Author: maleghast (Page 29 of 35)

The machine-gun rattle of the ratchet on the jib sheet winch snapped me out of my reverie and reminded me that we were tacking. I needed to think about where I was sitting, what I was doing and holding and where I was looking. I had been staring off at the coast,at the waves as they crashed into the end of the headland. Such power and majesty – I see it often and yet it always moves me.

Jacques turned to me, cigarette in his mouth as ever, and nodded that all was ok; we had gone about cleanly and now we needed to trim the boat and do our part to help Yves plough the course that would extend our lead. As I settled into my spot I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warm sun on my face and the fresh smell of the sea on the breeze; the feeling of salt on my skin.

I have been told by some that it is corny to speak romantically of the sea and my connection to it – we are an island nation, so we are all sailors at heart they have said to me. Still in that moment I knew no greater joy than making way under sail.

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This Ficlet was inspired by the following image:

Photo by sharkbait (on Flickr)

“Come on, come in here; I can’t wait!”

Lori dragged me into a cupboard that I had not even seen and closed the door behind us. There in the dark she started to push her hand down my pants, to free up my hardening cock; her mouth covering my face with kisses. My head was spinning, I was still in the corridor just walking along hand in hand, but clearly Lori was not just at the next level; in her mind I was already inside her and now she was fighting to bring me up to speed.

“That’s right. Come on, baby, I want you inside me, now! Hurry!”

Before I had met Lori there had always been a part of me that wanted a sexually voracious lover. The thing was now that I had her there were times when it was tough to tell whether I was as much of an object to her as I felt. I know, from a male perspective it’s a terrible problem to have; I should have just shut up and enjoyed all the sex that I had always wanted, but I needed to know that what I wanted mattered as well. I could not believe I was saying it;

“No, stop.”

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“What do you mean ‘This will only work here and now’? You are starting to sound like you believe in magic, Edward.”

Teri had resented carrying the heavy cardboard box that had been in the boot of their car for two days. He would not say what was inside it. All that he had said was that it would all become clear once they arrived at The Alhambra, in Granada. She was used to his impromptu trips; she had even been happy to be asked along for once, but now she was starting to wonder why she trusted him at all. They had arrived in The Court of the Lions and like a change in the wind she already saw a different man in him.

“You will see, Teri. Tonight I am going to release my brother from his torment and then, together, we will see such sights…”

She shuddered, as if a cold hand had touched her shoulder.

“You’re scaring me Ed. What do you mean?”

“Oh you’ll see, but you are right to be afraid; quite right indeed.”

His eyes flashed red, and she turned to run. Sadly the feeling was not only gone from her arms.

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You can see the original post on Ficlets.com by clicking here.

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This Ficlet was brought to you by the suggestion for ‘Three Things’ from 8w_gremlin Those three things were:

1. A location: The Alhambra
2. An object: A cardboard box
3. An activity: Losing ones ability to feel

Thanks mon ami – I hope that you like what I did with your inspiration 🙂

The bench was wet, but he sat there anyway. Josiah had sat there every day for nearly 33 years. He had been on the street that day; the day that Charcoal Alley got its name. He was nine years old when 103rd street had been razed to the ground at the hands of the rioters. He could remember the heat; it had been unbearable, all of the stores burning along the road.

As he sat and watched the new Blue Line train zip by the old Watts Station, Josiah could not help but think of the angry mobs of men, looting and fighting in the streets. Like a lot of kids he had hidden from them, but he had watched. Seen things that no child should see. There were times when it seemed so far away to him; now there were strong black figures in the movies, the pop charts, in politics even; so much more than then, and that was not really the half of it. Even if the election brought Obama to the Whitehouse there would still be his memories of that time. Hate would take longer than a man’s life to be banished, as far as he could tell.

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The sun felt good on her face, it raised her heart just enough. She knew that she would catch hell for leaving the castle and losing the guards that her father put such stock in. She was strong and agile but surely if they were worth their retainer she should not be able to evade them so easily.

As she wandered through the cherry orchard, idly picking fruit, she let her mind wander to Lissa. She could see her soft white skin, her smooth toned body slick with the dark water of the reflecting pool as she had climbed out under the moonlight. She burned to touch her, to kiss her. Lissa would never bear to hear it she knew that. One of her spying sessions had yielded the fact that Lissa was attracted to men. It had been hard and yet so powerful to watch her making love to Damon in the maze, their bodies becoming one in the night. Even with the lust that she felt there was something deeper there as well. Not being able to tell Lissa, knowing that it would hurt her, that was what cut her deeper than anything else.

