As an adrenaline junkie, Ash was always in search of the next rush. He lived for daring feats and had literally done all sorts of daring stuff to the constant chagrin of his mother.
Diving off building tops was tame considering other adventures he had embarked on, but today was different. In response to the challenge of his long-standing competition Todd Kemp, it was a record-setting moment for his fastest free fall so far.
With safety harness all set up and onlookers gathered to cheer, he was about to step off the ledge, when the flash of his mothers repeated pleas echoed in his head.
She had warned him over the past several days not to engage in any dangerous attempts based on a recurring nightmare that she had, but he waved it off as one of her usual entreaties.
Shaking off the fleeting cold feet from hearing his mother’s voice in his head, he stepped off and tumbled down into a blackout. The last thing Ash remembered was the cacophony of voices and an insistent voice urgently cajoling him not to let go.
‘Don’t move!’ Ted ordered in a low tone, but Rita couldn’t help the terrified squeak that escaped her mouth when she followed his pointed gaze and saw the mean looking snake flicking its forked tongue repeatedly, poised to attack at the slightest provocation.
Rita despised creepy crawlies with a passion and snakes topped her chart.
Kaboom! Ted’s aim blew the snakes head off and as its writhing body fell to the ground Rita threw up violently.
She knew that not only would she have creepy nightmares for weeks to come, but she will not be going on a hike in the wild anytime soon.
Thank you, Kecia for the photo prompt and PJ for hosting.
She hissed in annoyance and sighed in resignation. Not knowing if her irritation was due to her changed plans, the unpredictable weather, the weather channel or the summation of all three.
They just never seemed to get it right these days. Especially the new weather girl with the dry sense of humour, pout and too much makeup. She had said they would have a fair Spring day, yet here came sleet with ice nestling on the leaves.
With another sigh at her changed plans, Geeta put the kettle on for a spot of tea. She should have listened to her bones. Her tired bones could tell the neurotic weather better than all those fancy TV personalities, except maybe Harrison’s creaky bones.
Clarisse held the silver urn close to her chest for several minutes, caressing it absentmindedly. Maybe it was her imagination, but the gentle wind grew stronger and the breeze teased her hair at the nape just the way Tim had loved to play with her hair. She felt the beautiful urn become warm in her hands, she felt his presence surround her and her eyes welled up with bittersweet tears.
This would be the final time she would hold him in her arms. She gently opened the jar and cast his ashes into the stream, watching as the gushing water carried away the remains of her love.
He had wanted to be free after being debilitated and confined for so long from an autoimmune disease. He had wanted this stream, his favourite spot on Earth to be his final resting place and she had fulfilled his last wish.
The hungry look they had in their eyes for each other didn’t go unnoticed. The passion between Sir Edgar and Lucy Rushmore sizzled.
Everyone knew that they were sweet on each other and it was no surprise how Lucy stole unchaperoned opportunities to stay as close to Edgar as possible. As a matter of fact, there were whispers that an announcement of their engagement would be made that evening.
It was a perfect evening. The drawing room was filled with high society. The ladies looked divine in their evening gowns and the gentlemen, dapper in their bespoke tailored suits.
Fine wine, rich food, good music and lots of laughter floated around the room. Kara Synod’s acclaimed renditions in her rich Soprano had lots of eye’s wistful and received prolonged applauses.
The shocking news left everyone chilled to their bones. In the interlude of songs, dance, and laughter, Lucy was found in a dark powder room cold from death and two long pointed hairpins with the etchings of a black rose stuck in the base of her throat.