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500 X 152 Mirror

 
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 11:15 am    Post subject: 500 X 152 Mirror Reply with quote


Here you go. I hope you enjoy this. This comes from Honor's webpage. Pertinent info: From Honor’s site: Writer’s Block
http://writersblock360.multiply.com/photos/album/48#19
Have fun,
shadowlight

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Harry
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 01, 2009 1:35 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Aunt Daisy

Harry Buschman


Emmy’s upstairs in the attic. I can hear her. She’s trying on Aunt Daisy’s old clothes again, lookin’ at herself in the gold trimmed mirror. I’ve tried to make myself throw those old clothes away – after all Daisy’s been gone three years now.

Emmy keeps asking about Daisy. Who she was and why she lived here? Why she never married and why we always called her our rich aunt? I don’t want to tell her everything about Daisy. It’ll only bring up Moe Lustig and the Mexican cocaine gang. Some day it’ll all come out anyway, but at least I won’t be the one who tells her.

I’ll bet she’s walking around up there looking at herself in Daisy’s clothes – her mink coat and the spangly dresses she wore singin’ at the Blue Angel over in El Paso. That’s where she met Moe. Moe was always goin’ or comin’ from Morningside down Route 54 to Juarez on the other side of the border. Money went south and the dope went north.

Moe had the hots for Daisy and nothing was too good for her. Clothes. The mink coat. Jewelry – cash too. He was planning to get out of drug running and he had his eye on a little ranch for Daisy and him up near Morningside. But you can’t plan on living to a ripe old age when you’re in the business of cocaine, specially when you’re skimming the pay-off. Moe’s buried in a field somewhere just outside Juarez. Daisy said it was right after he gave her the mink coat and I always thought it was a crazy idea to give somebody a mink coat in South Texas anyway.

Daisy didn’t grieve for long. She cashed in all the jewelry, and counting the cost of dismounting the gems and melting down the gold and silver she had more money than she ever could have made at the Blue Angel. She come to spend the rest of her days with us and we always called her our rich aunt. The thing is ... Emmy wants to be just like her.

So she’s up there struttin’ around the front of Aunt Daisy’s old mirror, doing up her hair and makin’ like she’s a chanteuse at the Blue Angel ... singin’ for her own particular Moe Lustig.

Must run in the family.
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 08, 2009 7:51 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wow, I really like this one, Harry. So is Emmy really Daisy's daughter? By the narrator, perhaps? I'm curious because of the line that it must run in the family. I hope Emmy doesn't go the way of Daisy. It sounds like such a sad, lonely life. Well written as usual. There's a story in here, if you decide to flesh it out. Thanks for sharing, my friend.

shadowlight

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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 08, 2009 7:53 am    Post subject: Mirror, Mirror (WC 500) Reply with quote

Ok, here's mine. Thanks for taking a look. Wink

shadowlight



Mirror, Mirror
© marlicia Fernandez (WC 500) 8-08-09



Stephen ran his hands through his hair. “Where do I start?”

“Try the beginning.” Sgt. Peterson took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled a series of smoke rings. “Then we won’t miss anything.” He shook the half-empty pack on the table. “Want one?”

“No thanks.” Stephen took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s all so unreal. Like a nightmare.”

“Or a bad trip, huh sport?”

“I told you, I don’t do drugs anymore.” Stephen voice cracked. “I’m clean.”

Peterson pushed a thin file across the table. “Maybe, but you haven’t always been, have you?”

Stephen flushed. “That was a long time ago. And the charges were dropped.”

“Not all of them.” Peterson flicked some ashes into the ashtray and opened the file. “Under the influence of an experimental drug…” He ran his finger down the page. “Leonore Anderson disappeared, was never found. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah, so what? This time wasn’t like that. I’d been clubbing, yeah. But I left early.”

“Listen kid, witnesses said you spoke to the missing young woman—uh Jennifer Hodges-- before you left. By your own admission she arrived on your doorstep forty-five minutes after that.”

“I know what I said.” Stephen looked at his hands. Calloused from his carpentry work, but clean. Strong and capable. He wished he felt as strong and capable as his hands looked.

