A bottle of hope sat on the shelf – Room 101

Just something about bleached anus’

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here. These used to be 101 words. Sometimes they still are. Sometimes not. They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time. Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.


“Another,” Balthazar demanded, and slammed his glass on the bar top. His wings bristled, and the dim light glinted on the tips of his horns as he looked around the room. Small wisps of smoke drifted from his nostrils and his thin lips curled up in a sneer, revealing his sharp, white teeth.

A tall, pale faced creature with skin like dirty snow wandered across, his deep blue eyes flashed as he poured a thick, dark liquid into the waiting glass.

“Long day?” He asked. The barkeep pushed the cork back into the bottle, wiped the bar top habitually, and then flicked the cloth so that it sat across his shoulder.

Balthazar snarled and downed the drink, again loudly demanding a refill.

“You sure about that?” Asked the tall, pale creature. “This stuff don’t come cheap you know, and ….”

“Another!” Balthazar roared.

The glass was quickly filled, and then filled once more. The rage in Balthazar’s eyes dimmed slightly with each consumed glass, and by the time he had finished two more he placed the empty vessel quietly.

“Yes,” he said, letting out a long deep sigh.

“Yes, what?” the bar keep asked puzzled, as he offered the bottle once more.

Balthazar placed a hand over the glass and shook his head.

“Long day. You asked me if it had been a long day. Yes, yes it has. Really long.”

The barkeep nodded and placed the bottle back on the shelf behind him as Balthazar continued.

“It’s people you see,” he said, the wisps of smoke now gone and the fire in his eyes dimmed. “You know how it is with them right?” He didn’t, however, wait to find out whether the barkeep did, or did not, know how it was with people and continued. “Every day I get up, clean my horns, sharpen my teeth and ensure that my skin suit is clean and presentable. I’m never late, I stay late, and I give my very best efforts. You know what that gets me?” He asked.

A wide mouthed, bat like creature with ears where its eyes ought to be and eyes where its ears ought to be settled on the bar next to him and looked him up and down. It then caught the attention of the barkeep and asked for two vodka martinis to be delivered to table seven.

“You know how it is with people right?” Balthazar asked it, “you know how they are I’m sure.”

The bat like animal flashed a smile with its ear-eyes and gave Balthazar what he took be a confirmatory nod, and flittered off towards the back of the room where what appeared to be a couple of snakes were having a loud disagreement over the existential power of apple imagery in medieval architecture.

“You see, he knows,” Balthazar said, “he knows what they’re like.”

The barkeep was used to this sort of thing, he tended to see it a lot as the week wore on. First thing Monday morning everyone was filled with the optimism of the week ahead, the potential for pain and suffering, the chance to make a real difference and bring proper misery and sadness. But by Wednesday he could see the doubt seeping in as the long hours took their toll. By Friday the stark reality would dawn on them and they would flock to the bar after work with a pocket full of silver and a big old dose of reality.

“People,” the barkeep said knowingly.

“Exactly!” Proclaimed Balthazar. “See, you get it too. There is nothing that we can do to them that they probably haven’t already done to each other.” He seemed invigorated in finding someone who understood his plight. “Do you know, that just this morning I was doing some anal stretching on a school teacher from California, and do you knwo what she said?”

The barkeep shook his head.

“Bleach. She asked for bleach. Said she wanted to look her best and was wondering if she might be able to put a picture of it it on the ‘gram becasue she was pretty sure none of her friends would believe it.” Balthazar took a deep breath to compose himself, visibly shaking. “Do you know how hard it is to find bleachg down here?” He continued. “But even when I did find some it really wasn’t as if it was my idea, so where’s the joy in that. I had intended to start with gaping and progreess from there. I mean most people finish at gaping, so I set a high bar, professionally speaking. But I just couldn’t relly get into it. She stole all the pleasure from it. Left me with this horrible empty feeling right in the pit of my stomach.”

“That’s out of order,” said the barkeep as he signalled the bat like creature to fetch the drinks for table seven.

“Damn right it is, I had to desecrate a couple of yoga teachers to try and make myself feel better about things, but sometimes even defiled yoga teachers aren’t enough to make you feel good.”

“So what did you do?” The barkeep asked as Balthazar motioned to his empty glass once more.

“2 million likes for a bleached stretched anus,” Balthazar replied, his shoulders slumped and his eyes dark with disappointment. “Two million. I swear, we really should have just left them to it. They dont take anything seriously, and nothing we can do can make it any worse up here…fuck them all.”

