I really wonder how you feel on these nights so alone

“if only you could see”

[hold a light to paradise]

Nov 4, 2021 || 9:45 AM || comment?

"It's getting late."

Violet looked at her watch for what felt like the tenth time. Of course, time hadn't progressed much since the nine other times she looked, but the later they stayed meant the more likely they'd be caught.

"Don't worry so much, Vi-" That was Mal's nickname for her (Mal, of course, was a nickname too.)

"...just keep an eye out for any approaching vehicles. I promise we'll be out of here in a blink." Mallory was kneeling down in front of the door of a pawnshop located in a dubious part of town. Dark brown hair occasionally obscured her view as she was working diligently on picking the lock. It was nearing 11:30pm but this shop was an ideal target, and robberies were usually best accomplished under the cloak of night.

Vi swallowed her anxiety down. She knew (hoped) that Mal was right (she usually was). Plus, they were running on low food (and cash) and this pawnshop didn't really need the money as much as they did.

Violet and Mallory had been living mostly off the grid for quite some time now. With just a vehicle between them and little more than the clothes on their backs, Vi and Mal lived their lives free of the obligations most people in the city were slaves to. This also meant that sometimes they had to resort to....creative ways to get by on the day to day. Showers at truck stops. Meals in hotel lobbies advertising free continental breakfast. Dumpsters behind supermarkets were particularly ripe for picking. If there was a way to get for free what most usually paid for, Mal was in support of it.

And if they couldn't acquire it for free? They'd find a way to take it. Mallory had an uncanny skill for picking locks, picking pockets, and picking out ideal targets for theft. Violet was charged with keeping watch, and creating diversions or distractions when the need arose.

Vi and Mal travelled. A lot.

Partly borne out of curiosity, partly because staying too long in one place meant you were more likely to get caught. Getting caught was the absolute last thing Vi wanted to happen. There would be consequences, fines. But worst of all, getting caught would mean being separated from Mal. Violet shuddered. She absolutely hated the thought. She shook her head to pull herself out of that train of thought.

Click.

Vi turned her attention back to Mal.

"We're in!" Mal grinned. The two girls stepped inside the pawnshop. They were both wearing dark clothes, hooded jackets. Mallory also wore a small backpack, which stored her lockpicking tools, and would be used to store whatever she would find that was worth taking.

They quickly made their way to the front counter. Mal scanned their surroundings.

"No cameras-- lucky us." She whispered. She deftly hopped the counter and began rummaging around. Violet kept near Mal from the other side of the counter, while occasionally glancing back outside. Although it was late at night in a mostly dead part of town, keeping watch was her responsibility.

"Bingo!" Mal exclaimed in a hushed tone.

There was a safe below the counter. Taped to the front of the safe was a small sheet of paper:

"Combination: 483276. DO NOT MISPLACE OR LEAVE IN PLAIN SIGHT."

Mal tsked. This was sloppy on the shop owner's part-- but extremely fortunate on theirs.

Mal quickly tapped out the code with the back end of a pencil she found earlier. The safe beeped and she heard the familiar click of a lock disengaging. The door to the safe popped open. Using the pencil, she pulled the door fully open to avoid getting her fingerprints anywhere. Immediately, she spotted the tray of rolled coins and a bank bag inside. She quickly pulled the money out and dumped it into her backpack. Beneath the coin tray was another tray, holding other small valuables. An antique hand mirror cast in silver, a nondescript cylinder canister, and three small jewelry boxes.

She replaced the coin tray and empty bank bag and as she went to close the safe door, she paused. She stole a glance at Vi, who was turned away from her at the moment. Mal could just barely discern Vi's features in the dark pawnshop with the moonlight coming in the window, illuminating her frame. Vi was shorter than Mal by a few inches, but her shadow was casting long on the shop floor. Vi's hood must have slipped off, because a faint red aura emanated above her shoulders, a result of her red hair catching the moonlight.

