forlorn

First Line Friday — Coffee, Tea, and Me

Fandango25 Comments

“A perfectly brewed cup of tea can’t fix everything,” the waitress said to the young man sitting at the café table, “but it sure comes close.”

“Huh?” Brad said, looking up at the pretty waitress who suddenly appeared at his table.

“You had such a forlorn look your face and I thought a nice, hot cup of tea might brighten you up a bit,” she explained.

“Well,” Brad said, “I’m not a tea drinker. I know that they say when in London do as the Londoners do, but I’m an American and I drink coffee.”

The waitress smiled at Brad and said, “First of all, I think the expression is ‘when in Rome,’ but that aside, I’d be happy to swap this cup of tea for a cup of coffee.”

“That would be great,” Brad said, a smile gracing his previously sullen face, “because a perfectly brewed cup of coffee can, indeed, fix everything. And it would certainly brighten me up if you could sit and join me.”

“I’d love to,” the waitress said, “but I don’t have a break for another hour. My name is Lizzy, by the way.” Lizzy put out her hand for the young man to shake.

Brad returned Lizzy’s handshake. “Great, Lizzy, I’m Brad,” he said. “Hold that perfectly brewed cup of coffee, please. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday prompt, where the first line is “A perfectly brewed cup of tea can’t fix everything.”

#WDYS — Love Lost

Fandango15 Comments

He stood there in the shadows of her building, watching the woman of his dreams and his former rival, the winner of her heart, walking hand in hand into her apartment. A forlorn look appeared on his face as he realized that he had lost in his rivalry to win her heart. He had it all — looks, charm, money — and he had never previously failed to excel when it came to being able to woo a prospective lover. This was not anything he’d ever dealt with before and he was having a hard time trying to handle this crushing defeat. He was having trouble catching his breath. He moved his hat over his chest so that no one would be able to detect the rapid pounding of his heart beneath his breast.

Hours went by and he continued to wait and watch until, in the late afternoon, he saw the two of them emerge from her apartment. They were holding hands, smiling, chatting as new lovers do. He could not accept this humiliation. He couldn’t allow this to happen. He walked over to them as they walked toward the street. He reached out for her, but her look told him she wanted no part of him. His rival pulled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest in an almost comical effort to seem intimidating.

“What has he got that I haven’t?” he asked her. “What can he give you that I can’t? You’ve made a huge mistake that you will regret.” He pulled out a small pistol he had tucked in his pants behind his back and beneath his t-shirt. “This cannot be,” he said. “You were meant to be mine.” And with that, he fired two shots point blank at the hearts of his victims. “God forgive me,” he said, as he pressed the gun to his temple and fired again.

I’m sorry that this story, written for Sadje’s What Do You See? prompt, turned out to be so dark. I hadn’t intended it to be that way when I first started writing it, but the words took the tale where they wanted it to go. Also written for these daily prompts: Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (rivalry), Your Daily Word Prompt (excel), Ragtag Daily Prompt (handle), and Word of the Day Challenge (catching). Photo credit: Sean Lee at Unsplash.

FOWC with Fandango — Forlorn

Fandango25 Comments

FOWCWelcome to January 27, 2019 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “forlorn.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.

Feeling Forlorn

Fandango13 Comments

98B39A80-031F-4DD4-ACBB-173BDD107999I have to be honest with you. I don’t think I have ever, in my life, felt forlorn.

Hmm. Let me think about that. Have I ever felt desolate or dreary; unhappy or miserable? How about lonely and sad? Forsaken? Hopeless? Bereft? Destitute? Nope, nope, and nope. Never ever have I felt any of those things.

It’s not that I’m a Pollyanna, an excessively cheerful or optimistic person, or anything. It’s just that there hasn’t been any reason for me to feel forlorn about anything.

Oh wait. I take that back. For a brief, wonderful moment, I was in a great mood. Then I remembered who our president is. Now I’m forlorn.

Written for today’s one-word prompt, “forlorn.”

The Boardinghouse

Fandango9 Comments

Henry had worked hard all his life. He had never married, had no kids, and, due to his modest lifestyle and general frugality, had managed to save around a hundred grand for his retirement, which was fast approaching.

Then he met a guy who knew a guy who was a financial wizard. Henry was introduced to this financial wizard, who chastised Henry for keeping his hard-earned savings in a low-interest bank account. “You need to put your money to work for you,” the financial wizard told him. “I can double your money in a year,” he assured Henry.

Henry was never much of a gambler or a risk taker. Still, this guy was a financial wizard. His tales of exponential growth in the stock market, investments in something called “futures,” and in “cryptocurrency,” whatever that is, were compelling. It all sounded very exciting to Henry. He’s a financial wizard, Henry thought. He must know what he’s talking about.

And so Henry handed over most of his hard-earned savings to this financial wizard.

That was three years ago. Henry’s money did not double in a year. It disappeared. As did the financial wizard and the guy who knew a guy. And now Henry, retirement postponed, lived in a rundown boardinghouse with five other forlorn families, all sharing a communal kitchen and single bathroom.

This was not how it was supposed to be, Henry thought.

Written for today’s one-word prompt, “communal.”