Captivating confines – Room 101

Just a wee something…

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  I think for the rest of the month I will do really simple poems…maybe.


 

Soft to the touch plush velvet thick

he wakes, smooth on his face

and all alone heart races quick

and darkness fills the place

He calls but muffled is his voice

And nothing stirs without

In confines tight he strains to move

They cannot hear him shout

Red bleeding nails they scratch and claw

His voice calls loud as thunder

Alone beneath the earth he lies

Just roughly six feet under

 

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/11/01/november-writing-prompts/

 

Lipstick Lover – Room 101

Why not eh…

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  


Connor stood at the bar and finished his…what was it?  Sixth? Seventh drink?

He wasn’t really sure and to be honest it didn’t really matter and the bar man wasn’t interested as long as he kept paying.  But whichever drink it was he finished it in one and beckoned for another, sliding the glass across the bar top.

“Steady on there cowboy” came a voice as smooth and as sweet as honey.  “Drinking alone will get you in trouble.”

He turned slowly, instincts telling him to play it cool and the booze leaving him unsteady on his feet.

“What if I like trouble” he said placing a hand on the sticky bar top to steady himself.  The barman glanced over and shook his head smiling.  “What if I just enjoy…”  He stopped short.

“What if you just enjoy what?” she said running her hand up his arm.

Perhaps it was the drink, or maybe it was the truth – or at least the sort of truth you believe after however many drinks he had finished – but he was certain that she was the more gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

Short dark wavy hair framed her face and her dark eyes smiled and for a minute it felt like she was looking right into his soul.  It made him uncomfortable and excited at the same time.  Actually mostly he was just excited.

Even in the dark of the bar he could see that beneath her tight red dress she had a body built for sin and the slit in her skirt showed more leg than he’d seen even when he was still married and certainly since.  He couldn’t help but stare at her mouth as she spoke, her lips a bright red in stark contrast to her pale skin.

“Cat got your tongue?” She said smiling.

Christ she smelled good he thought, willing her to bit her lip.  He loved a lip biter.  Chances were he’d explode right where he stood if she did.  He took a breath and offered to buy her a drink.

“Oh I’m not really thirsty” she said edging closer and leaning in to whisper in his ear, her hand on chest and the sweet scent of vanilla filling his senses.

“Now? You sure?”  His heart pounded as she nodded. He turned and gave the barman a thumbs up as she lead him from the bar.  “Still got it” he shouted across the noise of the room.  The barman waved and wiped down the bar top.

Holding her hand her skin was soft and he watched her as she walked just ahead of him, her backside like two kittens fighting in a sack.  He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.  She lead him outside and they slipped down the side of the building and around the back of the bar, neon lighting their way and her heels clicking as they went.

“How’s about here?” she said turning around and pushing him against the wall forcefully,  pressing herself against him.  His hands instinctively reached for her the kittens and he squeezed her as she bit her lip staring at him.

“Oh god” he muttered.

“What’s wrong honey?” she asked, her mouth now just inches from his and her hands on his chest and sliding slowly downwards.  He gasped as he felt her unbuckle his belt and tried to kiss her, hungry to taste her lips.

She pulled back and grinned.  “So You ready then?” she said playfully.  He nodded and closed his eyes, desperate to feel her fingers around him.

She pressed closer still and he felt every curve of her body against his.  He could feel her breath on his lips and he knew that any minute he would feel her soft warm candy red lips.  His hands ran up her back and then back down her sides, resting on her hips, as she pulled down his zip.  God this was really happening he said to himself.  He wanted to touch her, to feel her, explore her.

“I…” he struggled for words as he felt the button of his jeans being opened.

She stopped and took his hand from her hip and steered him to her stomach and then guided him lower still.

“You want it don’t you?” he said staring into her eyes.

She nodded and licked her lips.

Every fibre in his body reacted and he reached under the slit of her skirt, her skin smooth and warm.

“Oh yes baby do it” said kissing closing her eyes.

His heart pounded and he spun her around, reversing their positions and pushing her against the wall.  This was it, he was going to have her.  Right here.  Tight now.

He leaned in and kissed her, lips soft and warm and her tongue already searching for his as their lips met.  His hand slid further under her skirt and she bit his lip playfully groaning as his hand passed over her thigh.

“Yes, oh yes” she said and kissed him back, her stance widening welcoming him between her thighs.  “Touch me.”

