eleventh glass still wet his lips as he turned catching the attention of the waitress with his hearty smile.  Only four others were being entertained all dressed the same as him.  He turned, the song “Santa Baby” played over the speakers.  The dancer paid little attention to him even though he had tossed a couple fifties to her knee high leather boots with too large heels that sounded like reindeer on the rooftop to him.  Her outfit was in the holiday spirit, a red skirt and top lined with white fluff, green stockings and matching red top.  He smiled at the fake elf ears the girl had been wearing.  Her hair was in a short Mohawk of multiple colors, and he couldn’t help but to count the tattoos, at least six visible from where he sat.

“Wasting your time with that one,” Nick turned as a man took a seat beside him.  “She may look easy but she is about as much fun as a nun.”  The man laughed, his Santa outfit was stained with what Nick could only figure was the morning’s breakfast and vodka. 

“She has a name, Carrie and you should walk a mile in her shoes,” Nick turned back giving a last glance to the performer who gave him a questioning smile.

“Ah, my heart is bleeding.”

———

Carrie walked from the club only giving a last peek to the bouncer as he slammed the door shut not wasting time to be sure if she made it to her car.  The tear had just started to fall when she stuck the key in the door, it was Christmas Eve and she could not wait to get home to her son.  She could not wait to see his smile when she arrived home but dreaded his disappointed the next morning to the empty Christmas tree.    Her heart nearly stopped as she took a seat and looked in the rear view mirror, she quickly turned to see the back seat filled with gifts.

(Be sure to check out the other Entries in the Bad Santa Blog Hop)

Visual Dare #32: Disobey  (For more of this weeks Visual Dare check the link)

Marvin trudged through the snow, determined to get home a survivor of war, when many others perished.  They told him it was the harshest winter the kingdom had seen and he should wait until the snows cleared.

He saw the horse coming through the storm, rushed forward with the adrenaline of battle still alive.  With sword drawn, he heard her giggle even over the howling wind.  His sweet sister’s disobedient smile shined like the sun.  He glanced back to the tree were he had bedded through the night to see his own cold eyes staring back.

Kyle felt the cold breeze of ocean air across his face, hands in his sweat shirt pockets.  It was fall, and though the air was warmer here than where he was raised he still felt the bite of winter.  It was Thanksgiving, and a thousand miles from anyone who he thought might care.  He looked at the empty parking lot, most days it would be packed but not today.  Only the crow looked and squawked at him from a lamp.  He ran his hand over the cross around his neck as he looked back to the ocean and smiled.

(Check the Link for others from this weeks Visual Dare)

The cemetery was nearly five miles from the nearest road and eighty years since the last person had been buried there.  Jayne discovered it by accident and used it as a place to escape his troubles and write.  Many days fighting his way back to civilization in the dark.

Jayne had only brought one person here and she was no longer in his life.  He took a seat and pulled the backpack close glancing up at the old statue.  He saw the tears on the stone resembling his own; the angel knew why the young man had come today.

“Who are you?”  Miranda did not have to see his face to know he was smiling.  He brought his hands to his hood and started to reveal his face…

She came back to reality, still having a hard time catching her breath wishing she could remember his face.  She looked at her wrist, the scar seemed to burn brighter than the day it happened.  She realized she was still in the woods and it would be dark soon.  She grabbed her book and hurried to her feet, only a few steps from the willow she stopped…she was not alone.

(99 Words)

Five Sentence Fiction – Blush

He had spent more time looking at her photograph than he wanted to admit, with every thought another question found its way into his head and with each passing second there was a new answer in its place all about his future…their future.  He had told her exactly how he felt in more ways than he thought possible, a feeling he did not even know existed before he looked into her beautiful blue eyes and she said the same words he had on his lips.  How much he cared, all the things about her that drove him crazy in every way possible from the good to the bad, the way she smiled to the way she cursed even though she would claim she never did.  He knew they both had left a lot unsaid, text messages or even a phone calls were not as good as a face to face and there was no turning away from how they felt.  He craved, even hungered to run his hand down the side of her face again, to touch her lips, to feel her small hands intertwined in his own; too see her blush and smile again just before they kissed. 

For more Five Sentence Fiction check out Lillie McFerrin’sblog.

“I was there the day you got the scar on your wrist trying to use a grill even though you were only ten.  I was there to ease your tears until I knew I had to leave, before your mother and uncle came home.  They would have been more aggressive in their attempts to hide you if they had known.  But you told them nothing of the man who bandaged your wrist.  The wrap even today you use to hide the scar in public.”

Miranda looked to her left wrist and the burn scar, then back to the man.

(99 Words)

“I remember your mother, laying out on the beach and enjoying the sun while you played in the ocean.  I remember your tiny hands, as I gave you an ice cream cone.  Your mothers call when she realized you were no longer in sight.  Such smiles…such happiness…but look at you now.”

“Who are you?”

“Blood shot eyes from too many tears, lips that haven’t seen a genuine smile in a decade.  I have always been here, watching you.  Waiting for the time when you were the woman we thought you could be.”

(92 Words)

So I wrote this for a previous Five Sentence Fiction and thought it didn’t fit the word of that week (so didn’t use it)…but I think it fits for this one.  So here it is.

Five Sentence Fiction – Night

He sat looking out over the countryside, every voice in his head screamed at him for absurd reasons and the only thing that was certain they were all angry at him; he was more than just angry at himself, he was disappointed.  For the first time in years he had come here, to get away, not since his best friend left and still it felt like a betrayal after all this time, but he knew he needed to try something to fight at the depression clawing at his insides.  This was their place, the place they came to escape all the problems of the world and the one place where he knew he could find peace even though his partner could not be there; more than ever he missed the eager stare.  He could never remember feeling more lost and alone, with his back against some mythical wall and one of the voices in his head reassuring him it could only get better but even that was a lie; it could always get worse.  He forced a smile before he pulled himself off of the ground, it would already be dark before he would get home but he knew more than ever it was all up to him, to make the changes he knew he had to make to get by.

For more Five Sentence Fiction check out Lillie McFerrin’sblog.