Monday Flash Fics: Bed Partners

Bed Partners

It has been a while. In fact, it has been so long I didn’t think we’d ever end up like this again. When was the last time we shared a bed? I’m not sure I could name the date or count the years.

I’ve missed it. I should probably be ashamed to admit it, but who cares? It is not as if anybody can hear me or read my mind. Nobody knows that I’ve spend quite a few nights yearning for his solid presence next to me. Yes, I can hear the sniggers; I know many would laugh out loud if they knew we still share a bed on occasion, twenty-five years after we were first put in a cot together.

It’s funny, but the memories of that first night are still as clear as crystal. We fitted together perfectly back then. There was no space for fear in my heart or monsters in the room when we were together. And that’s the way it stayed for years, until it stopped. With great reluctance we parted. I’d known the moment would come for a long time. Relationships like ours don’t last. We outgrow them; need to move on to other bed partners. But knowing something is going to happen doesn’t make it easier to deal with when it does. And you do get very attached to someone you share a bed with, night after night, for years.

Right now I’d like to think this is how we’ll stay forever. Together, giving and receiving comfort, alleviating the loneliness, but I know that’s not how our lives are meant to play out. After twenty-five years both of us are too old for this. My cuddle partner and I should both be moving on to new bodies to derive comfort from and give pleasure to. But he still makes me feel safe and loved. I never feel alone when we’re sharing a bed. I’ll enjoy it while I can and try not to think about the future, because who knows when that future and the changes it will bring might arrive.

For most of the night we were snuggled up close together, sharing comfort; soft skin against even softer fur. I don’t mind the distance between us now.

I’m just glad to have my human back where he belongs.

****

386 words.

Don’t forget to check out the Monday Flash Fics Group on Facebook for other stories inspired by the same picture.

Monday Flash Fics: The Chosen One

The Chosen One

“Are you ready?”

Kell took a deep breath and swallowed before opening his mouth to respond. Forty-eight hours of not talking to anyone had left his mouth dry and him tongue tied. “Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“I don’t know what you’re so worried about. It’s a simple test. All firstborns in our line have to face it. You know this.” His mother sounded exasperated.

He forced a smile on his face and got up from the floor where he’d been sitting. Stretching his limps to get the kinks out he bought himself a few more precious seconds. What if it happened? What if it didn’t?

His mother handed Kell the hooded cloak and he put it on over his naked body. He should have spent the past two days meditating, preparing his mind, body and soul for the revelations he might be facing. Instead he’d worried about the future and dreamed about Mascha.

Mascha. He only just repressed the sigh wanting to escape him. They’d known better. Both he and Mascha had known what lay ahead and that they might not have a future together. They’d tried to fight the feelings but the connection between them had been too strong. They’d talked about it and had come up with all sorts of justifications for their continued intimacy.

“Surely we wouldn’t feel drawn to each other as strongly as we do if it wasn’t meant to be,” Mascha had argued. And in the heated moment Kell hadn’t been able or willing to come up with a counter argument. But now their time was up. Not they but the Universe determined who Kell would spend his life with. As the future leader of his people he had to submit to the vagaries of faith and accept whoever his chosen partner might be.

The silence felt oppressive when Kell followed his mother to the rock throne in the centre of the village green. The hood pulled over his head prevented Kell from seeing anything unless it was straight ahead of him. He knew Mascha was somewhere in the crowd, he could feel his lover’s presence but he knew better than to look. If Mascha wasn’t his chosen one, their past relationship, if revealed, would mean death to the man Kell loved.

Kell sat down on the hard surface of the throne and send a silent plea up to the stars. One by one every villager between the age of seventeen and twenty-five walked to the throne, stopped, waited and moved on again. Forty-five years had passed since the last time this ceremony took place and Kell’s mothers had found each other and few remembered what the moment of revelation looked like.

They were nearing the end of the line and Kell wondered what would happen if nobody was chosen. Would he then be allowed to pick for himself? Kell lowered his gaze as hope blossomed in his chest and grew and grew, until it didn’t feel like hope anymore but something he’d never felt before. He’d never known you could feel life rushing through your veins but he did. A throbbing he’d only ever felt in his balls just before ejaculating buzzed through his whole body. 