A smoke ring drifted under his nose. Stephen coughed and wiped his eyes. He looked at his interrogator. “Could have a glass of water?”

Peterson walked to the door and rapped on it. It opened and a head peeked in through the crack.

“Yes?”

“Water for the prisoner.”

The door closed.

“Ok, sport. Let’s have your story.”

Stephen swallowed. “It was Friday night. I’d been working hard so I decided to have a little fun.” He looked up when the door opened and a female cop brought him his drink and left without a word. Stephen downed a third of it in one gulp. “I’d hadn’t been clubbing since Leonore, so I thought I’d try it. Didn’t like it much, so I headed home early.”

“But not before you spoke with Jennifer.” Smoke drifted across the table. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah. I knew her from high school. It was strange seeing her there. Not her type of place.”

Peterson ground his cigarette butt into the ashtray. “What happened next?”

“She showed up at my door unannounced.” Stephen shuddered. “She was terrified.”

“Of what?”

“Who knows? She begged me for a place to crash for the night. I gave her the bedroom and spent the night on the couch. When I woke she was trapped in the mirror.”

“Mr. Lamborsky. No one is trapped in your mirror. We found Jennifer ‘s body in an alley two blocks from your apartment.” Peterson leaned forward. “Did you really think it would work again? Do you think we’re stupid? You painted her image on the mirror. Mr. Lamborsky, why did you kill her? What did Jennifer ever do to you?”

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Harry
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 08, 2009 9:09 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hard to break old habits, isn't it. Seems like such a logical explanation too – can't understand why the police don't believe him. Good dialogue, Marlicia. Terse, cop and suspect talk ... how you do it without swearing I'll never know.
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Linda
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 08, 2009 9:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Harry wrote:
...Emmy’s upstairs in the attic...trying on Aunt Daisy’s old clothes again...,looking at herself in Daisy’s ... mink coat and the spangly dresses she wore singin’ at the Blue Angel ... I always thought it was a crazy idea to give somebody a mink coat in South Texas anyway...thing is ... Emmy wants to be just like her...Must run in the family.


Great story Harry....I thought you had to be born and raised down south to think this way. I grew up hearing my aunts, uncles, and grandparents (would be narators) talking about one of us following in the footsteps of "bad blood"...it didn't matter whose house we were sitting in, or who was talking…it was understood "the family” meant the whole family...aunt, uncle, cousin, brother, sister, or elder... I loved it! You are a naturalist.

Linda

(PS...this is one UKA...if you have not already posted it)
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Linda
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 08, 2009 9:23 am    Post subject: Re: Mirror, Mirror (WC 500) Reply with quote

shadowlight wrote:
...“Mr. Lamborsky. No one is trapped in your mirror. We found Jennifer ‘s body in an alley two blocks from your apartment.” Peterson leaned forward. “Did you really think it would work again? Do you think we’re stupid? You painted her image on the mirror. Mr. Lamborsky, why did you kill her? What did Jennifer ever do to you?”


Great story...I was thrown off a little by the underlined sentence...in my opinion, it took away from the implied insanity of Lamborsky...but, otherwise...great write.
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 08, 2009 11:38 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Harry,

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on this for me. I really appreciate it. And I'm glad you enjoyed the dialogue. That makes me really happy. I hate swearing and try not to use it if at all possible. Wink Thank you very much for your kind words.


Linda,

It's good to see you back. I've missed you. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on this for me. I really appreciate it. It's funny, the sentence you underlined was a last minute addition and I wasn't sure I liked it. Maybe you're right. Maybe it would be stronger without it. Wink Thank you very much for you kind words.

shadowlight

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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Thu Nov 11, 2010 4:22 am    Post subject: Posted by shadowlight for Cara Reply with quote

That's My Girl

By

Cara Walker


“How do I look, Mark?” Jessie was nervous, although it wasn’t the 5,000 seat, full to the brim theater that was making her so jittery.

“Beautiful.” We were standing in her dressing room, an old room full of ancient props and pictures of past performers. She could have had a better room, of course- she was the star- but she’d chosen this one. I bent down slightly and pecked her on the cheek.

