Category: Flash

Flash: Dismount

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature

Charlotte gave old Rowan his head and together they chased the wind back to the homestead. Eight years at University, but she had a sheepskin on the wall declaring her a veterinarian. Still, far too long wrapped up in concrete and metal. She was a dirt, wind, and rain girl.

Breathing hard, the horse and rider team pulled up to the barn. CB, the foreman, had been watching their solo race and came over. Charlotte inspected him from high on the horse while he approached. He was a fine piece of man; years of ranch work defined every muscle and carved sun-wrinkles into his chiseled face. Pushing thirty-five to her twenty-seven, he had been a fixture at Double Bar T since her teen years. He hadn’t been around when she returned earlier in the week.

“Branding all done cowboy?”  Her broad smile welcomed his company.

“Yep,” CB patted Rowan’s neck, holding the old stallion steady while his boss’ daughter dismounted onto the fence. “Got a good calfing this year out on the edges. About half again last year.”

“That should help pay off some of my loans.”

One of the hands ran over and took the reins, walking the horse to cool it off. Freed, CB came over to where Charlotte sat. He craned his head slightly to watch her, a rare instance of looking up at her. “It’s my understanding, miss, you didn’t need no loans because of your scholarship and all.”

Charlotte took off her Stetson and swatted him on the shoulder. “Don’t contradict a lady. Have you learned nothing?”

A deep chuckle rumbled out of CB. “When I meet a lady, Miss Charlotte, I promise I won’t argue with her none.” He gripped her by the hips..

“Why you insolent…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off. Her hands initially steadying herself on his broad, strong shoulders clenched deep into firm muscles as CB pulled her closer. She had been expecting the typical lift and set down as they continued to banter.

Instead he first lifted her high, bringing her hips directly in contact with his chest. Holding her dead weight at an awkward angle, in a manner no city boy could ever hope to no matter how much gym time he had, CB then drew her down the length of his body effortlessly.  She felt every bump, muscle, and sinew as their bodies slid against each other.  Her nipples hardened and pushed against her plaid cotton shirt. His lips brushed them like a cloud’s touch tightening them further, begging to be sucked through the old fabric. He pressed her hips firmly against a significant bump just past his belt buckle and then her feet were on solid ground.

Fortunately CB did not let go immediately, as her ability to stand steady had been destroyed. She swayed into him, remembering for a moment her seduction using soap and water. She had initiated a physical relationship with him between her freshman and sophomore year. Every summer until she started the practice labs during the doctoral program, Charlotte had managed to wiggle her way back into his bed. Three years had put enough distance that she remembered the affair fondly, forgetting the fire they ignited in each other.

“Hey you, what do you think you are doing?” A new voice yelled across the corral.

Charlotte jumped guiltily away from CB. The huffing man, in new dark blue jeans and Western shirt still sporting its packing creases, closed the distance quickly. CB raised an eyebrow towards Charlotte.

“Justin, I don’t think you have met our foreman, CB McCarty. He was helping me down from the fence. CB, may I introduce you to Justin Emmet, my fiancé?” Charlotte bit her lip, her brown eyes clouded with worry.

(words 623 – first published 12/14/2013; republished in new blog format 6/3/2018)

Flash: The Castle of Gold and Silver

Erin Penn

Photo by phaendin from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The Castle of Gold and Silver awaited their triumphant return, shiny brightly in the dark night under the magic lights of the King’s Wizards and the Queen’s Witches across the brick bridge raised by manpower and the Mason’s secret craft. Unfortunately, the return wasn’t triumphant, the young prince and his band hesitated at the edge of the forest, four arrow flights from the display of wealth and power. Luis was never meant to be heir, just a throw-away duke under his two other brothers care, not the one to bring back the bodies.

With night well underway, but the road smooth, he had pushed his men, those few left, the final steps until they could see home. Now the fourteen-year old froze on his mount, the one his men insisted he use while they walked. Francisco, the oldest, cagiest of the five left, had practically lifted the prince and tied him to the seat himself, after many, many threats.

“Home,” whispered Pablo with soul-tired tones they all talked with, aged beyond his sixteen years, a knight by Luis’ hand after he saved Inaki’s body from desecration; Luis hoped his father would approve raising Inaki’s squire. Pablo’s arm had been so mangled by the action, the surgeon removed it, back when they had a surgeon.

“Si.” Francisco agreed, where he held the burro pulling the wagon of their dead.

Leonor cleared his throat. “Do we go forward my liege, or wait until dawn when the gates raise?”

“Wanting to rush back to your wife’s arms?” Miguel teased.

“If you were married to one such as my Sofia, you would be running across that bridge after nineteen months apart.”

“And three days.” Miguel responded, keeping up the day count Leonor had started the moment they had stepped on the bridge to leave with their army-escort for three princes and their two squires and one cranky witch who didn’t like being away from home, off to secure a treaty with the duplicitous Pinedos and the cursed Montana kingdom they ruled.

“I could set up the tent, my liege,” offered Henrietta, the only camp follower who didn’t desert them.