Mal smiled, then looked back down into the safe and pulled the empty coin tray out again. She stared for a moment at the items in the second tray, then picked up the hand mirror. The silver had tarnished on the back and handle, but cleaning it was an easy solution. She turned the mirror over, and two dark brown eyes were staring back at her. Mal's eyes were a stark contrast to Violet's green eyes. She slipped the mirror in her bag, then pulled out the cylinder canister. It was lightweight, most likely hollow. Mal gently shook the cylinder and heard something shifting inside. She looked at either end, and realized the ends were caps that set flush in the canister. Mal pried one end open and turned the canister over, and a rolled up paper fell out. She unrolled it out on the ground and knelt close. At first glance, it looked like a map or plans of some sort. The paper was old and browning around the edges. Mal didn't have enough light (or time) to make a better assessment. She rolled the paper back up and slid it into the cylinder. She replaced the cap and put it in the backpack as well. Mal pulled the three jewelry boxes from the safe. Pawnshop jewelry was almost always old or gaudy. Or both. The first two boxes she opened proved no different. Mal replaced the first two boxes, then grabbed the last box. It was smaller than the first two and she was certain it contained a ring.

"Probably some divorcee's wedding ring. Or maybe a burnout's championship ring."

But she was wrong on both counts. Mal opened the box, and inside was a pair of earrings. A modest cluster of gems. Mal squinted, tilting the box back and forth, trying to catch any light. A flash of purple caught her eye. Amethyst, perhaps? She stole a glance up once more-- but this time Vi was staring back at her. Mal discerned a look of panic on Vi's face. The red of her hair now a more vibrant and angry glow, her silhouette less ethereal and more ominous in the unusually bright light. Mal snapped the jewelry box shut and quickly tossed it into her bag. She stood up and kicked the safe shut, swinging the backpack over her shoulder, then hopped back over the counter. Headlights from a vehicle outside were shining directly into the pawnshop. Mal whipped her head around, trying to come up with a plan. Vi's left arm flew up, pointing in a direction behind Mal. Following her finger's trajectory revealed a door on the side of the counter with a sign reading "EMPLOYEES ONLY".

"Vi-- come on!" Mal exclaimed as she ran to the door. Vi rushed to follow her, red hair blazing behind her. The door led them to a back office. A computer occupied a desk, and there was a wraparound doorway that led back up front to behind the counter (probably for people who don't make a habit of hopping them...), and one more door marked as an emergency exit. The two girls quickly took the exit which opened up to an alleyway outside where they were met with a rush of cold air and the not-too-distant sound of whoever was outside the front of the building.

"Dispatch, this is Officer Grady responding to the 16 called in at 5851 Mill St. Officer Jones is with me." A man's voice said.

"10-4 Jones. Call if you need backup," came a reply, spoken over radio.

"Check the shop-- I'll check the alley."

Mal and Vi shared a look and began running down the alley in the opposite direction they heard the voices. Their path was soon cut short by a fence blocking the way.

"We'll have to go around a few blocks if we want to get back to the van...!" Vi started.

"I don't think we can go back to the van tonight, Vi. We'll have to find somewhere to hide out. But for now, we need to get over this fence!"

Violet nodded silently and Mal crouched down to help her up the fence. Once Vi was halfway over, Mal jumped up herself, and quickly hopped down on the other side. She turned back around to help Vi down-- she never did get the hang of fence climbing. As Mal set Vi down, they heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching and a beam of light bobbing in cadence.

"We have to get going!" Mal urged. She took Vi's hand and together they ran without looking back, despite now hearing shouting in the distance behind them. They ran a few blocks, weaving in and out of different alleys until Mal felt they were sufficiently safe. The girls stopped to catch their breath, leaning against a cold brick wall in another alley.

"I hope...that was worth it..." Vi said between labored breaths. Mal nodded with a smirk, although not saying anything as she was catching her own breath. She set her backpack on the ground and opened it, beckoning Violet to look inside.

"Maybe a couple hundred in the bank bag. Enough quarters to not have to worry about finding change to put air in the van's tires or the next time we need to hit up a laundromat," Mal explained. Violet nodded, accepting what Mal offered.

