Blood and Sand

The bustle of the Atlanta airport provided cover as Millicent disposed of gloves and syringes she used earlier. Flying three times a month for work, she’d noticed that the trash cans near curb side check in were emptied most often. Millicent never broke stride as she tossed the evidence and removed her black designer Costa Del Mar sunglasses with the same hand, entering the automatic doors. Dressed in a black Armani pants suit with matching Jimmy Choo three-inch leather heels, Millicent turned the heads of the male ticket clerk and the female security guard as she arrived at the TSA line. She pulled her phone from her Prada, removed silver hoop earrings and caught the smile of a tall, attractive, middle-aged man with the hair the color of Atlantic Ocean sand in the other line, fifteen-feet away. Her call went to voicemail.

“Dad, it’s me, again. Flying to New York for my conference and my other meeting. I may stay a few extra days. I heard from your, um, business associate. I’m worried about you but, I’m going to do it, for you. Call me.”

A short, portly male TSA agent, leaned into the taller Millicent.

“Ma’am, no cell phones til ya you get to the terminal.”

She rolled her eyes, looked past him and saw the sandy-haired man, still smiling. He was broad-shouldered, confident, and well-groomed wearing an expensive gray suit. Millicent pursed her lips and shot a playful raised right eye-brow, then smiled. They flirted more during the twenty-minute security check. Not once did she worry about what was in her luggage or carry-on bags.

Millicent lost track of her paramour. She hummed a Stone Temple Pilots Song as she reached a bar. The female bartender was young, no more than twenty-three. Her gold name-tag on her white dress-shirt read Holly. Millicent sighed at the thought of Holly not knowing how to make her favorite drink. Millicent scanned the bar’s shelves for scotch, vermouth and cherries. She assumed there was orange juice. She picked up a cocktail napkin and pointed at the barkeep’s ink pen. Holly handed it over. Millicent wrote.

“I would like a Blood and Sand. Here’s what you’ll need. Don’t worry about the maraschino cherry garnish. All I have is a twenty. It’s yours, I swear.”

Holly mouthed “okay” and walked away, intimidated. Millicent felt a large hand on her right shoulder. The sandy-haired man whispered in her ear.

“Wow, I haven’t seen a woman as well put together getting on an airplane in a long time. You must be in fashion or design or shopping or something like that.”

Millicent ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth.

“No, chemistry, among other things.”

****blogger’s note*****

This is a stand alone piece, maybe, of Millicent Stingely, my “Cinnamon Girl” serial killer Consider it a prequel to the summer blog series I’m writing with Tara It’s prompted by Write On Edge’s “sand” challenge.  This would fall after she kills her ex-boyfriend and his neighbor and before she meets Pauley. Millicent’s favorite band is Stone Temple Pilots. Both of us were listening to this song while I was writing. Here’s STP out Aerosmithing Aerosmith with Huckleberry Crumble.

The Fly

Living with four women, the cacophony of screams is my cue. I grab a shoe or rolled up magazine and play my soap opera role. I’m the exterminator of insects, not much more.

****blogger’s note****

This is my weekend writing exercise courtesy of Trifecta Writing Challenge Today, I was given three words cacophonym soap, and insects and told to use them in order. I went personal again. I’m the fly, cockroach, beetle, and other bug killer in my house of a wife and three daughters. There aren’t a lot of cool songs about this subject. U2′s The Fly played in my head while I wrote this at the breakfast table with my daughters.