The tent covered the bodies with during the day. Luis hadn’t stomached living under it since they made it inside the Prado nation’s boarders, but he knew this close to home, his loyal band would feel the need to give their prince full honors. Luis shook the fear and pushed back the failure consuming him. “No, tonight we bed inside well-protected gates where we need not set guards.” Glancing at Leonor, who had been teaching him flowery speech, Luis relaxed seeing a nod of approval.

Francisco snorted, but commented, “Well said,” relaxing the knot churning in the young man’s stomach.

The prince gently kneed the horse, bit, bridle, and saddle long lost, only a contraption of leather strips providing a stirrup keeping him seated. He and Dunlap had come to an agreement long ago, once it was clear someone had to ride the horse or the mare would pull the wagon. The brown shaggy creature plodded one foot in front of the other toward the bright lights of promise.

(Words 520; First Published 5/27/2018)

Flash: External Dialog

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of podpad at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Every day I wonder, wonder.

Every day I go about my business, going crazy and stuff. Why do you ask?

Why are you crazy?

I really don’t want to be.

But you are. Crazy that is, right?

If you say that I am.

I’m in your mirror, so I pretty sure you are.

But everyone talks to themselves.

But not everyone hears the answer.

I don’t want to be crazy.

Then don’t be.

It isn’t that simple.

Why not?

Because …

Don’t roll your eyes and shrug at me.

This. This, exactly!

Not an explanation Original Man.

I can’t even.

Or odd. Try again.

*

Come on.

i.i.don’t.want.

Want what.

To be alone anymore.

Great song.

Not helpful.

Sorry. … But it is a great song.

We’re done here.

Okay – see you tomorrow! Oh, and brush your teeth.

(finger)

Back at you!

(Words 142 – first published 5/20/2018)

Flash: Kissing Extra Long (Prelude)

Erin Penn

Abigail watched Justin Rider kiss Cynthia Gold. Each embrace was deeper and longer, the couple reluctantly breaking apart before being drawn together again. The whole scene was perfect. Lighting spotlighted the couple, and hid Abby in the crowd. Vicariously Abby lived the embrace, feeling Justin press her against his svelte frame, his hands warming the small of her back. She suppressed a sigh.

“Cut,” yelled the second director, “and that is a wrap folks.” The couple stayed kissing a little longer, Cynthia grasping Justin’s coat label to maintain contact.

Ignoring the lingering affection between his stars now the movie was in the can, the director, Luke Benson, grabbed the mike from the second director and added, “First, I like to thank all you extras for your work. Detroit has been awesome to work with.”

Luke climbed on one of the chairs, making his tall frame visible to everyone on the closed street doubling as a set. “Second, don’t forget to turn in your vouchers. You will be getting an invite to the wrap party. Finally, I want to see you all at the wrap party tomorrow night. We couldn’t have pulled this off without you – now go home and sleep.”

Taking one last look at her Hollywood crush, Abigail was startled to see Justin staring at her. She had talked to him one day when sleet had delayed shooting. He had been awesome, going around and visiting all of the extras. Having worked several movies, Abby knew most stars avoid this. Just too many people to get to know everyone all the time; they had to save pieces of themselves. They gave so much away all the time.

Justin had talked to her about her knitting and she had given him the cat hat she had been working on. She couldn’t believe it when she had seen the kitten ears poking off his head on days when he was on set, but not in makeup yet. The movie was been shot in late fall, to take advantage of the long nights, and Detroit was cold. She was glad she had given him something he could use. She waved happily at him and his dimples flashed back. He picked up her hat from the back of his chair, waved it a second, and tucked it on his head.

 (words 387 – originally appearing at Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 2/24/2013 (original photo copyright unknown), republished new blog format 5/13/2018)

Flash: Following Orders

Erin Penn

http://budireve.deviantart.com/art/Keris-Fire-Sword-312072387
Copyright unknown, but a button on the website was provided to facilitate the download.
I am providing the link above to give credit as best as I am able.

Strewn with blood and bone, the celestial battlefield had no dead bodies for only the immortal angels fought. Feathers and skin burned as fiery swords melted through exhausted defenses. The raqia below formed and turned for untold eons only noticed by the opposing armies as a down direction. A few angels had fallen towards the new planet when wings had been clipped, but mended long before hitting ground and the beings immediately returned to the ranging maelstrom.

In the conflict’s center stood proud Lucifer, an angel who questioned his purpose and demanded free will. His army formed a protective sphere around their assigned general. Michael, Uriah, Gabriel and Raphael were unable to drive their undying legions through the blockade to the heavenly traitor.

The swirl of battle broke combatants apart and reunited others. Beyond the immediate strife, Kamella protected a pathway. The Supreme Being had plucked her out of Michael’s soldiers. She was pleased to stand guard while the Supreme Being crafted a new plane of existence. Firstly, being chosen was an honor. Secondly, defending the way removed her from the possibility of crossing blades with Herne. For untold eternities they had delighted each other. Assigned to different archangels, no restriction was placed on their relationship. Now that blessing turned into a curse.

Only a few of Lucifer’s rebels escaped the four armies surrounding them. Kamella dispatched the depleted minions quickly. Skilled in war as few angels were before Lucifer’s ego selfishly consumed him, her great stature allowed her to stand easily against two or three angels by herself. The midnight winged creature wielded two fire swords and two shields, leaving two of her six hands free for grappling.

