• Who We Are

  • Schedule

    Mondays ~
    Tuesdays ~ Snarky
    Wednesdays ~ Dreamer
    Thursdays ~ Naughty
    Fridays ~ Dreary
    Saturdays ~
    Sundays ~

    Whenever ~ Smokey, Mighty, Eerie and Wicked

  • Snarky’s Tweets

  • Kinetic’s Tweets

  • Dreamer’s Tweets

  • Wicked’s Tweets

  • Eerie’s Tweets

  • Mighty’s Tweets

Going to Jail

Kelly’s hands went numb. Painful tingling spread down her arms.   “What does that mean?”

For the first time in the years they’d worked together, her lawyer avoided her gaze. “You got ten years.”

“T—Te—Ten…”

“Put your head between your legs.” But he didn’t give her time to reply; instead, he shoved her head between her knees.

Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps. The numbness had spread to her arms, which lay like spaghetti-noodles at her side.

When her breathing finally slowed, he released the back of her head.

She sat up, her view shifting from her ten dollar shoes to the merciless courtroom. “But I’m innocent.”

Brian turned to her, his ruthless lawyer mask gone. “I’m so sorry. But… we knew this could be a possibility. That’s why I suggested taking the plea deal.”

“Counselor?” A smile touched one corner of the judge’s mouth. “Does your client need another moment?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Brian turned back to her. “They’re going to take you in a minute.”

But Kelly wasn’t looking at him. All she could see was the twinkle in the judge’s eyes. This was not a man who thought he’d given a fair ruling. No, this was a man who’d been paid quite nicely to lock her away.

Anger clenched Kelly’s gut. She couldn’t let this happen. No, she wouldn’t let this happen.

Guards came, cuffing her hands in front of her. They led her towards the side door, but she moved slowly, never breaking eye contact with the judge. “Tell Johnny this isn’t over.”

His eyes narrowed. “Wait.”

The guards looked confused, but obeyed.

The judge came to stand a hand’s length in front of her. His sleek black hair looked wet. His nose was as red as a drunk’s, and she caught the unmistakable scent of whiskey.

He motioned the guards away, then leaned towards her and sneered. “I wonder if you’ll still think you’re too good for Johnny’s bed by the time you get out.”

She flashed him a smile. Her cold hand clenched his sickly-thin wrist. In a flash, the world spun and shifted.

“Back off!” The guards hauled her away.

No, not her, but the judge.

The body she now wore ached with age, smelled of body odor and liquor, and felt weak and uncomfortable. But as she watched the judge finally realizing what she’d done, his eyes widening and his mouth dragging open, a feeling of immense satisfaction filled her.

The door closed on his shouts.

Now, to find that son-of-a-bitch, Johnny, and make him pay.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

Sometimes the best thing a writer can do is pick a topic and write a quick short story about it.  I think it gives me a chance to stretch my creativity, without committing to anything.  The temptation to obsessively go back through this, improving it until it is perfect, rears its ugly head.  But, I’m not going to do that.

I’d love some other topics though.  Any suggestions?

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1 Comment

  1. This was amazing! I don’t have any suggestions for topics right now, but it’s really fun to rewrite urban legends from foreign countries. Just for an idea

    Reply

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