Monday's Muse
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Writing Prompt Results: From March 23 Free Flow Write


He watched them from afar, but the disdain he felt for them was so closely lit in his chest he feared he would combust and light the sky with his flame. If only he had flame. If only he had anything at all with which to pay them in full the debt of the indignation they had birthed in him.

How easily they had come into his world, and how easily they had slipped out, snatching away from him all hope for the future he had so diligently clawed to obtain.

“Liars!” He hissed, following them closely in the cover of deep black shadow. They were nothing but a pair of liars, off again to do to others what they had done to him.

He raised trembling fingers to his face and gingerly touched the angry scar that ran atop his forehead and down towards his jaw. She had given that to him, sliced him so effortlessly that one would have thought the witch was cutting through dinner meat.

But it was her companion who gave him the limp, crushed his ankle like stale bread. Even now he had to clench his jaw to keep from hollowing from the lingering pain that radiated throughout when the wind was too chill or he put to much pressure upon it.

Such a brutal pair, dressed in finery; clean and crisp without a care. But it was his fault, all his fault that he had let her honey colored eyes seduce him into welcoming her into his world only to later find that she had a shadow that bore more weight than she.

His only consolation, his only reward was the one Judas kiss she had dealt him before his house of cards crashed to the ground. Now she strolled upon the artificial lights of the night, holding hands with the man she had claimed was nothing more than her brother.

No, he was far more than that, as was she. A groan escaped his lips as pain nearly brought him to his knees. Curse his ankle! Curse the liars! He slipped deeper into the blanket of dark, sweat trickling down the grooves of his scared face.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breath. The pain would cease and when it did, he would follow them again. He would figure out his plan for retribution. He had nothing else to lose nothing else-

The sound of a hand gun being cocked and readied, caused his eyes to peel open. Sweet, warm lips brushed the side of his cheeks as her familiar voice rang in his ear. “I told you that it was over, Jo. We offered you the plea deal and you took it. But you just couldn’t leave well enough alone.” She kissed his cheek and again took the hand of her man.

The liars, the agents, the man who stole his career and the witch who stole his heart. He slumped down right before the bullet slipped through the silencer. “Naw, Judith. I couldn’t leave you alone. Love does that to a man.”


My apologies for finishing this a day late. I let too much time drift away and by the time I realized midnight had come and gone, my story had not been made. Alas, here it is. 


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This entry was posted in: Monday's Muse


Founder of "I came for the soup...", Candice Coates is a Fiction and Non-Fiction Writer, jumping from genres ranging from her most beloved genre, Speculative Science Fiction and Fantasy to Comedic Clean Read Romance and Suspense Thrillers, all with touches of her Christian faith. She is a lover of Ireland, languages, tea, and just about anything with pistachios. When not writing she is working on creating visual art.

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