"If we can't risk going back to the van tonight... where will we stay for the night?" Vi asked. Now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, a chill began to settle in, and she felt exhausted. Together they look around, taking in their surroundings. There was nothing noteworthy in their immediate view. Mal swung the backpack on to her shoulders and held her hand out for Vi to take. They started walking out from their current hiding place, and heading towards the main road (based on the sounds of cars occasionally driving past). They peered cautiously around the corner. Neither direction offered much insight into which might be the better route to take.

"We could at least....make a wide loop eventually back around to the van?" Vi suggested. They were already parked a few blocks away from the pawnshop, so she was hopeful they could return without being spotted.

"I think that could be alright," Mal conceded. The two girls began walking in silence. There wasn't much foot traffic in this area, and it was a little after midnight according to Vi's watch. It was always after a "successful outing" that this heavy silence would hang between the two girls. Vi didn't dare ask Mal what it was she was contemplating. Vi on the other hand...

She was always wondering when this would come to an end. How long could they carry on like this-- barely scraping by, or stealing when they had nothing left? She tried talking about this with Mal in the past, but she was always met with the same answer. "Just one score away from hitting it big!"

They hadn't hit it big yet. They could never settle in one place for this very reason. Vi learned quickly to not grow attached to one place in particular-- by the time she got comfortable, it was always time to leave. But being with Mal made her so happy-- regardless of where they were staying. And so Vi would continue to say nothing. She would just smile and keep going.

Except--

Vi just realized she wasn't holding Mal's hand anymore. She turned around, and saw Mal standing a couple feet back. And smiling.

"Why'd you stop?" Vi asked. Mal tilted her head towards the building she was standing next to.

"Jerry's Dive" spelled out on a dimly lit neon sign. Vi didn't even know neon signs could be that dim. A smaller sign hung in the window reading 'OPEN'.

"We don't have anything better to do, I suppose..." She joined Mal and together the two girls walked into the bar. Inside was almost dull as the outside. Most of the tables were unoccupied. The sound of pool balls cracking filled the otherwise quiet bar. Most of the patrons were sitting at the bar, keeping to themselves. Vi motioned to the corner booth and Mal nodded as she headed to the bar. She came back with two cold beers.

"Scoot over," Mal said with a smile as she sat down beside Vi. It was warm enough inside the bar that the cold beer was actually refreshing to Vi. She took a long sip and tried to let her worries melt away as she swallowed.

"I suppose I should have known there might have been a silent alarm," Mal started. She had a tendency to dissect things when there were close calls.

"As soon as I saw the lights outside I turned to tell you, but you looked up at the same time. I didn't have a chance to say anything," Vi offered. Mal never actually blamed Vi for any close calls-- she knew getting caught was always a possibility. The most she could do was try to account for and try to stay ahead of any one scenario that began to play out.

"We got out-- that's what's important. And we didn't do too bad. I didn't count everything yet, but I'd say we're good enough to move on to somewhere a little livelier."

Jerry's Dive was as lively as any other place they'd seen this entire town. Vi nodded and took another long sip.

Livelier cities meant more temptations-- and more chances to be caught. But if what Mal was saying had any truth, maybe they would have some time to rest for a few days. No plotting. Just being with one another. Maybe in a couple of days she could talk to Mal again. About what's in store for the future. Their future. Vi wanted badly for there to be a future, but she was hesitant to get too carried away in those thoughts. She--

Mal set a small box down on the table and gently pushed it towards Vi.

"What's this?" Vi asked, her attention snapping back from the rabbit hole she was going down.

"It's just a little something...for you. I know it's not much but...when I saw them, I thought of you instantly." Mal locked her eyes with Vi as she spoke. Her face was quite somber and Vi felt her cheeks growing flush with Mal's gaze trained upon her.

Vi took the small box in her hand and slowly opened it. The spring hinge of the box made the box pop open, and inside, a pair of earrings. A cluster of three amethysts, arranged like flowers, twinkling purple beneath the light hanging over their booth. Vi gasped.

"Mal..."

"Will you try them on? For me?"

Vi nodded, and made deft work of putting on the earrings. Her ears had been pierced since she was a little girl and as of late hadn't owned any jewelry.

