WRiTE CLUB 2012 – Round 5

It’s always a pleasure to start off a new round by congratulating the winner of a previous one. Today I’d like to welcome Jason Andrews into the play-off circle for his victory in Round 2.  His opponent, Katie R, will have her piece returned to the pool for a chance at re-selection for a future bout, and as always writers who have battled once are welcome to submit a different piece if they so wish.

I wanted to take the opportunity to apologize to everyone for not answering emails in a timely fashion or my lack of presence in the blogosphere recently. Getting WRiTE CLUB off the ground, then responding to the over whelming participation by expanding to three posts a week, combined with a couple of days away from home have really put me off my game.  Oh yeah…I’m also hot and heavy into writing my latest novel, but I do feel bad that I haven’t stopped by as much as I’d like. You know I’m good for it…right? I’ll get into a rhythm and be back on your doorstep very soon. Promise! J   

The competition has been fierce (but in a respectful way) and today is no exception. What do you say we get to it?

Here are this week's randomly selected WRiTER's.

Standing in the far corner, weighing in at 500 words, please welcome to the ring……..Tipa

 

It’s nearing the deeper part of the night as the sun breaks past the horizon to find comfort in securing its rays beneath the darkness. The sign above the coffee shop iss no longer reflecting and the liquor store lights only share a lit ‘Open’. Jimi walks out of the liquor store after grabbing matches from the counter. He walks to the car, unlocks the door and drops the matches in his bottom right cargo short pocket. He picks up his phone, scrolls down his contacts, and taps the name Trevor. The phone rings a few times before the answering machine responds to which Jimi ends the call. He looks down in his glove compartment and double checks his pockets making sure that he hasn’t left any items behind. He secures himself than tries calling his friend again. The cell phone rings twice before a clicking on the line and, “Yo, what’s up?” Jimi throws an umpire’s out fist with joy.

“Alright, I’ve got the goods, where will you be? I’m heading to the festival now.”

“Sure, I have a vendor set up inside the tent area so I’ll meet you behind the stage of the live band.”

“Alright, see you in a bit.” Jimi hangs up and inputs the directions to the festival. It will take him about fifteen minutes to reach the festival from his location. He starts the engine, pulls the stick to drive, clicks his signal as he turns left out of the parking space and makes an immediate right towards the festival. Jimi is driving ten miles per hour over the speed limit in residential area Long Beach California. He comes to a four way STOP. He looks to his left to see a cop car pulling up to the stop sign, there is no incoming traffic from the right, and he continues straight ahead with no traffic. Jimi slows down his pace recognizing the darkness is getting to him as his eye sight is barely piercing to view the roads. He continues driving down another road before reaching a full stop but another vehicle is nearing behind him as he drives past the STOP sign. The vehicle closes on Jimi’s car from behind to reach him by the next STOP light. Jimi is annoyed by the glare in his rear view and angles it away from him as he grumbles about the truck being lifted – the causation of the lights directly hitting his eyes. He continued following the GPS telling him to go a few more blocks before turning right onto the main street that would lead him to the festival. Jimi could see better in front of him as he believed his eyes were adjusting to the darkness. The main street was a block ahead of him and Jimi decided to return the rear view to its original position. He blinked his eyes a couple of times before realizing the truck was still behind him then next to him to say, “Your lights are off.”

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And in the other corner, weighing in with a brand new 458 word sample, let me re-introduce to you ……..Sissy Grimm

Twigs snapped underfoot, and the pale light of the moon dimmed as the branches overhead grew thicker. 

“I can’t believe they ran out of food,” Gretchen complained.     

“They were hardly out of food,” Hans replied. “They just didn’t have any more of what you liked.”

 

“Pepper knows I swore off carbs years ago, and did you taste that pâté?  It was completely inedible. I’m glad she’s so smitten with her new huntsman boyfriend and all, but venison-wurst? Gag me with a harpsichord.”

 

“Be nice,” Hans admonished as he reluctantly followed his fiancé deeper into the woods.

 

She turned and smirked, giving him a sidelong glance and lifting her long skirt to expose a teasing ankle. “Oh, I plan to be.” She turned and skipped ahead, disappearing behind two fat tree trunks.   

 

Hans paused and barely stifled his groan.  Six months ago, such flirtation would’ve elicited a completely different kind of groan. But six months ago he’d barely known her. Back then she’d simply been the pretty daughter of a wealthy financier—the ticket to saving his father’s business. He’d truly believed it would be easy enough to fall in love with her, but as the months ticked by he realized that no amount of wavy blond hair nor evenings spent with her plump lips applying just the right amount of pressure to his various pleasure points could make up for the rotting carcass of a soul that resided underneath all that beauty.

 

He wasn’t going to be able to go through with it, not all the way to the wedding.  But he could play along with the engagement. Before the church bells started ringing, however, the financial documents would be signed, his father’s business would be saved, and he could break off the relationship quietly, tastefully, finally.  Until then…

 

“Gretchen, stop!  We’re going to lose our way if you go any further.  We really should get back.”

 

She peeked out from behind a tree several yards ahead. “Didn’t you drop any breadcrumbs?”  Her long, lean arm emerged from behind her back, and she flourished a pair of white, lacy panties before dropping them to the forest floor. “Guess we’ll just have to think of something else to leave behind.”

 

She dashed off again, further into the forest, and Hans clenched his fists, tempted to turn around and leave her to be the victim of her own folly.  But then he thought of his father—his kind, gentle father who’d already lost so much—and took long strides into the forest.

 

He found her leaning against a tree, waiting for him. A silvery beam of light broke miraculously through the leafy branches to illuminate her comely form and cast an enticing glow upon the curve of her ample bosom. Even Hans, jaded against her as he was, couldn’t help but sigh at the vision.  He reflected that his lot wasn’t the worst that could befall a man and didn’t resist when she reached out and pulled him to her.

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Please leave your vote for the winner of round 5, along with any sort of critique you would like to offer, in the comments below (but remember you must be registered on the Linky List here first).  Please tell everyone you know to drop by and be part of the fun.  The voting for Round 5 will remain open until noon next Thursday (8/23).  

Remember, here in WRiTE CLUB, it’s not about the last man/woman standing, it’s about who knocks the audience out!  Want to take part in the word battles, throw your pen name into the hat anytime during the first twelve rounds by submitting your own 500 word sample.  Check out the rules by clicking on the badge below…then come out swinging!

PS. L. Diane Wolfe at Spunk On A Stick is holding a Supportive Blogger Extraordinaire Contest! in which I nominated the phenomenal Alex J. Cavanaugh. After you're finished here why don't you drop by and cast a vote for your favorite. :)