Better Than The Holy Grail

Today's prompt words in bold.

Erica caressed the brass rail paralleling the narrow passageway to the subterranean grotto. The map indicated it was where she'd find the hero she sought. Once inside, she inhaled the familiar aroma, raced toward the source, tore the plastic wrapper, bit off a large chunk, savored the flavorful meats and special sauce. Scavenger hunt finished.

It Shouldn't Have Happened

The sudden downpour bombarded the ground. Alyssa looked up, let the pellets smack her face, hoping they might cleanse her. She hadn't meant for their friendship to turn into an affair, especially with Madeline. Not that Alyssa wasn't attracted to her daughter's teacher. 

She'd broken it off with Madeline. At least, she hoped she had. The yearning hadn't evaporated from her completely. Sometimes, an urge arose in Alyssa when she smelled perfume similar to Madeline's, or heard the classical music they both liked. Alyssa'd quit smoking three years ago after many tries. Now, that seemed easier than erasing Madeline from her life.

Dan was a stickler for routine. Breakfast at 6:30. Dinner at 7:00. Church at 9:00. Shirts hung by type, then color, buttons to the left. The kids well-behaved in public. Alyssa thought this was what she wanted—needed. She shook her head, thinking about how wrong she'd been, and wondered if being unlike Dan was what she found attractive in Madeline.

Alyssa knew what Dan would think about her unconnected triangle of lovers. She wasn't surprised he hadn't caught on. He wasn't the think-outside-the-box kind. Plus, she and Madeline had become pros at keeping a secret, even in a smallish city. Polite hellos at teacher conferences, quick hugs at the grocery store, hands “accidentally” touching while watching their girls' soccer matches.  

The affair hadn't lasted long, just three rendezvous in a not-so-nearby town, but Alyssa's feelings for Madeline went deep. She knew Madeline felt the same way. Alyssa had cried at their last encounter. Madeline knew why immediately. Alyssa wished Dan was as perceptive. The two left the motel, agreeing not to see each other romantically any longer. Now, standing in her driveway, Alyssa protected the family picture she kept in her wallet from the rain, and sighed. She'd chosen her future. Now she needed to make it work.

Revenge

This story first appeared in Microfiction Monday Magazine.

The fake rabbi stood on the frozen sidewalk leading to the Catholic church. He blew each parishioner a kiss as they exited the noon service. A bitter mix of alcohol and cigarettes permeated his breath. He saw her shake the priest’s hand, smile, say something that made the priest laugh. She, the drunk driver, the killer of children, the judge’s wife. The rabbi reached in his pants pocket, felt the knife, took a deep breath, and tottered away. Around the corner, he threw the beard and hat in a trash can. Revenge wasn’t in his nature.

The Reluctant Samaritan

Today's prompt words in bold.


She approached the triangular box squirming in the middle of the highway, nervously spun the umbrella that protected her from the mist, wiped a hand on her short shorts three times, and moved closer. She lifted the lid, peered inside, screamed when the toad hopped out, and cursed the laughing boys hidden in the woods.