"Let's see..." Mal said, tucking a few strands of red hair behind Vi's left ear, and gently tilting her chin up and towards her. The purple gems caught the light favorably. Vi was blushing--even more so than before.

"I love you, Vi." Mal began, "Our life hasn't been ideal as of late-- I wish I could give you everything your heart desired." Mal then took both of Vi's hands in hers.

"I hope you can continue to be patient with me-- everything I do is for us, and my only concern is making sure you're happy and well taken care of."

Vi began tearing up as Mal continued speaking, her hands trembling in Mal's.

"Y-you don't have to say anything else," Vi's voice quivered. "I am happy. I love you."

Maybe everything will be alright, Vi thought as she kissed Mal, sitting in a corner booth at Jerry's Dive.

Labels: fiction junction

[dreamstate]

Apr 16, 2021 || 10:28 AM || comment?

[this is loosely based on part of a dream I had last night]

The heat was nearly unbearable. There might have been eight or ten people in the room. More like ruins, if you ask me. I don't recall anyone's face...except for his.

Jaw clenching, temple quivering. Sweat beading up and dripping down his forehead, hair slightly matted on his head.

I didn't fully understand what was happening. His hands were gripping a long piece of wood, then, suddenly producing a knife of sorts, he started swinging with great fervor at the wood. Chips and splinters flew around him, as a defined point began to form before my eyes. My brain recognized the shape as one of a spear, but I didn't understand why.

I'm told this is what happens when you're in shock: your brain can recognize things but nothing really makes sense.

The knife disappeared as quickly as it came, and he tossed the spear upright between his hands, testing its weight, its balance. I watched as his muscles twitched, his general lack of clothing on his upper body were to thank. And just as the reality of my surroundings began to settle in, he screamed out in a mixture of anger and pain, and I watched as wings began to erupt from the blades of his shoulders. The skin broke as they emerged from within, reopening old scars I hadn't noticed before, and blood spurted out, sprinkling my cheeks. I was sure it would have felt warmer than I expected, except I was even more sure the heat in the room was suffocating me. I didn't even notice I was holding my breath until I started to feel light headed and a tightness in my chest. I stared as he stretched his shoulders out, wings now at full span, blood slowly trickling down his back. He turned slowly, eventually facing me, a grave expression clouding his features. He reached forward, cupping my left cheek with his oversized hand. I stared wordless up at him. My ears started ringing, and I watched as his lips moved but I heard none of what he was saying. I focused on his lips as they formed shapes and tried to will the words but the buzzing in my ears was too great. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to my forehead. I could feel his breath as he whispered something, then he took a few steps back.

His wings began beating against the air, stirring up the dust covering the ground, and he slowly rose before me. Even though I couldn't hear what he said, I felt sure I knew as I looked into his eyes. For a moment he hung there, suspended in the air before twirling around and shooting off into the dusky sky above. A slight chill quickly settled in and the ringing in my ears subsided. I continued staring up into the sky, squinting for any sight of where he flew off to. I hardly noticed someone had grabbed my hand until I was ripped away from where I was standing, my legs carrying me to wherever I was being taken.

Labels: dream journal, fiction junction

Heavy is the cost. (part thirteen)

Dec 18, 2020 || 2:30 PM || comment?

First position. A pause.

Second position. A quiet shuffle.

Third position. A sharp intake of air.

Fourth position. Slightly parted lips.

Fifth position. A sigh escaping.

Ever since she lost her virginity, Lidiya could only climax if she thought about the five positions of ballet. Classically trained since the time she could stand upright, her mother had hopes of her being prima ballerina in a Tchaikovsky creation. And through bloody toes and tears, Lidiya worked hard to make her mother's dream a reality.

Her childhood was not an easy one, between school, ballet, and a mother forced to work multiple jobs in order to pay for lessons. Lidiya was home alone most of her life. Ballet was the only constant presence in her life. As a young girl, she wanted badly to please her mother, to wear the pink tutu and laced up pointe shoes. As a teenager, she tried to rebel, but no one was ever home to notice. Her ballet instructor did, however, and the thought of disappointing her was too great so she poured herself even further into dancing.

