Tea Time

Tea Time

I bring in the tray with a steaming teapot and two gold-rimmed cups. John throws me an amused looked. „Tea? Really?“ He’s happy to throw me out of my house. I’m just a joke to him.

„Courtesy. One last time. Before…“ I put down the tray on the coffee table. Tears sting in my eyes. I cannot force them back down.

„You brought it on yourself!“ He does not hide his annoyance. I nod and pour in the hot liquid into the cups. He takes a sip. „Mmm, good.“

I do not drink it, I just stare. „It’s monkshood.“


Meet Steve Garner, the rotten golden apple

A Chuck Wendig Prompt - create a character (about 250 words)
Hint: The man answering the phone is Steve Garner.

“`Llo?” The man answering the phone sounds drained. His crumpled voice seeps through the landline.

“Hi. I am Vincent.”

“So?” Drowsiness dissipates slowly, “nobody’s perfect.”

“You’re looking for me.”

“Am I?” A soft slapping noise in the distance, “enlighten me. Please.”

“Do you remember Mr. Stanculescu and his two daughters?” Vincent waits for a response. No recognition on the other end, so he continues, “you know, the strange girl with the red mane and green eyes, one missing upper incisor? Was all over the newspapers.” Nothing. “The one legged kid, who disappeared for three days?” Silence. “The cabin at Lake Eden?”

“Oh. Lake Eden! Of course!” The voice tightens, picks up momentum and rhythm. “I remember laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe, just imagine that. A one legged kid hopping around on the shore and the woods, like an oversized toad– ”

“I brought her back.” The amused chuckle fades into stunned silence.

“You? You– ” The man stutters in disbelief, “did that?” A sharp clacking sound echoes. Porcelain hitting porcelain, or maybe teeth hitting teeth. “How fast can you be here?Where can we meet?”

“You remember him now, huh? He says it’s important…”

“Yes, absolutely.” The breathed voice cracks. It is a bit too fast, for someone still needing to negotiate a fee. The man proceeds to attack. “May I invite you? No limits, just tell me what you need. A room, a flight, cars, booze, women… Men. You name it.”


I can’t stop myself from looking at him – snow white skin, hair, dark as chocolate, topaz eyes borrowed from a bird of prey, soft lips, bowed in a mischievous arch – vibrant memories, which won’t  let me sleep, won’t let me close my eyes. Even if I do, I’ll open them up, asap. Feeling his breath, his gaze peeled to whatever there is to be to be noticed in my face.

Even in the darkness of the room, drawn curtains, and the half moon shining… Even in the solid black mist his eyes seems to glow in that strange orange golden light. He seems to emit it, his faces, his mouthes, his shiny teeth… All screaming curiosity.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I´ve never seen someone fall asleep before.”

“What? Never? Why?”

“I never sleep. So I’m curious.”

“Suit yourself.” Indeed, I’m exhausted, and ´bout to fall asleep. “So you never sleep, hm? Do you – ever dream?” My lips move lazily. The bed sheets still hot and messed up. Feeling heavy on my skin.

“Yes. But mine are different from yours. I do not lose myself doing so.” His voice softens, moves closer somewhere near my left temple. “And when you’ll lose yourself, you’ll be empty – a living, breathing hollow shell. Just waiting.” His voice sounds now like a whisper, moves suddenly from my left to the right ear… Of course -forgot- two mouthes. Two tongues. Strangely, they sound the same.

Can’t open my eyes, sleep burns inside of them. It is a soft warm black, that keeps dripping, dissolving into my mind. “Mhm. What for?” Words drop out hazily, I just breathe them out.

“For me, to do as I please… Shhh, now. Go back to sleep…”

the cat

the cat


The day is slowly trickling off. The sun rests on the rooftop, its orange bleeds out, reaching over the sky. Beyond the edges of the buildings on the other street side. Trees nearby rustle, as the wind picks up.

A black cat sits on top of an old brick wall surrounding a garden. It can be easily confused with a statue in the dusk. If it isn’t for those flashing yellow eyes. Horse chestnut tree branches stretch over the mural’s top, slowly waving in the evening wind. They shade the most of the wall, even with the streetlight flickering on nearby.

Continue reading “the cat”



Okay! Don’t look now… but I just busted the lock on 388.

Yeah, yeah. Don’t be so shocked!

As if you never slipped! – With a bolt cutter. On a lock.

I mean, come on… We’re on the same side here, aren’t we? We’re havin’ a little fun! You ’n me… Little snoopin’ round, little snuffin’ out. It’s what I do for livin’. No, I’m a part-time jacker. I know it’s not so reputable, but I ain’t a reputable man. So don’t bother.

Continue reading “frequency”