As her tongue entered his mouth he closed his eyes and reached for her, hungry to feel how she was responding to him.

“Christ” he said stepping back, the colour draining from his face.  “You…you’re…”

“What’s wrong baby?” she asked running her finger over her lips. “Jealous because it’s bigger than yours?”

The dream of all dreams – Room 101

A thing for Friday

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with this one I did yesterday as I felt they went well together…


 

Stan’s eyes felt heavy, as if pinned down by the weight of the darkness that surrounded him, his head filled with a static that made it hard to think.  Hard to remember.  He could hear a beep, beep, beep as he lay whilst his mind scrambled to piece the shards of remembrances together.

With an effort that took everything he had, he strained against the confusion and managed to pry them open, only to be met by vague and confusing out of focus images.  Wincing he closed them again and succumbed to the comfort of the embracing blackness.

“Where…?” He asked himself, “where is this?” His mouth dry as he struggled to find the right words as a mix of sounds and smells washed over him like the lapping of distant waves.

And then he heard her, feint above the beep, beep, beep, somehow familiar and comforting, and he knew she mattered more than anything, but in a moment as he reached out she was gone, slopping through his fingers like fog.

He opened his mouth to scream, to call her name, but there was nothing there, only a suffocating silence and each breath felt like a fire trapped inside his chest.  Fists clenched he tried to move, to reach out, to grab hold of her and to tell her to wait but she melted into the inky shadows of  his mind as the beep, beep, beep slowed.

Beep

Beep

Beep…

 

 

Petals and Parasols – Room 101

Another thing about stuff and people and more stuff

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with this one I did yesterday as I felt they went well together…


 

Whenever the rain fell he thought of her, of the time they had spent in Paris together and how they had loved without any thought for the repercussions.  To fall so hard and so deep and so very, very quickly was intoxicating and she was a tempest like no one he had ever known .

He remembered the way she looked as she slept, the morning sun golden on her soft pale skin as she lay naked on the bed.  He could still feel her against him when he closed his eyes, the way she smelled and moved.

She made him feel complete and like nothing else mattered, only whatever it was that they were when they were together, which was always.

Watching the rain pool and swirl about his feet he pulled the collar of his coat around his ears and tried to forget the times when the bed was empty, when the clock ticked by as he sat alone and wondered where she was.  She had so many friends, it was understandable because she was pure joy to be around and you could not but help to want to spend time with her.

The rain, cold on his cheeks, mingled with tears as cars drove by splashing onwards through the night and off into the distance.  Standing on the bridge looking out over the Seine feint church bells called out and he saw her face again, filled with the pain and sadness that his jealousy had caused and he recalled with a knot in his stomach how she had begged him to trust her.

Most of all though he remembered the silence that followed her screams…

 

 

A Day of Denial – Room 101

Another thing about stuff and people and more stuff

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are, like this one.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with this one I did yesterday as I felt they went well together…


The sea of smiling faces turned as the doors opened slowly, the first strains of the organ playing.

She was a vision in white but all he could feel was rage.  Rage at the thing inside her, the thing that bound him to her.  Rage at how they valued nothing but money, and who saw him as merely another thing to be possessed.

She smiled at her sister as she approached, another vacuous thing living only to please daddy.  “I should bend her over” he thought to himself smiling.

The music stopped as she took his hand.

“You look beautiful darling.”

 

 

 

 

 

You look beautiful

 

Blushing Brilliance – Room 101

Another thing about stuff and people and more stuff

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are, like this one.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with another to be published tomorrow as I felt they went well together…


As the doors opened she saw him standing there, waiting, smiling.  So very obedient and willing, like a little dog.  He was far from perfect but he would do for now.

She instinctively touched her stomach and breathed deep.  “God it better be a boy” she thought to herself.  That would shut her sister up for sure, her and her watery bollocked husband.  They’d only given him girls and they both knew how much the old man wanted a grand son.

“Ready pumpkin?” he asked, the music playing.  “He’s waiting.”

She squeezed his hand and smiled.