In high school, Lidiya was no longer among her peers, but rather attended a national school for dance. A rigorous program, they had students practicing in the studio upward of four hours a day, not including the cardio routines they were expected to maintain. Between eating disorders and sleepless nights of perfecting her pirouette or grand jeté, Lidiya would soon find solace in two things: alcohol, and sex. She had been recruited by a dance company by the time she finished school, and she often joined her peers for drinks after practices and performances. Familiar faces from her company would often swirl together those nights, as everyone shared cigarettes and drinks in nondescript cups. In those early days, her small frame lent itself to a low tolerance for alcohol...and an inversely proportional sex drive.

Lidiya took comfort in the one night stands with the knowledge that, if even for a few hours, someone noticed her. Someone wanted to hold her, to feel her. Yet despite the attention from her male peers, she couldn't escape from the grasp ballet had over her life. It started as a release through self-pleasure: she'd touch the soles of her feet together as she caressed herself, eventually making her way between her legs. There was the familiar feeling, of warmth and of pleasure, one she could uniquely bring to herself. And in her mind she'd imagine the five basic positions - the foundation for all movements required in ballet, and in her life.

Her mother passed away one day without much fanfare - Lidiya was touring with her company when the stage manager broke the news. She hardly flinched, though somewhere deep inside she knew she was supposed to feel some sadness. It was that night Lidiya gave the best performance of her life.

At least, that's what the card read, accompanied by flowers in a crystal vase that was waiting for her in her changing room. The card also had the name of a restaurant written on it with a time, and the letter V just below. Lidiya flipped the card between her fingers.

"No name?" she thought, studying the sharp lines of every letter. She didn't recognize the handwriting from any previous secret admirers, few, though persistent they might be. Intrigued, and having the desire to not be alone just yet, she changed into her streets clothes, pocketed the card, and hailed a cab back to her hotel room where she could shower before heading out to the restaurant.

The restaurant was dimly lit, and a low hum carried the many voices of the patrons to Lidiya's ears. Despite trying to pick appropriate attire, she still felt underdressed. She was nervous, but felt a twinge of excitement. As she approached the host's stand, she suddenly released she had no idea what to do or say. A young man stood at the other side of a podium, with finely groomed features, wearing a black suit. Lidiya could feel his eyes as he looked her up and down, an expression on his face she could only describe as indignation.

"Do you have a reservation?" he asked, almost accusatory. Like he knew she didn't belong there. Lidiya opened the small purse she brought with her, and pulled out the card. She handed the card to the host, and she could hear as he sucked the air through his teeth, a small tut as he read the card. He looked up at her, first in disbelief, then he turned the card over. His face paled immediately, and this time when he looked at her, she could feel the fear as if he committed some faux pas.

"R-right this way."

He briskly walked towards the back of the restaurant, weaving between booths and servers carrying trays containing all sorts of culinary delights. Lidiya scarcely could keep up with him. They soon approached a booth tucked away, she would not have known it was there had the host not led her. He muttered some pleasantry as he quickly left her to make his way back to the front. She finally looked at who awaited her in this hidden retreat.

An older man, though not as old as she had expected, with finely chiseled features, pouring two glasses of what looked like champagne.

In her experience with "adoring fans'', most were men in their early fifties, working through mid-life crises, with wives and children waiting back home. The distinct lack of wrinkles was the first thing she noticed. The lack of a wedding band, the second. The man looked up at Lidiya, and even in the low light, she was struck by his blue eyes. He smiled as he stood from his seat.

"Will you join me for dinner?"

Labels: fiction junction, Viktor's Girls

All the gold and the guns and the girls [couldn't get you off]. (part twelve)

Dec 17, 2020 || 7:35 PM || comment?

5:42 A.M.

Yuliya squinted at the sideways green numbers, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes once more.

5:55 A.M.

Only thirteen minutes have passed? Yuliya thought, as she lay in her bed. It was still dark out, and she hadn't slept a wink. The digital clock on her bedside table taunting her.

