I have been searching around to buy dining room chairs. Yes, how glamorous is my life? I am sure you can compete with something equally as exciting. Anyway, I saw this absolutely fabulous set of chairs that would be perfect. Problem? They are bloody expensive. I keep visiting them every day willing the price to go down. The sales assistant in the shop just nods and smiles at me as I visit the chairs. I have bargained her down as far as she will go. Will I get the chairs? I’d like to. I feel after visiting them so much they have become accustomed to me and will probably feel bad if I do not follow this infatuation through to a commitment. To be honest, I rarely use the dining room for dining. I use it for writing. If anyone comes over they know they will not be eating at the table. They accept that as one of the rules of Chez Amarinda. So why do I want new dining chairs? I just do. Will anyone sit in them? Hmmm…probably not. So what’s the point? I want them. The women in my family have a saying – “What Lola wants, Lola gets.” None of us are called Lola and maybe it’s a strange saying but we like it.
I won’t speak of work or I will swear and I am trying to retain the illusion that I am a delicate, sweet lady who wouldn’t say shit for a shilling. I did wander off at lunchtime and score a bargain though so the day wasn't a complete loss. After visiting my chairs, I came across someone selling top name perfume for cheap prices. Instantly suspicious, I checked it out and realized it was the fair dinkum stuff (real, true). I bought 4 bottles of Red Door – love it. Did it come off the back of a truck? Possibly. But again, Lola got what she wanted so what the hell. I am hardly about to be the Queen of all that's good and moral.
Why do I have a picture of George Clooney on the blog today? Does there have to be a reason to look at a sunset, appreciate a glass of wine or smile at a handsome, charming man? It’s a ‘because I can’ moment. You know, I am not a great believer in being attracted to anyone just because of superficial reasons. There has to be more. I suspect George has heaps of good qualities so in this instance I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt.
On www.kkirch.blogspot.com – Kelly left us with….
What makes you think I have it?"
"The stupid smirk on your face for one. And the fact that your reality TV entourage has a lot of reflective surfaces which show what you're holding behind your back."
"Curses!" he roared, flinging the peeler before him like a baton in a marching band.
"Give me the peeler, now, and I won't have to use Matilda's Vow on you." She laughed manically at his fierce shudder of dread
As usual I am not going down the path well trod…
Before she had a chance to put her threat into practice, a gigantic foot descended on Zoltan, crushing him into the dirt at Emmeline’s feet.
“Holy crap!” She exclaimed as she looked at the giant purple toenails before her. Emmeline tilted her head back to get a look at the owner of the foot. “Who the hell are you?” A thirty-foot woman with wild blue hair towered over her.
“I just saved your life, shorty.”
Emmeline snorted. If only it was that simple. “He’s not dead you know, Zoltan is immortal.”
“When I stand on a man they don’t get up again.” She lifted her foot to show the flattened Zoltan beneath.
Emmeline looked at him. Yep he was dead all right. There was no way he was going to be hauling his arse after her through dimensions. “Bastard!”
“Zoltan told me I would die if he died.”
The woman shook her head in disgust. “Typical man – it’s all about them.”
“So who the hell are you?”
“I am the legendary Merle.”
“Yeah? If you’re so legendary how come I have never heard of you?”
“Cynical bitch.” Merle spat in contempt.
“Big footed cow.” Emmeline stood defiantly with her hand on her hips.
“I could kill you for that but I won’t.” The woman leered at her. “I have been given the task of taking you to Yum Cha.”
Emmeline stiffened in horror. Yum Cha was knife throwing Tibetan anarchist who had vowed to kill her for saving the life of high Chieftain. “I’m not going.”
“It’s not optional, short arse.”
What plans does Yum Cha have for our girl Emmeline? Tune in same time tomorrow on www.annycook.blogspot.com to see where Anny takes us.
Force of Nature – Robin Leigh Miller
Markey Nevell was born with the unique gift of manipulating the air. A gift she would gladly give up for the chance at a normal life. Anger management is a concept Markey lives with every day. When her anger grows out of control her gift takes over, inflicting the source with the wrath of hell and the force of a tornado. Unable to control or understand how it works, she drifts around the country hoping to disappear in the crowd.
Trip Lindaur has his own gift, the ability to seek out and find those people trying to hide from the world. When he is hired to find the remarkable Markey, he assumes it will be just another job. He never counted on falling for her beauty and wit, or her charming innocence. After delivering her to the doctor that hired him, Trip’s world spirals out of control. He discovers he’s delivered Markey into the hands of a mad scientist that plans on dissecting her for his own twisted gain.
Saving her life is just part of the battle ahead. Will she forgive his betrayal, or will she once again disappear into the world?
“What are you?” Denise asked peeking through the crack of the opened door.
“What do you mean what am I? I’m Markey Neville, your friend.”
“No. I saw you in that alley. You aren’t human. You were glowing, your eyes were like fire. My God you threw those men around like they were rag dolls. No human can do what you did. “
“Denise please, you’re confused.” If she could just convince Denise that she’d imagined the whole thing, that the trauma of the night had caused her to embellish what had really happened, then everything would fine.
“Don’t you try that psychology crap with me, I know what I saw. Now leave me and Sandy alone. We don’t ever want to see you again.” Denise kicked at Markey’s foot removing it from between the door and wall. “Freak,” she mumbled before slamming the door.
Tears streamed down Markey’s face as she left Denise’s apartment building. Freak, it always came down to that one word. It had to be the most hurtful word in the English dictionary. Nonetheless, it wasn’t the first time she heard it and it wouldn’t be the last.
Markey returned home to find her small house that she rented covered in smashed eggs with the word “freak” spray-painted in huge black letters across the front. The sound of hushed whispers came from behind her as the neighborhood gathered across the street to stare. Lying on the ground in front of her door was a newspaper with a large black and white picture of her. Over it read, “Is this woman a phenomenon?”
She stepped over it and unlocked her sticky, slimy door and proceeded inside. She knew what she had to do and without any hesitation she began packing. By the end of the day she had called her boss and quit, packed all important items and loaded her car. When nightfall came she slipped behind the wheel and began her search for her new home.