Hello all, it has been a couple of weeks since I have last written the blog hop, or any other sort of blog. It’s been very busy around my household. My son started preschool and we are transitioning into two days a week. Hopefully I will be able to get some good writing done during his two and a half hours away. Note: must stay away from cleaning, writing is much more important that a clean house!
Since my full length novel is being edited, I feel like there is a void. I know I need to write something, but nothing has flowed out. I’ve written down some ideas and I know where I need to go, but nothing happens. I’m on the edge of a precipice and I can feel the story there, but it stays just beyond my reach.
I will have to work at sitting down with my fingertips poised on my keyboard and wait until I have some words out, even if it is just 100 words. I would be happy with that, and it would be better than nothing. Maybe a location change will help, even though it is loud, a coffee shop always helps me to get some creative juices flowing.
While I’ve been on a break, I entered a flash fiction challenge. This is where they assign you a genre, location and object and you have to incorporate that into your story. My assignment was Comedy, A photo studio and a slice of cheese. I received the topic the first evening and I wrote until almost midnight! It’s interesting what a deadline does for you. I won’t hear back until mid September but I will share with you my flash fiction:
The Photo Shoot
I’m naked.
Well, half naked with trickles of sweat dripping down my back. The only thing covering me is a cloth across my midsection. Why isn’t the air conditioning on, it’s July for goodness sakes.
Stars appear before my eyes as I blink from the flashbulb in the Wicked Photography Studio. Looking around at the red velvet couch and bear skinned rug beneath me, it was more like someone’s cheesy sex fantasy. Cue the seventy’s porn music.
Why am I here? Oh yes, that’s right, I’m trying to spice up my love life.
Apparently, we are lacking in that area as I discovered last night while playing a naughty card game with friends. After many glasses of wine and slices of specialty cheeses my wife and I found out we are utterly boring in the sack.
The question asked was: ‘How many sexual positions can you name?’ While our friends ticked off one after the other, we could only come up with three. How did that happen? In our younger years, I could name the amount of times and ways we satisfied each other. Now we’ve only come up with three, how sad is that? My wife’s stricken expression had struck me to the core when we’d lost and I knew I had to do something.
So here I am half kneeling on a couch trying not to pee myself from laughing and doing poses like George friggin’ Costanza, but without the socks. Straight arms, chest out and a tight clenching of my butt. However, I refuse to growl like a tiger.
“Can you move your leg up? I want to capture as much quad as possible,” stated Anne.
I heaved a sigh. “I’m draped in a cloth, I think you can see enough of my leg.”
“I’m just trying to get the most out of these photographs. You came to me, sir.”
“You can call me Dan. Are we going to move to a different angle soon? I’m starting to get a cramp.”
The photographer brushed the hair away from her face. “We can take a break if you like. There is some water, crackers and cheese slices over on the table. I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”
I wrapped the cloth tightly around my stomach and strode over to the table in the corner.
“Damn cheese,” I muttered remembering the night before. I shoved the crackers in my mouth and slugged some water. I shouldn’t eat too much, before you know it I’ll have dad bod and my hard earned six pack would end up looking more like a keg.
Casey had pulled me aside last night and suggested this place. He told me it had helped him at one point. The name of the studio alone made you think dirty thoughts. What other clientele did Wicked have? With the velvet chairs and furry rugs, I stifled the urge to snicker yet again. I could do this. If I didn’t I would forever be known as Dan the Missionary Man.
“Are you ready to continue?”
Anne’s voice sliced through my ruminations.
“Of course, let’s finish this.”
“I’ve had many men in here before, but you don’t seem to be the desperate type.”
“Well according to my three sexual positions, I’ve been deemed boring.”
Anne threw back her head and laughed. “Maybe your three are the best your wife has ever had. Did you ever think of that?”
I sat back on the couch, contemplating. Tamara had never complained, at least not to my face. Her girlfriends were another matter, hell they could be sipping cosmos and martinis right now gossiping about their husband’s shortcomings. Shaking my head, I tried to think sexual thoughts by reciting the lyrics to Let’s Get It On and flexed my muscles.
“Let’s resume. Loosen the cloth and lay across the couch with one leg down and one up. Drape your arm across the leg that’s up,” said Anne.
I followed her directions and showed my pearly whites. At least I wasn’t on all fours.
*****
The keys jingled in the lock as I opened the door. A rush of cool air greeted me.
Tamara was sitting on the couch with a book resting on her legs in the exact same position I had mine in an hour earlier.
“Hello, love. How was your day?” asked Tamara.
If I spoke I knew I would burst out in gales of laughter. Instead I stumbled over my shoes and wordlessly handed her the yellow padded envelope. My heart thumped against my chest and silence wrapped around me as she slowly tore the yellow paper.
The pictures spilled out in front of her on the table.
The corner of her mouth twitched and suddenly Tamara erupted in hysterical tears. “Oh, my love,” she laughed even harder. “What did you do?”
“Well we needed something to spice up our love life.” I replied as my cheeks grew hot.
She brushed her lips across mine. “I love what we have. Who cares what anyone else thinks. You’re no slouch in the bedroom. Plus, Casey and Beth made all that up. They do it once a month with the lights off.”
“But Casey said…” I stuttered. “They knew so many more than we did.”
“Just because they read the Kama Sutra, doesn’t mean they do it all.”
She pulled a picture out of the stack. “Is this from Seinfeld? Where’s your snarl?” Tamara snorted.
I tried to suppress a snicker. “Now that was one arrangement I didn’t want to do, but the photographer urged me to do so.”
“Let me change your opinion, come to the bedroom and show me your claws.”
“How about the couch,” I replied with mirth as the steady beat of bow chicca wow, wow played throughout my head.
The rest of the pictures fell to the floor as she pulled me onto the soft, worn blue sofa. Well what do you know, maybe the George Costanza pose is sexy after all.
Well I hope you’ve enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. Talk soon!
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