Thursday, 5 September 2013

Peace, Perfect Peace

The musical inspiration for this tale is 'Stay' by Hurts
 Here’s the link;

“This is all your bloody fault!”
I reached for her hand but she bunched it into a fist and pulled away.
She stalked off, her haughty pose only slightly diminished by being soaking wet and having to carry her shoes.
I trudged in her wake, slipping on the wet sand.
“Miranda!” I wailed
“Bugger off”, her wind-blown retort.
The cliff face stopped her where I couldn’t.
“Please Darling...”
“You can’t even sink a boat properly. Not a path for miles. I suppose you expect me to slog along this desolate beach until we reach some meagre sign that civilisation actually exists in this arse end of creation?”
“Well I can’t carry you, Babe. But I suppose could go off and look for a way up the cliff. Come back when I’ve found it...”
“... and leave me here, alone, at the mercy of who knows what, whilst you meander along, looking for seashells and forgetting why you started to walk along the beach in the first place? No bloody thanks.”
“But I know this pl...”
“What! Did you plan this fiasco? Is this your lame brained idea of a romantic destination? Well, let me tell you, Sunshine, you’re no Mr Darcy when it comes to romance – or anything else in that area. How do you know this place anyway? Have you been bringing other tarts here?... Is that it?... It is, isn’t it? Oh you unspeakable bastard! You little worm!”
“Don’t you Miranda me, Sonny Boy. When I get off this god forsaken beach the first person I’ll be speaking to is my lawyer. In fact there’s no point you leaving here at all – a driftwood hut on the foreshore is all you’ll be able to afford when I’ve finished with you.”
“Look, Dearest...”
“What? Where? Out of the way. Let me see. Oh yes, I see. Looks like someone’s waving at us from that cave.Why don’t they bloody well come over here then?”
“Perhaps we could climb in...’s not too steep”
“Well I made it, but no thanks to you. Now where are these waving people? Shine a light. Go on! Flick your lighter or something! How peculiar. They look like statues... of women. Damn, it’s cold in here. Give me your jacket!”
“Here, Sweetness. I’ll wrap this around you.”
“That stupid gossamer whisper of a thing? Are you a complete idiot, or are you still practicing? What good is that going to do? It’s just like the statues have draped over them. Fat lot of good it did them.”
“Multiple layers Munchkin. Keep some heat in whilst I get you my jacket...”
“Oh very well, just hurry up about it...”
“Here now, if I just drape it over your head as well, just so.... perfect. Am I a complete idiot? No Darling, but I have an ancient and effective way of dealing with wives who become... tiresome. Meet your new sisters, my other exes. Say hello. Oh, I forgot, you can’t. Not anymore. Bye Bye Miranda.”

500 words

This story was written for Jeff Tsuroka’s Mid Week Blues Buster and was inspired by the music prompt – ‘Stay’ by Hurts

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