Outside the primary engagement, she watched and worried. Somehow Lucifer was slowly gaining and the outer defense sphere leaked. More and more opposition tried to investigate the road she defended. None passed over the threshold.

A spike attack broke combatants free from the center. Dozens of multi-hued beings were funneled to her post and the broad paved avenue beyond. Several had form-changed into ferocious visages. At their front was a golden haired angel who remained in the form he had been shaped to hold. His black eyes flashed in his perfect face. In his left hand was a blue-flamed sword. His right hand curled in a half-formed charm. Herne, the love of her existence and one of Lucifer’s best scout captains, closed on her position.

Not wanting to see what her clever male was about to release, Kamella completed the three-in-one spell she kept at ready for an organized mass attack. Two clones flew out to meet the new arrivals; black avenging angels plunging into the fray against the servants of the Angel of Light. Flame and steel clashed with renewed fury. Herne’s charm failed when one of his companions severed wing fell on him.

Without hesitation Kamella attacked Herne when he came to rest relative to her. His scouting group’s armor and battle skills wavered under her other selves’ fury. Blinking back tears, she effortlessly blocked his attack with one uplifted shield and drove her right sword into his hip. She whispered, “I’m sorry,” as he fell to his knees.

Her regret did not keep her from using her left side shield to throw Chase’s attack out of line. Grabbing Herne’s closest friend and second-in-command with her two free limbs, she lifted him with a grunt and threw him at an incoming monstrosity. Her own huge size made dodging difficult but the collusion displaced the flyer enough to miss her and sail past the nexus she guarded.

Herne tried to use the diversion to roll past her. She kicked his burning side with her booted foot.

“Please don’t make me do this.” She begged.

Grabbing her boot to topple her, Herne replied. “We must serve as we were created, my heart.”

Her red tipped wings caressed his face as they pushed him closer to her legs. She used his recentered mass to increase her personal balance. Her black and his white feathers mingled in a parody of embrace.

She needed to concentrate on eliminating his squad. With regret, she drove a sword through his leg to prevent him from sneaking past. His scream pierced her.

Turning her face to where her last duplicate fought, Kamella’s blue eyes widened as she watched the sphere surrounding Lucifer explode out with the force of a nova. Angels boiled towards her in the hundreds.

Bracing herself forward against the wind of beating wings, she fell at the sudden pressure change on her back. She burned her hand grabbing the sword she pinned Herne with to prevent him further injury. She used the fiery steel to pivot and landed hard on her side beside him, pulling the sword lose. Her large wings protected them both as the Supreme Being’s presence passed over them, returning to the celestial arena.

*ENOUGH! THOU WILT HOLD*

Even Lucifer’s minions froze at the command. For too long the Being they been created to worship had been absent. Everywhere swords lowered and the choir started offering adoration.

Herne’s limited two arms devoted themselves entirely to encircling her waist, hugging her closer during the moment’s peace. Without thinking Kamella’s chin rubbed the blond’s hair in affection.

Muffled by their wings, the coupled barely heard Lucifer resonant voice rallying against his Liege.

Kamella grasped the white angel’s face with two hands. Just before she captured her favorite lips, Herne whispered, “I will love you forever.” Covered by angel wings, the two kissed.

*A PLACE HAS BEEN PREPARED FOR YOUR RULE. MAY YOU LEARN HOW TO DO SO.  NOW GET THEE AND YOUR LEGIONS HENCE.*

Rolling onto her back before her greater weight crushed him, Kamella howled as Herne was torn from her arms with one final Word from the Supreme Being to Lucifer.

*BEGONE*

Grabbing with her half dozen hands, she tried to capture him before he was exiled from her plane of existence. Her enormous strength allowed her to succeed. Tapping the ability to change shape, she transformed her feet into claws to anchor herself to the firmament. Blue eyes met black in fear and desperation. Created as mirrors to each other, they had only tolerated the rebellion knowing when it was over they would be reunited. His legs were being tugged into the whirlwind siphoning Lucifer and his followers. Her arms bulged as she tried to save him.

“No!” she cried.

In the end, the Word of the Supreme Being determined the outcome. Even their immortal flesh could not deny the instruction. Herne twisted and turned as the whirlwind worked to free him from her grasp. Both wrists holding him back shattered as she tried to absorb the worst of the torque to save him pain. Bones burst through skin, covering her arms and hands with slippery blood. Before her other hands could grasp his forearms, Herne was snatched away.

Kamella collapsed in anguish as Herne’s face disappeared screaming down the path she had guarded for so long.

Others returned to their appropriate levels in heaven. Locking her agony away, Kamella picked up her swords with her quickly healing hands and returned to her post. The Supreme Being had not changed her orders.

None shall pass over the threshold without permission.

Facing towards Lucifer’s realm, Kamella’s long watch started. The black she searched for scouts foreshadowing the Fallen’s next attack only reminded her of eyes she would never see again.

(words 1,239 – originally published 4/3/2013 – published in new blog format 5/6/2018)