Category Archives: Cinnamon Girl
Ready to Go
Millicent Stingley prepared her perp walk like a supermodel did for a runway. She spent almost two hours picking out something to wear. She settled on her lucky blue Chanel dress that accentuated curves. Tall, hippy and busty, Millicent knew what men saw when they looked at her and a 160 IQ didn’t show in this outfit. One carat diamond earrings that she’d bought for her birthday completed the presentation.
Her attorney Reeve Mattox, her chemist friend John Clemenson, and a bodyguard named Gunny waited in her living room. She smiled in the bathroom mirror and opened the door.
***blogger’s note***
I’m writing a four thousand word short story titled Cinnamon Girl and entering it in a writing contest in December. This is the story’s first (edited) 100 words. I inserted Velvet Verbosity’s 100 word Challenge prompt of “Lucky” so I could participate http://www.velvetverbosity.com/2011/11/23/100-words-and-the-sap-runneth-over/ this week.
Today’s song is from Republica. I know this has become a stable for people workout mixtape and some sporting events but for about 5 minutes I liked it as a real song. It kind of sets an arrogant mood, and Millicent is an arrogant mood. Here’s Ready to Go…
Miss Murder
Last time with Millicent: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2011/11/22/fly-trapped-in-a-jar/
Four wooden dining table chairs laid on their sides and the table’s middle leaf had come apart. Athough Trever could no longer speak, Millicent felt sure it was pincing his back. She moved off of him then adjusted her underwear and dress. His body settled into a coma from the synthetic drug she’d laced his wine. She kept his pants at his thighs, it would help staging in a few minutes. It took three shoves (He weighed 180 pounds, 30 more than Millcent) but she moved him to the floor onto his back. She could not tolerate disorder so she corrected the table and chairs.
Millicent went through anything in the condominium that belonged to her. Trever had chosen to betray their relationship, so she thought now would be best to get her things. She filled a laundry basket with clothes, earrings, movies, and CDs. Next to the bed she saw a silver iPod. She put on the ear buds and pressed play. She smiled when heard AFI. The ipod definitely belonged to her. Trever didn’t listen to rock music. She went back to condo number six.
The redhead was paralyzed on her stomach; her ear to the floor. Drool had formed near her face and chest. Millicent was satisfied that the younger woman had heard everything. She pressed stop on the IPod when she discovered the redhead’s handbag. A driver’s license read, Britney Cole. She watched Britney’s blue eyes blink incessantly. Britney was regaining feeling in her legs and feet. Millicent smirked and restarted the iPod.
She moved the much lighter Britney, downstairs. She stuck another syringe into Britney’s side and laid her over Trever’s stomach.
Her ex-boyfriend and her replacement would die together, in the morning. The poisons would give her a 24 hour start, maybe more. Millicent got in her car, plugged the iPod into her stereo and hit replay. She headed to the Atlanta airport for a red eye to New York City. AFI’s Miss Murder blared.
***blogger’s note*** This is my response to Trifecta’s 333 word prompt from the word BETRAY http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2011/11/week-two.html and Write On Edge’s writing assignment of “write about the soundtrack of a pivotal scene” http://writeonedge.com/2011/11/red-writing-hood-soundtrack-of-our-words/#respond
Today’s song is what Millicent is rocking, Here’s Afi’s Miss Murder.
Fly Trapped In A Jar
Last Time with Millicent: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2011/11/11/cinnamon-girl/
Being obsessively neat, poison was the most fitting way for Millicent Stingley to kill. She knew what she was coming with her boyfriend, Trever Jones. Millicent hadn’t been the best girlfriend, but she thought she had been good enough. Lately, Trever had been distant. He’d made friends with a younger woman who had moved in above him. That hurried the inevitable.
An intelligent and talented chemist, Millicent mixed chemical compounds in her bathroom laboratory. She put them inside beige capsules and white syringes. She showered, picked out the best black cocktail dress for her long legs and curvy hips, then spent almost an hour with her makeup. As she finished, her cell phone vibrated. She read the text message while painting her lips bright red..
“Just meet me at the restaurant.”
She shook her head and said into the vanity;
“The least you could have done, Trever, is treat me right one last time.”
Millicent arrived at Sunset’s at 7:30pm. Trever was already seated. She saw him texting. He had rarely texted during most of their three years together. After the younger woman moved in, two months ago, he texted often.
She kissed him at the table. It was void of warmth. The conversation was as dry as the chardonnay they ordered. Soon, Millicent had enough. Her chocolate eyes narrowed. The low ironic light caught tiny shines in her brown hair.
“Just tell me why you kissed my mouth like you wished it were someone else’s.”
A numbness swept over Millicent’s body when Trever’s face hardened and he spoke.
“I think I’m done. I want to call things off.”
She bit her bottom lip until blood formed in her teeth. He touched her hand across the table.
“I’m sorry, but this is how I feel.”
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Kurt challenged me with “”Our bodies were laid out. They were laid for fifteen yards. And two feet above each of our heads was a fly trapped in a jar.” -Isaac Brock, “Fly Trapped in a Jar.”" and I challenged Tara Roberts with “”We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year” – Pink Floyd”
