I changed my mind (woman/prerogative) and decided to throw myself into Story-a-Day May with Marta, whose stories will be better, I assure you. This one proves it. As I'll be getting cut apart a little at the end of the month, I may miss the last few days, but c'est la vie!
The writing prompt for the day, which one need not adhere to, is a Drabble-- a hundred word story that focuses on a moment, a happening, between two characters or less.
And I blew it from the start, going over a hundred words without trying, and not wanting to abandon the intriguing Shan, who created the story around himself. It needs to be longer, longer than I've made it, and someday I'll re-visit the tale, but for now, here it is:
Baker Man
Evening air had cooled the kitchen, finally. Shan went through the room closing windows with a satisfied smile. His baking adventure had gone well and his wife would be thrilled, come morning, when presented with perfectly golden tarts topped with a fine, vanilla-scented crumble, bursting with plums. She loved unexpected tidbits, and he had cleared the house of hints; not the faintest whiff of baked fruit or buttery pastry remained to spoil her surprise. He could picture her face, mouth open, eyes wide and hunting for a motive, then her lips stained with the dark juices as she bit into the treat.
Fresh Plums were hard to find in spring, but Shan was a master at sourcing. He found sweet, melting strawberries in December, and the best oranges of the year in June. His skill at obtaining such treasures was part research, part charm-- when Shan tracked down a likely source, he schmoozed the point person mercilessly. Rolling his voice to a silken ripple, he’d flatter just subtly enough to make the person feel special and appreciated. It was a habit he'd picked up in the music industry, where artists and moneymen alike needed their egos salved regularly.
Now, house-husband to a wealthy businesswoman, he found ample use for his sales techniques; and the commission was quite a bit more interesting than mere cash. Their time together was pleasurable but erratic, and often brief. It wouldn’t be true to say that he loved his wife, but she did give him certain satisfactions, along with freedom to pursue his interests as widely as he chose, and unfettered funding of any and all dreams.
Almost an ideal life, he knew.
--------------------
© By Mari Kozlowski, May 1, 2013
The writing prompt for the day, which one need not adhere to, is a Drabble-- a hundred word story that focuses on a moment, a happening, between two characters or less.
And I blew it from the start, going over a hundred words without trying, and not wanting to abandon the intriguing Shan, who created the story around himself. It needs to be longer, longer than I've made it, and someday I'll re-visit the tale, but for now, here it is:
Baker Man
Evening air had cooled the kitchen, finally. Shan went through the room closing windows with a satisfied smile. His baking adventure had gone well and his wife would be thrilled, come morning, when presented with perfectly golden tarts topped with a fine, vanilla-scented crumble, bursting with plums. She loved unexpected tidbits, and he had cleared the house of hints; not the faintest whiff of baked fruit or buttery pastry remained to spoil her surprise. He could picture her face, mouth open, eyes wide and hunting for a motive, then her lips stained with the dark juices as she bit into the treat.
Fresh Plums were hard to find in spring, but Shan was a master at sourcing. He found sweet, melting strawberries in December, and the best oranges of the year in June. His skill at obtaining such treasures was part research, part charm-- when Shan tracked down a likely source, he schmoozed the point person mercilessly. Rolling his voice to a silken ripple, he’d flatter just subtly enough to make the person feel special and appreciated. It was a habit he'd picked up in the music industry, where artists and moneymen alike needed their egos salved regularly.
Now, house-husband to a wealthy businesswoman, he found ample use for his sales techniques; and the commission was quite a bit more interesting than mere cash. Their time together was pleasurable but erratic, and often brief. It wouldn’t be true to say that he loved his wife, but she did give him certain satisfactions, along with freedom to pursue his interests as widely as he chose, and unfettered funding of any and all dreams.
Almost an ideal life, he knew.
--------------------
© By Mari Kozlowski, May 1, 2013
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