Today was the day Viktor promised to bring her to see Marta. Despite her lack of sleep, she was anxious. Excited. She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling above. Visions of seeing Marta and her father played in her mind. Oh, how she longed to see them. But what would they think of Viktor? What would her father think...? The happy visions dissolved away as the uncertainty slowly creeped in.

Why worry about something that hasn't happened yet...?

She pushed all thoughts of the impending meeting out of her mind. She slowly sat up, and glanced at the bed across the room. Galine's small form, made bulky under layers of covers, lay nearly motionless. The rhythmic rise and fall of the covers reassured Yuliya that she hadn't disturbed her younger roommate.

At least one of us is sleeping...

Yuliya gingerly swung her legs over her bed, and lightly set one foot on the floor, followed by the other. She grabbed her bath robe she kept draped over her closet door, and wrapped herself in it as she quietly left the room. The faint scent of freshly brewed coffee made its way down the hallway, and Yuliya let it guide her to the kitchen. As she neared it, she could hear whispers of conversation.

Yuliya stopped shy of the entryway, and watched as three of the house servants engaged in light conversation, and sipping some of the fresh coffee she sought out, no doubt brewed by one of them. She felt like she an intruder, witnessing the nonchalant behavior of the three men before her. She watched as they laughed at some joke she must have missed, and just as she was about to announce herself, one of them caught her eye.

"Oh!" One of them exclaimed, suddenly straightening up. The other two men became startled at the outburst, setting off a chain reaction of events. Coffee splashed out from one of their mugs, burning the hand holding it. A small shriek of pain escaped the lips of the unfortunate man, who instinctively let go of the mug. In a blink, the mug hit the stone kitchen floor. The shatter echoed in Yuliya's ears, as the three men simultaneously fussed at one another, and moving at once to clean the mess. Yuliya was embarrassed to be the source of the mishap, and she wondered if she should retreat back to her room. As she went to step back, she was interrupted by one of the men.

"Miss...?" he started, a hint of annoyance as he spoke.

"Yuliya," she replied, stopping in her tracks.

"Can I get something for you? You shouldn't step in the kitchen while there's still broken shards on the ground."

Yuliya felt like he wanted to blame her but refrained from doing so, whether out of obedience to Viktor or some other reason she couldn't name. She took a quick glance at each of the three men, one who set to cleaning, one running his hand under water in the faucet, then back to the one addressing her.

"I couldn't sleep... so I got up and could smell the coffee from the hall..." her words started spilling out, voice trailing off at the end. She was now painfully aware of her position, and the fact she was only wearing a bathrobe. A slight flush began to creep up on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry for startling you all."

"He'll live," the man spoke as he jerked his head back towards the man at the sink. "Nothing really surprises us anymore, so I suppose it's a nice reminder that there still remains things to be unexpected. I'll get you a cup."

As he turned around and stepped away from her, Yuliya wrapped the bathrobe a little tighter, to prevent any other potential mishaps. Hardly a minute passed and the floor was clean once again, and she only just noticed the water wasn't running anymore. The other two men had actually completely disappeared from the kitchen, and Yuliya wondered where they might have went.

"Here." A mug filled with coffee was presented to Yuliya from the remaining servant. She carefully grabbed the cup, and took a sip.

"Thank you...?" Yuliya started, realizing she didn't know what to call him.

"Luca." Yuliya nodded and gave him a soft smile. Over the years, many staff came and went, but few had she learned their names. She didn't really know why that was... some of the more tenured staff knew her name. Shouldn't she extend the same courtesy? They all shared one thing in common: life in this strange estate. Though, she knew there was a separate wing entirely for the servants, and wasn't actually sure just how many people kept the house.

"If there's nothing else, we should really get started on breakfast. Wouldn't want to keep someone waiting." Luca stated, and without waiting for a response from Yuliya, he turned around a disappeared from the kitchen.

Thanks for the coffee... she thought, as she walked back down the hallway. She passed her door, still closed, and made her way into the living area. It was Yuliya's turn to be startled, as she hadn't expected to see a figure wrapped in a blanket sitting on one of the couches.

"Morning.." Galine called out mid yawn.

