Fiction Friday - Lovely Villain

Tam poured tea for herself and her guest, into two delicate china cups. The tea had all been laid out on the sideboard, and when Rayna arrived, Tam prepared the cups and brought the tray over to the table. "I'm terribly sorry about the miscommunication." Her gentle smile led credibility to her soft-spoken words as she stirred her own tea. Rayna smoothed her hands on her legs and watched Tam lean back, the lovely cup in one hand and its matching saucer in the other. "You see, the word came that Teegan was out, so of course, he's..." Tam's eyes flickered down to her knees and back up. "... done." A stern look came into Tam's beautiful eyes as she gave the final word on Teegan.

Rayna picked up her cup and saucer and stirred with a tiny spoon. This was how it went with Tam. Tea, beauty, and polite conversation. Conflict caged in propriety. "But nobody cleared that with me." Rayna made her protest in a matching gentle tone. Teegan was part of Rayna's team. She should have been consulted, but what was done was done. One didn't raise one's voice to Tam. 

Tam shrugged an apology. "Again, Mr. - ahem - informed my office directly." She sipped delicately at her tea cup. "You may, of course, take your concerns to him if you wish." It was a safe bet no one would ever attempt that. The only way up was through Tam. Only Tam knew that she was the end of the line. She always said she was taking orders... usually over a cup of hibiscus tea, always with a smile, always in a sweet, calm voice.

Rayna sighed and sipped her tea.

"Can you cover the lost personnel?" Tam inquired, her eyebrows arched over her cup.

Rayna set her cup down, rubbing her brow with one thumb and forefinger. Contradicting Tam would be career suicide. She was a sweet, lovely woman, and she was just following orders. Rayna was in a tricky situation. "Ugh... I mean..."

"Please, think carefully, as we share our tea. Don't answer in haste." She raised her cup in a silent toast, sipped, and added, "I'd hate to lose you, too."

Rayna forced a smile and mirrored the toast. Her mind raced. She sipped in sync with Tam. Could she adjust things? Sip. Was she due for Teegan's fate if she couldn't? Sip. The room felt warm. She opened the top button of her blouse. Sip. Her eyes blurred - what was the problem she was trying to solve? She stared blankly at the flowers in a vase behind Tam. Tam. "Um, I'm sorry -" Her own voice sounded miles away. "What was the question?" Her mind pushed out the slurred words while crawling through a web of conflicting thoughts.

"I think you know, dear."

In minutes, Rayna collapsed in the over-stuffed chair, her cup of poisoned tea spilling onto the floor. Tam gave a "Tch" sound and moved to press a napkin over the spill. "That will stain." She rang a small bell for one of the men to come take care of Rayna. There was work to be done, and she needed her space in proper order.

It's FICTION FRIDAY!

Every Almost every Friday I write a new flash fiction piece. If you have a writing prompt you'd like to see turned into a story, just leave it in a comment. Today's story came from a random phrase ("Lovely Villain") that a friend threw out in conversation a couple nights ago.

Tuesday Twist!

So, you know we started an English center. Recently parents have been pulling their kids out of classes. We heard that some parents were concerned that their kids' grades weren't going up. ...Which makes no sense because our classes started on June 8th, so there have been no school grades to compare, and we only recently got to the point of doing the first tests/assessments within our own curriculum.

(Personally, I think those parents are trying to make an excuse so they don't have to tell their dear friend - our local business partner - that they don't want to pay for classes.)

Anyway, we listen. We want to address parental concerns. So we decided to offer "Homework Help" once a week. A non-class period of time when kids can come in to the school and get assistance with their English homework from a native English speaker - myself and my husband Brett. This is a trial for this month, to gauge interest.

Honestly, because I think the parents are making up this complaint, I thought "Homework Help" would not be popular. But at least we could say we offer it!

Twist!

Sunday was our first "Homework Help" time. One kid was there before we even arrived. Another came shortly thereafter.

Then a MOB of kids (eleven, to be exact) came in the doors. WHAT!?!

Oops - another twist! It turned out these were some of our students whose parents wanted them to take an assessment test to see whether they could be moved up to a higher level. (It was poorly scheduled by front office staff. The students should have been at staggered times.)

So I stayed with the two Homework kids and Brett did the testing. Then one more girl came for Homework Help, but she hadn't brought her book or notebook or anything. I think she had been asked to come in by one of our staff, just to show interest. 

