TBP Mash-Up

  1. He claims to be a writer
  2. Naked in the rain
  3. And then, the very next day


Morgan sat in the sun and tried to remember what had happened. He knew what had happened but he wasn’t sure why or how it had happened.

He knew that he had finally convinced that chick, Alisha, from the library to go out with him. He had lied through his teeth and claimed to be a writer and she had finally agreed. He told her that he was going to take her sailing and the very next day he had been awoken by someone pounding on his front door. It was Alisha.

She wore a sun visor, a bikini top, shorts, and deck shoes. She carried a picnic basket in her hand. She looked great; lean, long legged, and tanned. Just the way he liked ‘em.

“Are you still asleep?” she asked.”I thought we were going sailing. I brought lunch. Let’s go. Maybe we can do some writing while we’re on the boat. I brought a pad and some paper too. I think it’s best if we get an early start. Don’t you prefer an early start?”

“I was kinda thinking we would go on the weekend,” he said, “but what the hell, give me a minute.” He invited her inside and she stood in the entry as he walked down the hall. “Hey, go on into the kitchen and help yourself to a cup of coffee.” He pointed vaguely toward the back of the house and moved quickly down the hallway.

When he came back she was still standing in the entry, waiting and looking around. He thought that was a bit odd but wasn’t about to let it stop him from spending time with her.

“OK then,” he said, “let’s go.” They got in his car and rode to the harbor. Alisha didn’t talk much but she seemed excited about spending a day on the water.

Everything was going great till she decided it was time to open the picnic lunch. She had a big bottle of Grapefruit soda that she poured into glasses. She had some of those cheesy crackers (you know the ones, the little square ones that come in a red box) and she had sandwiches. The crust had been trimmed off and they were cut on the diagonal.

Alisha had arranged the sandwiches on a platter and was telling him about them, “These are sardine sandwiches with mustard and alfalpha sprouts. These over here are pimento loaf with hot dog relish and over here on the other side of the plate are peanut butter and pickle with mayonnaise. They’re my favourite.”

“Pickles? With peanut butter? Seriously?”  Morgan asked.

Alisha stopped and raised her eyes to look at him, “are you making fun of me?” she asked.

“Well, maybe. I mean, peanut butter and pickles? Mayonnaise? That’s pretty ‘out there’ don’t you think?”

She raised her fists and hissed loudly at him. Then she pounced. When he came to she was nowhere to be seen. She must have swum for shore. He figured that the boat was beyond salvage. Hopefully someone would come by soon to rescue him.

Photo Courtesy of The Blog Propellant


Daily Prompt · writing

Daily Prompt; Abandoned

Daily Prompt; Abandoned

Alisha started first grade when she was 14 years old. She barely spoke. She was a feral child.

That first day of school her keepers had brought her late to MacArthur Elementary. They walked her down the wide hallway with the polished linoleum floors to room 3, Miss Emig’s homeroom class. Twenty-eight other first graders sat primly in their chairs. The other children wore clean, pressed clothes. They all had hair that was clean and brushed. Their hands were folded atop their desks when the door opened and the keepers brought Alisha in.

She was a contrast.

She wore a white cotton shift and no shoes. Her blonde hair stuck out at odd angles from her head and she had a streak of dirt from her chin, across her right cheek where it disappeared under her hairline. She hung back at the door.

“Oh, here she is,” announced Miss Emig to the class. “Children, this is Alisha and she’ll be joining our class. Alisha is special. She is older than the rest of you and has not had the same advantages. She lives at the research laboratory on Promontory Road and these men are her keepers. They will accompany her wherever she goes here at MacArthur.”

Stan Barret raised his hand and when Miss Emig acknowledged him he asked, “what happened to her? Where are her parents?”

“The researchers are not completely sure but they believe she was raised in the desert by wild animals of one sort or another. Two years ago she was abandoned by that animal foster family on the steps of the laboratory…

“They brought her back, as it were.”

Alisha’s eyes had been moving around the classroom constantly. She was studying the children, studying Miss Emig and the books, desks, papers and chalkboard. Miss Emig approached her tentatively.

“Perhaps you can introduce yourself to the class, Alisha.” She urged.

Alisha looked up at her keepers who through a series of arm and hand motions combined with really slow speech managed to communicate the request to the wild girl.

She nodded her head and took a single step forward. Slapping herself on the chest with an open hand she shouted, “LISHA!”

Judy Baldwin, on the second row laughed and soon the other kids did too. Alisha responded in the only way she knew how. She raised her fists and hissed loudly at the classroom. Then she pounced on Judy Baldwin.