Posts Tagged ‘trifecta writing challenge’

I’ve been neglecting my blog for far too long. So it’s Trifecta time once again! This week’s prompt was “ass”. How could I skip that?

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Ford was an ass and Bree would have told him so if it wasn’t for the gun pointed at her head. But she thought it. A lot.

Dumb-ass.

She glared at Ford standing beside her with his hands up. He was still grinning like the world amused him.

Asshole.

‘No one’ll be there,’ he’d said. ‘Quick in and out,’ he’d said.

She could kill him.

“Nice night, ain’t it?” Ford asked, unconcerned. As if he were looking into the barrel of a toy gun instead of the real thing.

Jackass.

His eyes flicked to the side. He nodded at the posted sign, the one he’d been chuckling over while he lit the damn cigarette a few minutes ago. “Geez, I didn’t realize this was a nonsmoking area,” he said. One raised hand pointed at the cigarette dangling from his lip. “Mind if I put this out? I swear I won’t try nothing, officer sir. I’m a law abiding citizen an’ all.” Ford smiled that big eyed picture day smile of his, the one that made him look like a golden haired angel.

“Don’t move.” The cop pivoted, eyeing him with automatic suspicion. Smart guy.

“Only be a sec.” Ford slipped the cigarette from his mouth, pinching it like he meant to flick it away from him. Instead he sent it flying into the cop’s face and followed it up with a punch so fast Bree almost missed it entirely. The cop dropped to a knee.

“Ya see that?” Ford asked with a high laugh. “Damn I’m good.”

“Good and careless,” Bree said. She kicked the struggling cop in the head and grabbed Ford’s hand. “Now let’s go.”

They ran through the maze of shipping containers hand in hand, Ford still laughing like a hyena. After a minute, Bree finally smiled too. Her hand cupped the bulging pocket of her coat. They got it. Now they just had to keep it safe.

It’s Trifecta time again! This week’s challenge was a 33 word entry that included a color. Here’s mine:

The setting sun painted cobalt shadows beneath the oak trees. The first stars appeared on the horizon as the village took to their beds. Somewhere a wolf howled. And then there was nothing.

This week’s Trifecta prompt was to explain our writing process in three words. And here are mine:

Swearing. Flailing. Repeat.

 

I think this is my shortest post ever. XD

You knew it was only a matter of time. I wrote a Trifecta post with Taisce and Sef. I even made use of every single one of my allotted 333 words this time. Be impressed. This week’s prompt was the word crude:

3: marked by the primitive, gross, or elemental or by uncultivated simplicity or vulgarity

When the last guest had departed and the house was once again quiet, Taisce found Sef sitting on his bed paring slivers of plum with his knife. Fingertips stained pink with its juice. His legs and still booted feet stretched over the coverlet raising wrinkles like waves. Taisce shot them a thin frown but Sef only smiled.

“All done then, milord?” He popped another morsel of fruit into his mouth and smiled.

“It would have gone faster had you helped.”

“I don’t think you care for my variety of helping.”

“No. I don’t generally.”

“Then you have your answer.” Sef raised an eyebrow. “Come. Sit. If you ask nicely I’ll even feed you.”

“You’ll get sticky juice everywhere,” Taisce complained.

It was only after Sef began to laugh that Taisce realized how his words might be taken. His cheeks flamed as pink as the tender flesh of the plum. “Don’t be crude.”

“Twas you that said it, not me, milord. But I’d be happy to oblige in any case. Sit.”

Taisce shot him another warning glare before settling beside him on the bed. It was a rare moment of peace.

He watched Sef turn the fruit against the blade, the movement delicate and precise. When he was done he held up the piece to Taisce.

Taisce scowled.

“Open,” Sef said. “It’s sweet.” As if to prove it his sticky thumb dragged along Taisce’s lower lip, leaving a trail of sweet. His mouth followed a moment later, replacing one flavor with another. The fruit. The tang of wine. Sef’s knuckles dragged along Taisce’s cheek, down to his jaw.

Taisce stopped him there. He wrapped his own hand around Sef’s stained one. “I missed you.”

Sef drew back in mock surprise. “Such honesty from you, milord. Perhaps I should reward it.” He dropped another kiss on his lips. “What is it you would like?”

“Silence,” Taisce said with an answering warmth. Then he wrapped an arm around Sef.

Not another word was spoken that night.

Ha ha, I punned. I’m sorry.

Okay I’m not sorry.

Anyway, this week’s Trifecta prompt was the word rusty, third definition which goes a little something like this:

3a : of the color rust  

b : dulled in color or appearance by age and use <rusty old boots>

And without further ado here’s my entry:

Darkness.

The tang of copper.

Shane sat up with a metallic jangle and a groan of protesting muscle. The air smelled of salt, the same salt that had reduced the walls of his cell to a rusty patchwork that longed to give him tetanus. He shot them a cautious glance but the walls stayed put. So he wasn’t set to be crushed to death. That gave him some hope for the future. The shackles around his wrists and ankles were less comforting. They showed no signs of the wear that his cell did. Their bright silver winked at him mockingly.

What had he done to deserve this?

Then he smiled.

Oh. Yeah. That.

People were awfully touchy about assassination attempts it seemed.

This weekend’s Trifecta challenge was a complete story in 3 sentences. I think I succeeded. Mostly. *nervous*

Seems like a strange color for a murder weapon but the dead guy certainly didn’t stab himself with the pink handled chef’s knife. The cops follow the trail of blood to the bathroom where his wife is still washing her hands.

“Well that settles that,” she says.

This weekend’s Trifecta challenge was to write a 33 word confession. So here’s mine:

My bad handwriting is one part design and one part accident. It used to be neater. Then I realized people could read over my shoulder. I write sex scenes in public you know.