All told, there were four kids at Homework Help on our first day. That's four more than we expected. And two are loosely connected with staff members, so I'm guessing there were only two students who genuinely wanted help.

I hope we helped them. It was kind of chaotic and loosey-goosey. I'll be interested to see what happens next week.

Maybe I should gently suggest that our staff do NOT feed us students. Kids who have legitimate issues are not getting the help they could if our time is split between them and these forced kids. Am I wrong? What would you do?

Fiction Friday - An Imperfect World

In a perfect world, Maya wouldn't be here. In a perfect world, she wouldn't have to be. It didn't look familiar, but this was definitely the address from the envelope.  She passed through the revolving door with her arms hugged tight around her. In the swanky hotel lobby Maya pulled down the visor of her ball-cap. No way. This couldn't be right.

More steps, trying to get out of the way of people coming and going. Her eyes searched. For what? For whom?

Seeing a uniformed waiter heading her way, she ducked behind a wide pillar, only to crash into the ashtray stand behind it, knocking them both into a clanking, clattering, dusty pile on the polished marble floor.

A trio of hotel staff materialized in an instant. So much for keeping a low profile.

"Are you all right, Miss?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she answered, keeping her head down.

One man uniformed as domestic staff had already righted the ash tray and was working to sweep up the mess. The one speaking reached down a hand to help Maya up. Once she was vertical, he offered a small clothes-brush for her to dust herself off.

The third man, with the most impressive uniform, supervised. As Maya returned the clothes brush with a grateful smile, she heard a sharp intake of breath from the supervisor.

He lifted her cap off her head. "No. Maya? My Maya?" 

It wasn't how she had wanted to meet her father.

It's FICTION FRIDAY!

Every Almost every Friday I write a new flash fiction piece. If you have a writing prompt you'd like to see turned into a story, just leave it in a comment. Today's story came from a 15 minute fiction sprint during the writing group I attend most Mondays.

Tuesday Typeset - Book Report Two

A week ago I finished reading an older book that I'd never heard of:

Things Fall Apart, by Chinua Achebe

When I bought my Kindle, it came preloaded with a bunch of books, and this was one of them. I knew nothing about it. During brunch one day, I made a short list of short books that were on my Kindle, that I could read quickly to help meet my Goodreads reading goal for 2022. At just a little over 200 pages, this was one of them. 

Only today, as I did a search for the cover art, did I learn that it was published in 1958!

It's timeless, because it takes place prior to and during the colonization of Africa. That's as specific as it gets. We know it's in Africa, but not where in Africa. We know that it was a long time ago because of old traditions, lack of technology, and lack of global influence in the characters' lives during the first half of the book.

I don't want to say too much, because I highly recommend reading it. It's banned in some places, or at least it was banned. It's a short, easy read, with a rich story. Especially if you appreciate other cultures. If you don't like reading about lands foreign to you, maybe you wouldn't like it.

That's all I'm willing to say because I don't want to give anything away. To me, it was a fascinating look at a time and place I could never imagine.

 

Fiction Friday - The Door Opened

The squeal of the hinge awakened Diyetta in a snap. In the darkness the door opened, scraping across the hard floor as it did. A smell of rust flaking off the unseen hinges reached her. The room stayed black. The darkness had been palpable before, and instead of light streaming in through the door, it seemed that the darkness blackened. The only thing streaming in was a waft of dusty, stale, ancient air that gave solidity to the air and filled Diyetta's mind.

She could taste it. The dust of the past - rotting bones, withered tree roots, death - swirled around Diyetta, now snaking into her nose, her mouth, her lungs. The hard, cold surface beneath her gave no comfort. Stone cold. A mausoleum. More death.

Her death?

Diyetta was choking on the smothering darkness. Her mind swam with images of long-dead relatives. She coughed. A sputtering, dry cough. Her lungs were leaden, not releasing any of the poison air inside. 

After the creaking hinge, all fell silent. How had the door opened?

"Hello?" she managed to choke out. Her voice sounded foreign. Echoes bouncing off the walls tore at her ears and reached through her core to squeeze her heart.

Heart racing, lungs gasping, eyes blinded by the dark, Diyetta did the only thing she could think of. She crawled toward the door. Whatever was on the other side must be better. 