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The wind whipped the rain into his face; his hood offered no protection from the sharp needles of water, it was that it was keeping him warmer than he would be without it that gave him any comfort.

He had been on the road for twelve days, on the back roads, sleeping in ditches. When he had volunteered to be one of the Duke’s couriers he had forseen horses and diplomatic protections and heraldry, not traveling incognito on foot, jumping at every shadow. For the first six months he found it impossible to get used to carrying a sword whenever he left the manor, and even more troublesome to sleep with it by his side, slightly loosed from its scabbard.

He crested the hill and looked down at the valley through the rain and gloom; even though it was a hour before sunset it was almost as dark as a moonless night. He knew that it was important that he made it across the valley before night really fell, but the dark shapes moving along the treeline a hundred yards down the hill made him wonder at the chances of that.

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“I don’t know what to say, Sara. I really don’t.”

She tried to smile through her tears as she moved her head to the sound of my voice. I was struck by how odd it was to see her cry; I had not seen her cry since the accident, and her closed eyes with tears seemed somehow unnatural to me.

“I know that you are suffering Ethan, I know you are hiding things from me and I cannot bear that there is this wall between us. You know that I don’t blame you for anything, but since I left the hospital it’s as though you can’t bear to touch me. When you do kiss me, or hold me I can feel your reticence and when I’ve tried to initiate anything more you back away from me. I can’t bear that you are still here because you feel guilty; just go!”

I want so very much to be able to say that my heart broke in that moment, but I felt it lift; as though all of my guilt left me and I was free again. Not my guilt for taking her sight, but the guilt that was holding me to her.

I kissed her forehead, picked up my keys and left.

“Bye.”

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Llewellyn smiled as he felt the power surge through his arms. He had spent days preparing for this, researching the proper ritual details – the symbols, the candles, the tokens. It had been rewarding, but now there was a real understanding for him that he could hold power in his hands. There were no cold flames of blue energy, or crackles of electrical discharge like in the movies, but he could feel the ebb and flow of real power as he flexed his arms.

He stepped towards the small dais and placed his hands on the medallion, formed in the shape of a simple etched pentacle on a disc of pure silver.

“Invicta tempestatis, in petram audacia!”

As he spoke the words he tried to force the power that he felt coursing through him out of his hands and into the medallion. It seemed to him that is was working. There was a sensation, it felt at its strongest in his forearms, which reminded him of the feeling of bleeding, but much stronger.

In the end the feeling dissipated and he stepped back, he relaxed; it was done.

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Allanah adjusted the hem of her skirt and tried not to look shifty as she cast her eyes about the waiting room. The thought was already at the forefront of her mind “I don’t belong here”. No matter how much Peter had tried to talk up her confidence, no matter how much he had reminded her that she had earned the chance to be there she was still a prisoner of everything that she had been told by everyone else.

GLUG , GLUG, GLUG

She started at the sound, jumped right out of her skin, and then her face flushed as she realised that there was someone standing at the water cooler. He was a good looking devil; six foot or so, athletic, sharp suit. As he walked past her she caught his cologne and she could not help but look up at him to try and see his face. He must have sensed her interest, because he turned back just enough to make eye contact with her. Her heart skipped a beat as she fell into his almond shaped grey eyes, and for just a moment she forgot about Peter, and then the stranger was around the corner.

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Felix crouched down by the tree, aware of the fact that if the rain started to come down any harder he would not be safe from it even there. It was not so much that he was bothered about receiving a good drenching at the hands of random chance and more that he was far from home with his camera and no waterproof bag to protect it from this unforseen, heavy shower.

Left and right, across the park, he could see people running for shelter, bags and newspapers held over their heads, and then he saw her and the rest of the world fell away.

Felix had always loved Serena. From when they were four years old, playing in the sandpit in her garden, to her being his date for his leavers’ ball after A-Levels and onward. Even after she had left him for the dreaded Jonas, he had still loved her. He had not expected to see her on this trip to see his folks, he did not even know that she was back in Marlow. He watched her, enchanted that as others dashed to ‘safety’ she pranced gaily through the rain, playing with her hair.

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