This week Write at the Merge: Week 22 prompted us with this image
image courtesy of Brooklyn Bridge Baby (via Flickr Creative Commons)
and a song by The Black Keys
Trifecta: Week 79 gave the third definition of the word:
1a : to be or come in sight
b : to show up <appears promptly at eight each day>
2: to come formally before an authoritative body <must appear in court today>
3: to have an outward aspect : seem <appears happy enough>
I wasn’t very inspired by either prompt. I chewed on it for days. I couldn’t find a focus. I thought of quests, digging for gold, diamonds, perhaps revisiting my piece on the alchemist. Nothing really drew me in, which got me thinking maybe I need a go to character with a serial story? I wish I had one. I thought of skipping it, but I’ve been doing that lately and that kind of thing can become habit with me. So this is what I wrangled up:
The velvet rope is lifted without question and she eases into the club. Gold dust sparkles in her blonde mane and golden eyeshadow curtains her eyes like a sun shower on a hot July afternoon. She stands poised on her toes in her Louboutins. She knows she’s going to dig him up. Her man: the one with the fancy clothes and fast cars, an apartment in the city and a house in Connecticut. He could be single or married it didn’t make a difference as long as he was clean, smelled good and carried a lot of cash.
Tomorrow she would be spinning around a pole. Dancing in a squat brick building, handily shaking up the customers until they were washed out. Straddling their thighs, looking them in the eyes without ever seeing them. She’ll squeeze frustration out of weary legs. It wasn’t the City Ballet, but it made her lots of money in the meantime. Until she met Mr. Right with a heart of gold. She’ll fall into his lap and he’ll escort her out. Perhaps, to his house in Connecticut, or an apartment in the city if he has a family. It didn’t really matter. He’ll set her up in luxury. With an American Express Gold card she’ll have all she needs.
Tonight she is looking for fun, laughs, a good time. “Hey, Sonia,” Joey nods to her. “This is Kenneth,” he says. Her gold-dusted eyes follow Joey’s head to the right. Kenneth appears to be a stallion of breeding stock. She sits down next to him. “Hi,” Sonia says with a smoldering smile. She crosses one long leg over the other and says in her head, “Hey, big spender!” She extends a relaxed, soft hand to him. He takes it gently, gives a firm squeeze and lets go quickly. He says something, this one is aged and on the bit, she thinks, a backyard horse with a light mouth. And he smells good.