As one crawling under the smoke layer of a burning house, she hoped staying low would keep the rotting texture of the air out of her nose. With each inhale, she pulled her t-shirt over her nose and mouth, an extra measure to avoid contamination. 

Diyetta felt the edge of the open door and moved around it toward her freedom. Or so she thought. Crawling on, slowed by stopping to cover her nose at each breath, she felt the frame of the door jamb. Diyetta used all her strength to move her face and head across that unseen boundary, only to die on the doorstep. 

No t-shirt in all the world could have prevented death from invading her lungs and taking her life. 

It's FICTION FRIDAY!

Every Almost every Friday I write a new flash fiction piece. If you have a writing prompt you'd like to see turned into a story, just leave it in a comment. Today's story came from the prompt "The Door Opens" in a writing group I attend most Mondays.

Tuesday Tirade - TV Tastes

There's a new Game of Thrones show out, which means there's a new crop of "I'm proud to say I've never watched ..." social media posts. 

I've seen posts of this nature for GOT,

for Tiger King,

for the Kardashians,

and other shows I can't think of off the top of my head.

It seems like a weird kind of snobbery. Who cares what you don't watch? Sometimes people go online and ask for recommendations of new shows or movies to watch, but I have never seen anyone ask what they shouldn't watch. (Unless they're asking ironically, to bait the trolls.)

It's probably just a sign of the times. Or a sign of the division inherent with a lot of social media. No discussion can follow a blatant "you are a moron for watching this" post. In real life, if I happened to say something about GOT to someone who hadn't watched it, they might very calmly say, "Oh, I haven't seen it." I don't know. It's never happened yet. It's all on social media.

During Covid, Tiger King was all the rage. Popular opinion is that the boredom of lockdowns had a lot to do with its popularity. Brett watched it. Which means it was often on in the same room with me. I watched the first couple episodes, and decided it wasn't my cup of tea. Still, I'd sit down while it was on sometimes. Why all the rage against a TV show? Or against people finding entertainment in true-crime drama? (Because that's what it is.)

I hadn't intended to watch Game of Thrones, either. I knew it was based on an unfinished series of books. (and honestly, the books are really fat and the covers looked boring.) One day a few years ago, Brett and I were talking about what to watch that night, and I said, "I feel like watching something with dragons," to which he said, "Hey! I'm pretty sure that Game of Thrones show has dragons in it!" So we started the series and liked it well enough to keep going.

I am a snob in my own right, but generally I keep it to myself. In my life I have considered myself a coffee snob, a beer snob, and yes, a movie snob.

But I'm older and wiser now. What you think is good coffee is fine, just please don't make me drink it! 

I still feel that I'm a beer snob, but I drink a lot of cheap Asian beer anyway. 

I've married someone with very different taste in movies than I prefer, and he is a bit snobby about it, as I am. (sorry Brett) BUT we make it work and we respect each other and can have a civilized discussion about our very different tastes.

So basically, with age I've learned the wisdom that everyone is different, and as long as they aren't hurting people, their choices are their own. What someone watches doesn't hurt you, so stop being a snob about it!

Tuesday Tardiness (Wednesday)

Yes, yes, I missed yesterday. I'm missing a lot of days, but that's okay.

I wanted to follow up from last week, since I expressed a lot of mixed emotions about my recent interactions with our new neighbor.

We had coffee together, out at a coffee shop, just the two of us. As I expected, it went well. I learned about her life, her past, found out a bit more about her situation, and just had a pleasant time. She is a devoted mother, going through a divorce, and working from home. 

She did not spend the time on her cell phone, as she did when she came to our house. However, after about a half hour or so of talking, she pulled the phone out to show me a picture of something, and soon I was immersed in picture after picture of her kids. Just the little ones. Who I know already.

Now, I like her kids. They are sweet girls. But I'm not, in general, a "kid person". They are fine. But I know what her kids look like. In this case - two little girls under the age of three - they haven't changed a lot. Most of the pictures looked the same to me, but we saw picture after picture after picture. 

She really loves her kids. It's sweet, how happily she will spend 20 minutes just flipping through the pictures. Kind of how - back in the day - old people would pull out photo albums and tell their grandkids all about each and every photo.

Anyway, we saw her again out in the street by our house the other night, and I've invited her to a wellness event I like to go to. We're still friends, and boundaries have been established. I think all is well.

Now excuse me, I have to go lie down. I've been way too social in these last couple weeks, so I'm always exhausted.