This week, the prompts were: "... has arisen..." or use: lamb, soul, redemption or use ham in an interesting way or "You have no faith to lose and you know it..." or use chocolate or use a church in some way or "Family values? Your family wouldn't know values if..."
I used the "... has arisen...", but in an entirely different way than I had imagined. Enjoy! Don't forget to see what the other Wednesday Briefers have come up with! Their links follow my tale!
Lionel
The sour scent of stale sex smelled as rancid as a filthy
grease trap. Lionel wrinkled his nose in disgust. He hadn’t really noticed
before. Mainly because everyone else smelled just as horrible. He’d been cooped up with the band members so
long, it had become too familiar to stand out. But now he was home, and in the
cool, fresh South Carolina air, he even offended himself.
Priscilla would have a cow, and he knew it. His sister could
be a real stickler for things. Like cleanliness. And personal hygiene. How
could he make her understand that not washing because he was too busy
partying—getting high, drinking everything in sight, including a bottle of
cough syrup, banging every girl that would let him inside her pants, and maybe
a couple of guys—was a cheap price to pay for nirvana.
So what if the cabbie had sprayed the interior of his hack
with fabric spray as soon as Lionel stumbled inside? Nothing personal, right?
More of a tribute to his pride of ownership. And if the driver was offended,
the generous tip Lionel gave him before he crawled out of the vehicle in front
of his house ensured that his luggage would be treated with some semblance of
respect as it was tossed onto the lawn, right next to where Lionel had tripped
and fallen.
He thought he heard the driver mumble something about a
sewer. The slam of the cab door reverberated through Lionel’s skull. “Do you have to be so loud?” But he was talking
to himself and he knew it. And didn’t care.
Goddamn, that had been fun. Touring with the Midlife Crisis.
Six states in two weeks. The tour bus had careened like a drunken sailor
through the deep South, from one venue to the next. Faceless crowds filled with
adoring fans. Not his, of course. Lionel wasn’t a member of the bad.
Technically, he might be considered a groupie. Personally, he referred to
himself as a muse. An inspiration for the band. They thrived on his excesses
and encouraged them to the nth degree.
Whiskey and grits.
Morning noon and night grits. He’d eaten so many he’d even shat the damn
things.
Was it worth it? Hell yeah. He’d even endure Priscilla’s
sanctimonious nagging. The memories of his experience—at least the ones he
retained—would last a good long while. Perhaps until the next tour he was
invited on. And there was no doubt in Lionel’s mind that he would be invited.
He’d been the fucking life of the party, hadn’t he? Didn’t the fun begin and
end with him? Hell to the yeah. Priscilla’s words would die out long before the
glow of this trip.
He fumbled in his pocket for the house key. What was that?
He looked into his palm. A book of matches, a half a roach, a few coins. Not
what he was looking for. He plunged them back inside and plumbed the depths of
his other pocket. This time he struck pay dirt. “Eureka!” he cried, then
dropped his voice to a loud stage whisper and repeated, “Eureka!” He held the
key proudly before him, as though he’d just won a Grammy.
They should have Grammies for muses. He would suggest that
next time he saw the band.
He got the door open in one try, flung the suitcase inside
ahead of him and closed the door as quietly as he could. No sense in waking the
slumbering beast any sooner than necessary.
“Shhh, I’m hunting wabbit.” He was torn between going to the
kitchen to get a drink and heading upstairs to strip and shower. Common sense
won out. He could drink out of the tap before he got into the shower. Kill two
birds with one stone. The thought made Lionel giggle.
The house was as silent as a tomb. Priscilla must be asleep.
Well, good for her. A hot shower, something to wet his whistle, he’d fall into
bed and grab some shut-eye himself. He had to look good tonight. His peeps hadn’t
seen him for weeks. He needed to prepare himself for them.
It wasn’t until he began to ascend the main staircase that
opened directly from the foyer up to the living quarters he shared with his
sister that he noticed the runner was wet. He’d tripped and fallen onto his
hands. Damn! They sank into the squishy carpet.
Oh, there’d be hell to pay. Priscilla was probably having
two kinds of kittens. Must be the damn bathtub, not draining properly. Again.
He tried to tell her, but she’d insisted on the heavy claw foot tub and he’d
not bothered to argue. It never did any good anyway.
He could just imagine the hell she would put him through. She’d
insist on calling a plumber. That wouldn’t be cheap. She’d blame him, of
course. She always did. Even though he hadn’t been there, it would still be his
fault.
The words to one of the Midlife Crisis’ best-loved songs
echoed in his head as he awkwardly rose to his knees, the water soaking through
his pants. He regained his feet, only swaying slightly, and wiped his moist
hands on his trousers. “The devil you know is the devil you love, ‘cause
when Satan has arisen, there’ll be sunny skies above. Oh baby, what’s happened
to our love?”
The lyrics failed to cheer him up. He kept picturing the
recriminations that were no doubt in store for him. Maybe his best course was
to turn around now and flee the scene? At least until his sister had a chance
to handle the crisis herself?
Hell, the carpet on the second floor was saturated too, and
stunk to high hell. What was she using in the bath these days, eau de skunk?
Phew!
He fell heavily against the bathroom door. It crashed open
and he stumbled inside, almost falling into the overflowing bathtub ... where
his sister’s body lay.
And then he fainted.
Should I continue with this? Weigh in with your opinion! And visit the other Briefers!
Until next time, take care!
♥ Julie
Should you continue? Of course you should continue. I want to know about his sister death... You can't possibly let us hang, can you?
ReplyDeleteHey, if the characters keep hounding you then you definitely should :) Wow! This guy has some huge problems! Of course he's going to be brought up on murder charges...well hopefully you can do something else with it bc that would be a bit cliche. But, then again, I can't imagine him not being accused when he's so high/drunk. I hope her death sobers him up! A drowning death is rough b/c how do you know if someone did it or if she accidentally drowned or killed herself? Will someone be after him? You can go in tons of directions. I hope you continue it. I'd like to know more about the character like how old he is, where are his parents since it sounds like his sister ran the house. Hoping for more
ReplyDelete~Cannd
Of course you should continue. can't wait to see what happens when Lionel wakes up :) He's in a bit of a mess and he's going to be in more of a mess before this is over I think.
ReplyDeleteMiss Stan and Ollie so finish them first
Wow. I was kind of expecting the sister to be dead, but not like that. Wow. you should definitely continue. Lionel is a mess right now, he's going to be in deep trouble and it's going to be interesting to see how he gets out of it. Though like Nephy said, do finish Stan and Ollie <3
ReplyDeleteI love it so far. I feel bad for his sister, but I know there is a great story in there. Continue please.
ReplyDelete