12 February 2014

Writing prompt 33

Omg! I just realized I'm going to be posting the 35th writing prompt the day after my 35th birthday! =*D

*Commence playing of Twilight Zone theme* (Not to be confused with the Twilight theme. Totally different thing.) 

I will have to think up something extra special to commemorate the occasion. No pressure, though.

This week's writing prompt comes from my friend and developmental editor, Diane Gilman. It was something she said during a phone conversation, and I thought it would make a great prompt, so I stole it. With her permission, of course.

The last time you kissed your ass goodbye...

My (admittedly messy, but hey! it's a freewrite!) response

The last time you kissed your ass goodbye you waved to the Mädchen and blew your mom a kiss and rode off into the white sunset wearing your finest diamond tiara. It was all such a damned cliche we thought at least your death would be cliche too we never suspected for a moment - your lips touched the blue star on her wide flat forehead and she looked into your eyes and her gaze pierced your soul and showed you the absolute truth and you trembled violently your hand shook as you waved goodbye to the Mädchen and blew your mom a kiss the look in your eyes an infectious haunting that spread quickly to the rest of the villagers despite our resolute refusal to ever look into the eyes of your ass, Mädchen. It's not even dark yet on the same eve and already news of your death has reached us. Never would've figured that as soon as you crested the little shrub-covered hill and dipped down the other side you'd fall into a bear trap lined with poison-tipped spears. We don't even have bears around here, which made the news all the more surprising, and we can't for the life of us figure out who would've done such a thing except your father but people travel that road every week and your father's been dead for decades, put to rest by your kind mother's own hand whilst he lay snoozing in a drunken stupor and we all pitched in to butcher the body and make the feast of his flesh we hadn't eaten so well in centuries: cracklin', meat pies, bbq, steaks, ground meat that tasted a bit like buffalo, but my favorite, my absolute favorite, were the eyes, slightly crispy on the outside, firm on the inside. They were delicious. Gave me indigestion, though, and I never have been able to walk a straight line since.


  1. The last time you kissed your ass goodbye you said for sure that it would be the last time, but here you are, damn it, here you are lying in his shirt, sweat layering your forehead, smiling like a fool. Maybe it’s you who’s the ass. I don’t know, but it was pretty good. No, no, no, no, no, no, it was not good, it was the opposite of good, it was bad, very, very bad. He’s going to wake up and then what? Hang on, what was that? The door has just gone. I’ll see who it is. I creep across his floor and peek around the door. Shit. I am going to die. I kissed him, I said goodbye, I came back and now karma is coming to kiss my ass goodbye. She has a gun, why does she have a gun? We live in England for crying out loud, what the Hell is going on? Shit. What do I do? I run across to the ass and I kiss his lips lightly. This will be the last time, it has to be, literally. I run back to the door, she has crazy eyes and she wants blood, our blood, no, his blood. Maybe if I’d have stuck around I would have wanted him dead. I guess I’ll get my wish then, my future wish that is. So I suppose I should thank her. Maybe later. I run to the window and push it open. Shit. He’s on the top floor. What now? I close my eyes and crawl out, my bare ass in the air, praying that there is no one with a camera phone waiting down there. Hanging onto the ledge of the window I hear her come into the bedroom. Shit.

  2. The last time you kissed your ass goodbye you were on the back of his Harley with the wind in your hair and the bugs making you choke. I stood there, watching as you jumped on Rex's hog. You barely turned around to wave. It was a quick hand flick ever. I just stood there watching. You had said your goodbyes the night before. It had been the last night we were going to see each other. You were in my arms, naked and wrapped in tangles of sheets.

    My mind raced, thinking what was it that made you leave...

    I hated you in that moment. You, who had to leave and leave me for the asshole Rex. I hated you so much. I had wished you dead the next morning, after I found your letter with your red lipstick kissed into the paper.

    When I made it the crossroads, I had just enough time to call out your name and see you barely wave back. I cursed you at that moment. Did you know that?