Shall we write a story?

[CaligulaBlushed]

Well, I'm thoroughly enjoying the "unconnected words" thread and wanted more of the same! So shall we write a story? Everyone contributes a line - or even two if you're so inclined?

I'll start...

A pale glow appeared on the horizon, and in her drunken state Margot wondered if this was finally it.

To a mix of Margots delight and of course some apprehension. There was no denying this really was it...... She edge her way closer and closer in trepidation joy and disbelief......

knowing it had been a long time since she felt like this. And yet only this morning hadn't she awoke with a strange feeling that today was going to be different?

The glow turned into headlights, and as Margot's head swam with a mix of gin and emotion the van pulled up alongside her.

She waited with a growing sense of excitement and unease, but none of the van doors opened. She knew from experience that she should wait for the 'one' to beckon her in, and so she stood fidgeting on the kerb. At last...

A willowy figure emerged from the van

took her by the hand and said :Come with me Margot it's time.

You are needed, this world is not the place for you.

She swayed under the influence of the gin and tried to place this person, didn't she know this voice? She tried to steady herself and at least ascertain whether they were male or female

She searched her confused memory in vain, but the gin had made her trip into the past tiring, and she slumped to the pavement.

She awoke. The familiar yet distant memory of the night lingering.

Oh laws, she needed a pee, a coffee, and an aspirin, in that order....

Was that Brian from next door hammering on the door, yelling something indecipherable from the shared hallway of their block of flats? Jesus, did he really have to be so loud??

Margot felt it hit her like a lightning bolt, Brian ?....it couldn’t be Brian ?

Brian, the man next door who she fancied something rotten, but had never had her interest reciprocated. Could he have been that willowy figure from last night?

"Margot! Margot, that bloody cat of yours is in my flowers again! Get your gin-soaked ass out here and shoo your beast off my property!"

Perhaps right now wasn't the time to tell Brian how she wanted to dig her fingernails into his rippling shoulders and make him call her "mistress". What had happened to her last night?

She really must take a firm hold of her drinking: her binges were becoming more and more frequent and having a more serious impact.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, clutched her head and lowered her feet to the floor... except it was soft, smooth and cool. Looking down she saw her toes awkwardly nudging the buttocks of a long willowy form; pale, naked and dead.

So it hadn't been a dream after all. "Oh my god, this can't be happening" she exclaimed. She bent down to examine the lifeless form and realised she knew who it was.

It was her soul , which along with her morals had departed her body last night after the second thwarted attempt at dogging

"Melania!" she whispered, throatily. "You seemed to be enjoying Theresa's dance party last week. What went wrong?"

'I was thinking about that time with Justin, in the boardroom, with the maple leaf' Melania replied, throatily. Nothing went wrong, she mused, and ate a donut.

Her delight in the custard donut was interrupted by more and more desperate hammering on the front door by Brian. Annoyed she went to open the door and in place of Brian, found two police officers flashing their cards at her.

With a sigh of relief that that was all they were flashing, she invited them in.

However, her relief was to be short-lived. Her cat raced past them, through her legs, his mouth full of Brian's prized chrysanthemums.

Or were they his mesembryanthemums, she never could tell the difference.

Or were they his mesembryanthemums, she never could tell the difference.