“Don’t lie.” She sighed. Ah. I’d known that we would hit that. It was the reason that she’d had to be convinced, (forced would be a better word), to perform, the reason that the mirror was cleverly placed to only show her from the head down. It was the reason that she’d refused to see her face in the mirror for almost a year.

“Really, Jess. You look amazing. Even if I do say so myself.” I kissed her again. Just then, an announcement came over the intercom to say that it was 5 minutes until the performance started.

“Oh, God. Five minutes, I’m not even ready, I should have… I should never… I can’t do this.” She was heading for a panic attack.

“Yes you can, Jessie. You’ll be brilliant.” I kissed her again, on the lips now, to try and calm her down a little. “Just like before.”

She pulled away from me, tugging off her coat, pulling on her skinny jeans and the silver high heeled shoes that I’d bought her last Christmas. When she saw the expression on my face, she burst out laughing.
“Jeez, Mark. It’s not that good.”

“It is.”

She chuckled again.

“Whatever. Now, if you’d like to pick your jaw up OFF the floor, you can come with me and watch from the wings.” She looked at me. She was nervous again, and I laid an arm over her shoulders and guided her to the side of the stage.

“Go on, Jess. You’ll be great.” I whispered.

She walked out onto the stage, and the reaction from the crowd couldn’t have been more positive. They were all up on their feet, stomping, clapping, cheering. I slipped out of the pass door and over to an empty seat in the front row. When she started to sing the first song, I yelled;
“GO ON, JESS. ROCK ‘EM BABE!”

That was my Jessie, up on stage doing what she was born to do. I felt like the happiest man on Earth.


Sorry for the randomness of this one . I'd had the characters in my head for a little while, but this was the first time I found them something to be in.

Cara

P.S- Am I too late to post on this one?
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Thu Nov 11, 2010 7:34 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

This was a fun read, Cara (and it's never too late Wink ). I could feel her trepidation and his concern. She's lucky to have him. Wink Is she performing in a play or is she a singer? What happened to her that she doesn't want to look in a mirror and see her face? This could be expanded on, I'm thinking. Nice job!

Keep up the good work and thanks for sharing. New 'blood' is always appreciated here at the Voice's 500 club.

God bless,
shadowlight
with God all things are possible

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wrighton
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PostPosted: Thu Dec 02, 2010 3:31 pm    Post subject: Curse of Vanity Reply with quote

The screech of the old door was unmistakable, the years of rainy weather and humidity had made the wood swell. The sound was as familiar as my prison, and even after all the attempts at escape, my heart beat faster, and hope peaked again, even after all the dissapointment. Watching the door, I almost feel like a cat, ready to pounce on whom ever enters. Maybe this will be the time, and while hope rears its head, it is both more jaded and faded then it was in the beginning.
It was my vanity that did it, but not that alone. Oh, no, it was also the way that I treated others, as though I was something more, and they were nothing.
I had come on hard times and had turned my home into a tea room, hoping against a time that I would be penniless. That would not do for me, I was above it all.
It was the old witch that did it, not content to stop by for her tea and be on her way, she was tired of being looked down on.
Her spell cast me into the mirror, living life from the inside, watching it all pass me by. The spell could only be broken when someone more selfish came to the old shop. I had hoped for over a hundred years, was I really the worst there ever was?.
I watch, waiting for my new visitor, would this be the one? Stepping through the door as though she were a queen the young woman stepped closer to the mirror. She had to admire the odd piercing of her eyebrow, the silver stud in her toungue, and as she turned before the mirror, she threw a look back at the huge but beautiful tatoo on her back, grinning at what she considered her beauty. She could not wait for all the new admirers.
I looked again, and then around, there was that pesky door. It had never looked better to me. I closed it carefully when I left the room.
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Harry
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PostPosted: Fri Dec 03, 2010 5:40 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Very imaginative, carefully planned and it leaves the reader with a question that can only be answered in time ... you duck out in time and leave us a question we can only answer ourselves ... to ourselves. The way good fiction should be.
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 3:16 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wow, what a creative piece. I wouldn't have thought of it, ever. Thanks for sharing. It was a real pleasure.

God bless,
shadowlight
with God all things are possible

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