The words over at Three Word Wednesday at enemy, shatter and vague. Let’s try for a Drabble, 100 words and out. And no firearms for Miss Peachy-Plums. Sheesh.
Spurned
She was a cold dish, distant, back-ally frigid.
Her heart, yeah, her heart glowed.
Mist clung to her hair, dripped off scarred earlobes as vague thoughts, redemption, cluttered her resolve. She brought her brown eyes into focus, re-channeled the rage, chilled.
Breathe.
Lives shatter for less.
Pick up the pieces.
Get even.
He wasn’t just the enemy. He was everything she’d grown to hate. The rehab. The looks at the puckered skin, the hasty stitched grafts.
She was a cold dish. Learned all she needed efficiently, wrote nothing down. Flash pots, simple switches.
He’d burn.
He wouldn’t die.
Backatcha, bastard.
The Tradition I Welcome by Keith Foskett
1 hour ago
13 comments:
would a bitter cold dish be taking it a bit to far?????
revenge is a dish best served cold...
I’m so glad you post every day! A vital part of living is checking The Tension each morning, and I’m sure I'm not alone. Soooo, I guess you’ve got us where you want us with your high def graphix ;-)
Today’s special: from Mist clung all the way to cluttered her resolve :-)
thanks for not marrying me off. you may now resume your use of heavy artillery. :)
Back-alley frigid - like it!
some fine phrases in this darkish yet lively drabble...
served cold, and with a side order of crow.
well presented thoughts :)
Love the repetition of "She was a cold dish". It shows the biting scars are very deep. Great tensions in this!
sha has to be a cold dish to hold such resentment.
Happy 3WW!
I like this one! My kind of character!
Love this image: "Mist clung to her hair, dripped off scarred earlobes as vague thoughts."
A whole novel in a hundred words!
I like the opposition between your 'cold dish' and her enemy who would 'burn'.
i think the title sez it all... backatcha bastard... funny, hilarious...
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