“Thank you daddy, for everything”

 

 

One more Day

As time draws near and daylight fades and night knocks on my door…

As time draws near and daylight fades and night knocks on my door

To take my hand and lead away to far and distant shore

I know that I shall want one more, and beg that I may stay

to spend with you from waking hours until the end of day

 

To see you smile and hear your voice and watch you as you sleep

and laugh and love and cry and drink of all you are quite deep

and so to sunset one last time I hold you in my arms

and lovers promises I make and swear I’ll never harm

 

And in those moments faces lined and eyes still burning bright

I kiss your lips and say farewell and head into the night

without regret without remorse and love without relent

and thank you for your years and love and faith and life well spent

Brian and Carla – 75 word Story

Just a quick something

Brian looked into his wife’s eyes and sighed.

“I’m so sorry it ended like this” he said “I wanted it to work but I realise we want different things.”

Carla said nothing, staring back expressionless.

“I know” Brian continued.  “I know it’s my fault I just…”

Brian paused, he had hoped for something.  Anything.

“Fine, just fine” he said picking up his shovel and tipping soil over Carla’s already stiffening body.  “Silent treatment it is…”

One more day

Let’s try a little serious shall we…

Okay so I piss about a bit with my blog I realise. If my poems had a ‘Eeeeuuuwww button’ then I am pretty sure it would get pressed more than my likes. I was challenged by Roda – I think that’s what happened – to try a happy ending or two so for this week I will have a crack at a few more pleasant subjects.


At Days close he waits content

to say goodbye and drift to night

and in those moments years rolled back

warm smiles and joy and eyes shine bright

Her warm embrace and tender kiss

and babies cries and laughter sweet

when blankets laid across his knees

worn eyes do close and visions greet

First words, first steps, first dates first kiss

long days dark nights but then

he sees her face and hears her voice

and love’s restored again

And as he slips to dark and rest

a life well lived he sees

of family, love and heart and hearth

life passing like the breeze

And in that moment vivid, clear

old lips whisper and say

each day a treasure I received

farewell, on this last day

Roll up roll up get your steaming hot love limericks

A tale of love in the middle ages

This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.  

 

Once a fellow quite fond of romance

took a buxom young girl to a dance

he was charming and sweet

swept her right off her feet

all a plan to get into her pants

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

photo courtesy of me

Roll up roll up get your steaming hot love limericks

A tale of love in the middle ages

This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.  

 

A sweet maid gave her heart to her fella

but alas she was ripe he could smell her

from her feet to her pits

tits and girl naughty bits

but was desperate so chose not to tell her

 

 

 

 

 

 

photo courtesy of me

Roll up roll up get your steaming hot love limericks

Dirty dirty dirty

This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.  

 

A comely barmaid from Mauritius

proclaimed “Semen is oh so delicious

and so good for my skin

and it keeps me quite thin

full of protein and very nutritious.”

 

photo courtesy of me

Roll up roll up get your steaming hot love limericks

Men…really.

This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.  

 

Chap I know met a lass from Djibouti

Eyes like sapphires and lips red like rubies

said he so loved her mind

but quite adored her behind

and was rather obsessed with her boobies

 

 

photo courtesy of me

Roll up roll up get your steaming hot love limericks

Chances are they will be inappropriate. In fact it is almost certain.

This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.  

Loves young dream at the alter they stand

the wedding she wanted, quite grand

three hours later all tears

full of champagne and beers

bridesmaid caught with his knob in her hand

 

 


photo courtesy of me

Revenge Limericks

Isn’t it great when bad things happen to terrible people.

This week my mind turns to revenge and perhaps, for that special someone who has slighted you and has now finds themselves in a pickle.  Maybe you want to send them a nice card with a limerick expressing how sad you are that they have had such a lousy spell of bad luck.

 

There once was a waiter named skip

tried so hard, customers did not tip

paid the bill, left and sneered

got run over, car veered

ran them down, both now dead, what a trip!

 

Remember, always tip!

 

 


photo courtesy of pixabay

Revenge Limericks

Isn’t it great when bad things happen to terrible people.

This week my mind turns to revenge and perhaps, for that special someone who has slighted you and has now finds themselves in a pickle.  Maybe you want to send them a nice card with a limerick expressing how sad you are that they have had such a lousy spell of bad luck.

 

As it is Saturday I will, rather than do full limericks as I have been doing all week, just give you a taste of the opening lines I did not use this week.  I don’t think they need explaining…

 

So your penis got caught in your zip.  (I’d lined up rip, snip, bleed and seed to go with it)

What this gun?  Oh don’t worry it’s fine

Heard you got back from hols and have aids

Saw your wife wow her butt has got huge

 

Anyway…have a nice Saturday wherever in the world you are!

 

 


photo courtesy of pixabay