These three drabbles have been written for OLWG#167
Ines closed her eyes and endured. She stared at Robert’s ceiling and wished she was on top. It’s always better to be in complete control. She longed for the signal from her compagni.
Robert was vulgar. He smelled of sweat, stale wine, and urine, his back was covered with coarse, dark hair. He proudly displayed a giro vita sporgente dalla bella vita.
She had spied her weapon immediately upon entering his room. The cord to his reading lamp would do nicely; she had killed many men with a garrotte, and she knew that this would not be the last time.
In a small Midwestern town lives an old woman, Ines, and her grown son, ‘Berto. They keep to themselves, for the most part; homebodies, who don’t socialize.
One day in mid-October, Ines answers the door to find her new neighbour on the stoop. The sun glinted through the blue glass of the sidelight casting Ines in a Swiss Topaz hue.
“Yes?” Ines said; her accent was faint.
“HI, my name is Elaine Caldwell. My husband, Paul and I just moved in next door. I thought I would introduce myself.”
“Nice to meet you, Elaine.” Ines replied. She shut the door.
‘Berto sat at the kitchen table watching Mama wipe down her knives. Mama had several knives that she kept rolled up in a heavy piece of Muslin hemmed in red thread; the roll she kept hidden beneath a loose floorboard at the top of the stairs. ‘Berto knew that Mama had been with the resistance during the war.
Still sometimes Mama took her knives and went out at night. The next day she would wipe them all down and return them to the Muslin wrap. When she thought he wasn’t watching Mama would hide them once again beneath the floor.
The prompts were:
- she stared at Robert’s ceiling and wished she was on top
- take care of your tools
- blue glass