Prompted by: Sam
The crazy author says: Well, this bugger’s really short. Like, reeeally short 😅 (this is my new favorite emoji LOL).
I flinch as he reaches for me.
“Sorry,” he says, his knuckles grazing my cheek. “That was uncalled for.”
And then he’s gone.
Prompted by: Yamna
The crazy author says: Just realized I scheduled this bugger for the wrong day 😅 Pretty sure the email is scheduled wrong too 😅😅😅 Shall fix that when I get home tonight. Yeahhh…
There’s no point in arguing.
I can’t win because he’s right. I’m not a good liar. I probably couldn’t win if he was wrong. I’m bad at lying and worse at debating. Would’ve made for a shitty politician. Dealing with problems isn’t my forte.
I much prefer avoiding them altogether.
Prompted by: Ember-Raine Winters
The crazy author says: I had this scheduled for tomorrow by accident. Genius, eh? 🤓 A huge THANK YOUUU to the lovely Miss Jess for letting me know 😘
I wish I had an extra set of hands.
Or a dozen extra sets.
It’s no easy feat dragging an overfilled suitcase up a flight of stairs with a passed out four-year-old on your hip. I actually do pretty well though. I manage to reach the top before my grip gives out and our luggage goes tumbling.
It doesn’t go quietly either.
“Mommy…”
Prompted by: Jeri T. Ryan
The crazy author says: Trace made me do it. He can be very persuasive…
I head straight for the bathroom.
He’s right on my ass.
Literally.
Prompted by: Tracey Rice
The crazy author says: OMG, it’s finally done…
I can’t sleep.
I had gone directly to my hotel and taken a cold shower, followed by a hot shower, followed by two Advil. Then crawled into bed with my hair still damp and pulled the covers over my head.
Now I can’t sleep.
Part of me is worried he’ll come barrelling into the room. The other part is wishing he would.
You do the math.
Prompted by: Tiara “Kikyo” Giles
The crazy author says: So much for ending this storyline, eh? 😅
“Are you insane?” My question vibrates with rage. Every part of me is vibrating with rage. “I told you it’s over between us.”
“No,” he groans. “It’s not over.”
I sigh in exasperation, “Just get up, will you?”
He doesn’t. Planting his hands down on the sticky, disgusting floor, Trace bows at my feet. He fucking bows.
And damn it all, but I almost reach for him.
Prompted by: Amanda
The crazy author says: Methinks this storyline is coming to an end soon. Maybe. Probably.
It’s Friday evening and I’m at the theatre.
Alone.
I almost didn’t go because you need to wear pants in public and I wasn’t in the mood for pants. I was in the mood for undies and bunny slippers. Or bare feet and a hot bath. Plus, the mini bar in my hotel room has a mutant slice of chocolate cake stashed at the very back corner. That would’ve been an added bonus to staying in.
