The Green Green Grass

His demeanor changed. Suddenly, he was happy, and relaxed. The ride was beyond the hustle and bustle state of hours past; now it was slow and bump-free. The air smelt better and better with even revolution of the tires that carried him along.

The tires stopped spinning. He sighed as he stepped out of the car. He was home.

Leader of the pack

The power is almost intoxicating. No one dare moves until instructed as such. His tool, long, pointed, slashes through the air, creating and destroying at will. His ‘gang’ follows his every lead, inspiring fear, sadness, whichever emotion they see fit. No one is safe.

He arrives.

Everyone goes quiet. Anxiety builds…

The conductor raises his baton. The orchestra gets ready…

In the midst

There was chaos around him, but...... he just strummed on his guitar. His vocals were mediocre at best. One doubted if he even knew what it meant to be in key. His lessons were experience, his key was life. His contentment was harmony enough. He couldn't hear the shots or see the fires raging. He simply sang while he played.

Unease

He sat in the back. Others shuffled by. He made room and smiled timidly at them. He hated making eye contact. The whole affair made him uneasy. Why did he have to be here? Other people avoided coming, why couldn't he?

"You're next my son."

He sighed and began...

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned my last confession was......"

Execution

He looked with a scowl on his face. This was the second time that he failed to execute the plan. He would not get many opportunities. He knew this and it made his past failures that much more annoying. Was his hesitation fear? He could do this.

Wait ..... opportunity..... This time he had to. No more hesitation.
Swat!!!

*@#%ing roach!

Great Sex!

The sex was... wonderful! More satisfying than they ever imagined.

The woman dropped back into the bed as her man hovered over her. They were exhausted. He wasn't sure how she was, because through it all she groaned more than she moaned. But now, she was beaming.

The sex was just how they wanted it- female. They had their daughter.

Plans gone awry...almost

The beer bellied drunkards. Flashing neon signs, dry stale peanuts, smoke in the air, swearing and cursing. The car breaking down on the way to their favourite restaurant. Stranded cold and wet in a run down bar on their anniversary. None of that mattered, except seeing her boyfriend through teary eyes down on one knee.

His plans wouldn’t be spoiled.

Night Shift

He studied for 10 hours, never once breaking. Afterwards, he went to work. He toiled all day, hammer to nail, drill to concrete, sweat to eyes, cuts and bruises along the way. Nobody there worked as hard as he did.

He woke up at 11 AM. It was all a dream. For the rest of the day, he did nothing.

burning desire

She needed him, more that ever.

She called out his name, ran her fingers through his hair, and arched her back for better access, pulling him toward her. He moved closer, pulled back the skin, and blew gently from his lips, causing her to shudder. He slowly placed his finger in the wet, sensitive area and finally removed the eyelash.

zzzzz

The dance between the alarm and the snooze button begins. The ‘ring’ and ‘slap’ continue until finally…

‘mmm…’

Body rolls over; eyes squeeze tight with a yawn, then slowly open and focus…

‘Oh CRAP!!!! Is THAT the time!!??’

---

‘Ladies and gentlemen, due to technical difficulties, we apologize for the delay of Air Jamaica flight number 56, non-stop to Kingston, Jamaica...'

He hears the call constantly now, he knows he shouldn’t answer, but it gets harder each day. He fights, but without conviction any more. “How Bad Can it be?” he asks, but he knows the answer.
“Time to go” says his coworker, taking him from his private struggle. Reluctantly he leaves the lunchroom. Day three survived, barely.

Tough day at work

Pencil through the eye. Or neck. Either would be fatal. Unfortunately still not comparable to the many times he penetrated her daughter, without her consent. It would be so easy, the straight jacket would ensure that. A life for a life.

But she must be professional. The court requires it.

She begins the evaluation. “So, tell me about your childhood…”

Tied

She felt the rush of water over her head.
The weight around her ankle pulled her under; She could not escape.
"Help!" she screamed silently. Her lungs burnt for oxygen.
Water filled her mouth and nostrils as life left her body.
She woke covered in sweat. Feeling the new band on her
finger, she looked over at her sleeping husband.

Final Moments

They were told the final words. Both turned red. They weren't told to kneel, but neither could help it. The end was here. A group stood around them, staring down at them, ready to react. Neither could hold back the tears, it was a frightening moment.

The priest nudged the man, the man grinned uncontrollably, and finally kissed his bride.

Till death do us part

Everyone else had gone. She stood alone by the side looking down at him. He had left her too. She remembered and hugged her belly and fell to her knees. Two had become one but she was not ready so it had to go. So three became two, and then .... she had nothing. No record that they had been one.

Honeysun

The calm and peace of early morning, the smell and sound of rain hitting the window, the fresh glow of a new day. They awake to the feel of each other’s lips, he weightlessly on top, wedding bands glistening on their embracing fingers. They smile at each other and gently resume their last action, realizing they had fallen asleep… kissing.

Fact or Fiction?

Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He was cared for by busy parents who were always in the limelight. He didn't have the guidance he needed to develop in intellect. He was a stupid child. Despite his hair colour, he was as close to 'dumb blonde' as one could get.

When he got older, he became President.

The lighthouse

"Sigh. Mahoney, look at him!" said George.

"Yep, without fail. You could set your watch by him" replied Mahoney.

"You think he'll ever give up? Are they still alive?"

"Maybe, maybe not! All I know I could never hold on so long."

"He just stares out..... all night ..... Anyway, see you in the morning. I'm going home to my family."

Wrong number, wrong time wrong place

*RRRRIIIIINNGGG* The phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Yes sah, this is the fishernam hailing you."
Who?
"Fisherman? You sure you have the right number?"
"Yeah man, I hear seh is you can deal with the cocaine ting for me."
"Boss you have the wrong number."
*Click*
The line goes dead. Two days later, the owner goes dead. Line terminated.

Tragic true story

They had been out, anxiously awaiting their arrival home. It was mom’s turn to drive. Dad: exhausted. Boys: strapped in, sleeping.

The road was shiny with ice. She didn’t notice. They slid out of control on her first turn. In a matter of minutes, their family of four reduced to the two who started it. The driver: hospitalised. Husband grieving.

De-lifted

It was just the two of us. She looked gorgeous, as always. I was smitten.

We stood closely together. The lift stopped. The doors opened. At that moment she faced me for the first time.

"Why not while the doors were closed?" I asked myself.

I prayed that she'd speak to me. She did.

"You're on my toe", she said.

Stalked

She could sense him. Every step took her closer home; took him closer to her. She turned corners and bolted. She lost him; escaped another attempt to steal her innocence. She would think of something else tomorrow.

She finally arrived home. He was there… waiting. He pounced on her. A shot fired. He fell. Her brother stood shaking, afraid, relieved.

one night stand

Eyes met. Floor crossed. Names told. Small talk. Drinks bought. Lips warm. He liked. She liked. Party left. His place. Clothes ripped. Tongues tangled. Hands moving. Flesh bitten. Soft moan. Loud moan. Bodies rocking. Bed shaking. Heavy breathing. Blade gleaming. Knife plunged. Sheets red. He struggled. She fought. Gun shot. More blood. He killed. She killed. They died. Bad date.

Pan in 60

Dear writers,

The rules for writing a post are simple. The blog is called 'Pan in 60', and thus, all stories should be 60 words in length. It may be a bit difficult to come up with ideas at first, so take a quick read of the book if it will help. And have fun! My 60 words are up.