Kell was vaguely aware of the exited gasps around him before he looked up and saw himself reflected in the deep green and very familiar eyes staring at him. He saw the reflection of the sparkling stars surrounding his face and could have wept. The choice had been made, Kell’s position in the Universe confirmed and he’d embrace his future with open arms...as soon as he’d finished embracing his chosen mate, Mascha.

****

610 words

As always more pictures inspired by the same image can be found in the Monday Flash Fics group on Facebook. And talking about the group, why don’t you join us? Either to suggest images or to write a flash of your own when a picture inspires you. We’re an easy going bunch, not too strict when it comes to word counts (after all, this flash of mine was over by 110 words J) and we don’t expect anybody to join in every week.

Monday Flash Fics: Oops

Oops

I’m not quite sure how it came to this. I mean, it’s not as if I’m in the habit of tying people up, putting them in the boot of my car and driving them to an isolated location. It’s not something I’ve ever done before, and I sincerely hope I’ll never have to do it again. But, things being what they are, it is the precise situation I find myself in. Driving through town, I make very sure not to exceed the speed limit because the last thing I need right now is for the police to pull me over. I mean, how do you explain a tied up man in the part of your car usually reserved for the spare tyre and luggage?

Oops.I probably should have slowed down a bit before taking that speed bump.The sounds coming from the boot make me flinch before I remember this is how it’s meant to be. After all, he asked for it, didn’t he?

I don’t slow down for the second bump in the road either as I think back to the sequence of events that put me in this position. Everything would have been fine if he could just have let it rest, but he had to keep on and on and on; pestering me without respite. I tried being reasonable and held on to my patience for as long as I could. And then, because I’m no saint,he pushed me too far.

I waited for him in a corner of the garage, invisible to him when he walked in, while I could see him clearly in the light flowing in through the open door behind him. By the time he realized what was happening, I had the rope around him, his arms tightly secured against his torso, before taking care of his legs. He was heavier than I expected him to be and it occurred to me that I should have allowed him to get closer to the car before tying him up, but by then it was too late. I could hardly untie him and ask him to walk to the car for me, now could I?

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the dirt track off to the right. The potholes littering the road make me bounce up and down in my seat and I try to imagine what it must be like for him. For a moment remorse assails me before I let it go again. This is nobody’s fault but his. I have nothing to feel guilty about; nothing at all.

I pull over and stare through the windscreen for a few moments. This is the moment of truth and I’m suddenly afraid of what I might find when I step out of the car.

I open the boot and stare down at the man blinking up at me. Blindfolding him had been considered but rejected. Just as I hadn’t bothered to gag him.

“Does that answer your question?”

His smile touches something deep inside of me, as it always does.

“Yes. Thank you. Now I know exactly how to write that scene.”

****

523 words

This story was inspired by a picture as shared in the Monday Flash Fics Group on Facebook. On the page you'll find more shorts based on the same photo and you could always join us and maybe write a story of your own next week. It really is a case of the more the merrier and everybody is welcome.

The Frustrating Distance Between Us

I’m a big fan of the internet and will forever be grateful for the people I’ve met and continue to meet and the friendships I’ve formed and continue to form. Through Twitter and Facebook I’ve met the most amazing people, expanded my horizons, and found support beyond anything I could have hoped for. But – you knew this was coming, didn’t you – there are days when a friendship ‘only’ being virtual gets extremely frustrating.

Without naming issues or identifying those dealing with them – because my friends know who they are and theirs are not my stories to share – I have to say that it breaks my heart that I can’t physically be in their presence. While I’m not much of a hugger at the best of times, all my instincts scream at me to wrap them in my arms and hold them close. Having thousands of miles between me and those I want to comfort leaves me feeling helpless and frustrated.

What I can do to show my love and support all too often feels like not enough, a sad and insufficient substitute for what I want to be able to give. Sometimes words are not enough, inadequate, or too much. Some situations require more than clichés and empty, be it heartfelt, words.  All I want is to be present, hold my friends’ hands and pass the tissues when required. A direct message on Facebook, while better than nothing, does not allow me to give the level of comfort I want to provide.

I realize this post is rather self-indulgent. While it is very frustrating that I can’t physically stand by my friends while they go through very though times, my issue is trivial compared what they are actually facing. I wanted to say it anyway because it has been hitting me very hard over the past few weeks, and because I want those friends to know that while I may not always have the right words at the right moment, they’re forever in my heart and on my mind.