Obsessed

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. Click the link to read the other entries–good stuff over there! 

This week's prompt was "obsession". 

NOTE: This is an excerpt from a  piece I have been working with for a while, I refined it to fit 100 words and still keep the general feeling.To those reading this who know me, no I am not a stalker. (Not that I haven't cruised an ex-boyfriend's house back in the day.) I was inspired by a story I saw of an obsessed mistress who followed her lover's every move. I couldn't help but think "who has time for that kind of thing?" I mean seriously, that is some kind of commitment. I can't even get to the gym every day.

I Think I will Stalk You

Drive by your house

just to see if you're there

Walk down your street

to exactly where

you work every day

your window, the blinds.

I know where you eat,

you're so easy to find,

Wait at the post office

you frequent each day.

Maybe the library

just down the way

From where you live

with your cute little wife.

Happy as can be,

she's living my life.

Yes, I'll walk down your street,

lurk at the corner,

drive by your house,

befriend your wife.

So I think I will stalk you.

And then I realize,

I have lunch plans.

Opportunity

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. Click the link to read the other entries–good stuff over there! 

This week's prompt was "handsome". 

At the end of a gray October weekend she told him with tears in her eyes that she didn't think she could do it anymore. She was tired, emotionally exhausted by her own jealousy and anger. He smiled and told her that her eyes were beautiful in the sunlight, reaching to wipe away a tear. “They look so green” he said, then a moment of hesitation before he kissed her goodbye.

He had never looked so handsome as the day he let her go. He just tucked her into her car and walked away. The next week she turned 21.

Kissing Strange Boys

She was not in the habit of kissing strange boys. And this boy was strange, no doubt about it. He danced like the crazy homeless man she had seen on the streets of Nashville. But on him it was cute, sexy even. 

She touched her fingers to his hair, soft and blonde and hanging over his shirt collar like yellow silk. Fine, thin hair that he would lose someday in the not so distant future. She always could predict those kinds of things. Strange though he was, when he moved his lips to hers she accepted and returned the kiss.

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. 
The prompt was "fingers".