"You're up early too?" Yuliya joined Galine on the couch, and Galine offered her some of the blanket. Yuliya pulled the blanket behind her shoulders, and tucked her legs under her as she sat down. Galine stretched out across the rest of the couch, and laid her head in Yuliya's lap. She looked up with sleepy eyes.

"I was dreaming about eating a large sundae....but as I went to take a bite, the bowl slipped from under me and fell on the ground, shattering into a million tiny pieces, and I jumped awake. The sound seemed so real.."

"Oh is that so...?" Yuliya asked, not alluding to the fact she knew what exactly it was Galine heard. She continued to sip at her coffee. She leaned back, looking up once again at the ceiling.

"Why are you up so early? Are you nervous about today?" Galine asked, stiffling another yawn. Yuliya looked down at the girl laying in her lap, and for a moment she swore she saw Marta staring back at her. She set the coffee cup down on the small end table, and rubbed both her eyes. Galine blinked at Yuliya, and tilted her head slightly.

"Maybe a little bit..." Yuliya admitted, "It's been a while since I've seen my sister. Or my father."

"Hm..." Galine pondered aloud. "If there's one thing I know.... your sister is lucky to have you always thinking of her. I know I feel very lucky that you're here, with me. I always wanted an older sister to watch after me.... and at least I have you."

Yuliya's eyes started to water hearing Galine's confession. Marta was probably around the same age as her. Maybe in a different life they would have been best friends? Maybe in a different life she wouldn't have had to leave her younger sister behind to fend for herself.... but she had to do the best she could for her. It took Yuliya years to forgive her father for leaving, and now she wondered if Marta could ever do the same for her.

Yuliya smiled and leaned forward just to enough to plant a light kiss on Galine's forehead.

"You're too sweet. Let's go get dressed before anyone else comes out here and takes the good seats at the table for breakfast, hm?"

At the mention of food, Galine sprung up from the couch with energy Yuliya didn't know anyone could muster this early. She draped the blanket over the arm holding the coffee, and made her way back to their room, wondering how she would mentally prepare for the day.

Labels: fiction junction, Viktor's Girls

Baby, aren't you hungry? I could give you codeine. (part eleven point five)

Dec 14, 2020 || 10:40 PM || comment?

The ambulance flew down the street, siren announcing its presence to the public. The driver called over the radio a status report. Aleksandra stared out the passenger window, forehead pressed against it. The streets blurred by. The words spoken were garbled. Time was moving in slow motion.

It would continue to do so for the next few weeks.

Aneurysm. It happened so suddenly. Painlessly. Nothing to be done.

Calls from relatives, well-wishers, and old friends poured in. The words fell on deaf ears as they all mumbled the same, meaningless sentiments.

"He was a good, honest man."

"Lived a quiet, fulfilling life."

"He didn't deserve this."

The funeral was no different, considering her father had arrangements made well in advance, much to her relief. A number of people attended the funeral, many of whom Aleks recognized as relatives or loyal customers, though their faces blended in the sea of bodies clad in black. Had she paid more attention, she might have noticed the piercing blue eyes standing at a distance from the rest of the crowd.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It felt like a slow dance as Aleks tended to the shop day in and day out the weeks following her father's death. The bell that jingled in the doorway was now a constant reminder that her father would never step foot in the doorway again. The flowers she trimmed reminded her that he would never smell them again, never see such colors again. As much as she hated being in the shop, the painful reminder of loss that it was, she couldn't let it die too. Then he would truly be gone...

The doorbell jingled and Aleksandra didn't bother to look up. She couldn't bare the sight of another pair of eyes gazing upon her with pity. Eyes that weren't her fathers.

"Ahem."

The deep sound of a man clearing his throat shook Aleks from her thoughts.

"How can I help...?" Aleks started, and as she looked up, a pair of piercing blue eyes were looking back down at her. A tall man, painfully handsome, was standing before her, just on the other side of the counter she was standing at. Those eyes...

"I need a floral arrangement. Something that says... 'I love you', perhaps?" A slight smirk rested on his face as he spoke. His voice was deep. Calming. Somehow...familiar? Aleks couldn't take her eyes off of his. She felt as though he could see right through her, that maybe he somehow knew what she was thinking. And just as she was starting to get lost in his eyes, it hit her. Or rather, she hit him.

That day.....running through the market, running into the beautiful couple. It was he who had stepped aside, let her keep going. Taming the wild beauty that was with him. No doubt the flowers would be for her...

"Or at least, something she thinks means 'I love you'," he clarified, a chuckle escaping his lips. Aleks merely nodded at his remark, and quickly turned away before betraying herself. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush as she thought about the man before her, and the woman she saw that day. What sort of relationship they might have.

Her mind raced as she walked among the flowers. Anyone could get a dozen roses, but that was too obvious. Too common. She felt an inexplicable need to impress him. To say with flowers what words cannot. She pulled poppies, mini carnations, and just a few garden roses, in a variety of deep reds and cream colors. She pulled some silver ragwort to accent the blooms. She walked back up to the counter where the man was now leaning, his grin seemingly gone and now replaced with a look of curiosity. Under the counter itself were two shelves with different vases. She grabbed one made of crystal, with intricate starbursts all around. The light catching the vase threw small prisms on the counter's surface.

As Aleks laid the stems gently on the counter, her hands began working deftly. Cutting the stems to a roughly an even length with each other. Quickly picking off dead or otherwise unwanted leaves and thorns. Taking the vase and filling it with cool water and adding a drop or two of bleach. Plunging the freshly cut stems in. Subtle tweaks here and there as she perfected the placement of blooms in the vase and in relation to each other. Tucking the ragwort in small gaps between the flowers. Her hands were conducting a symphony of colors as she beckoned everything into place. She slowly spun the vase around, looking over her own work, a sense of satisfaction coming over her. She looked up at the man once again, who was still staring at the vase.

"How's this?" Aleks asked, her voice nearly catching in her throat. She couldn't hide behind the flowers anymore. The man finally looked back at her, a bemused look on his face.

"I'd say it's perfect," he said, the familiar cool grin replacing his temporary awe. He pulled a wallet out from a back pocket, and with a single motion of his wrist, opened it and withdrew two bills using his free hand. She watched as he set them on the counter; it was more than enough to pay for the bouquet. As Aleks reached for the bills, he placed two fingers on them, preventing her from taking them. She stopped and watched him as he pulled a business card from the wallet and placed it directly on top of the bills. He then grabbed the vase and without another word, turned and left, the bell jingling as it marked his departure.

Aleks picked up the card, running her fingers across gold embossed letters that spelled the name Viktor on the front, with only a phone number on the back.

Labels: fiction junction, Viktor's Girls

'Tis the season!

Nov 17, 2020 || 2:16 PM || comment?

As I was working yesterday, I happened upon an idea..... a Christmas tree made of homemade ornaments! And because I have an excess of floss for cross-stitching.....

My M.O. is to start a kind of project/craft/hobby and...never...see them through... or do one or two small things and that's it. I've got loads of materials left. But not this time! I don't want a six foot tree, just something cute and small. We've got two cats and if they're going to knock over a tree I don't want it to be: really tall, or filled with fragile ornaments. This one is going to have a little Santa holding a sign that says Merry Welcome! To continue with this idea, I'll probably complete a few Christmas/Santa themed ornaments, and then perhaps ornaments with designs that are significant for Alex and myself!

Ideas for personalized ornaments:

cats
guitar
computer
pizza
sushi
glasses
concert tickets
train
fourth of july/fireworks
beer can (generic ipa)
more???

Notetaking

Nov 12, 2020 || 4:28 PM || comment?

Good afternoon!

I'm mostly taking notes for myself, in case I misplace the notebook I started writing in....

blog sections:

fiction junction (for short stories)
lifestyle (need to come up with a better name; but posts as the name implies)
gastronomique (food & drink posts)
audiologue (music posts)
other?

I don't want to spread myself thin, so to speak, in terms of blog posts....mostly because I want to actually come back to this and give it 100% and if I try to do too many things with it, I'm afraid I won't stay committed to actually posting..... but if you have any ideas for post categories/labels I should add, please let me know! I think commenting is still enabled on here.... I think...