Thursday, May 19, 2022
It’s still Thursday where I am… although not for much longer. I was not satisfied with my progress on “Dead of Winter” today, although there was a little. So, after my usual day was finished, I wrote another response for the Thursday Doors writing challenge, hosted by Dan Antion.
This one is almost like a stream of consciousness. I used a song again, along with one of the door images that I offered up for writers to use as inspiration for the challenge. I’ll wait and see if anyone figures out the song.
In Through the Blue Door
Warren walked through the blue door, with a confidant swagger. He could have been walking onto a yacht, rather than into the party at my home, where friends came to watch the eclipse.
He smirked when he caught my eye. Putting a finger to his hat, he winked with the one eye that was visible beneath the brim. I knew how strategically he placed that hat.
“You were not invited,” I told him flatly when he approached. “Shouldn’t you be at some fancy party. I’m sure the Lear jet crowd is having a blast.”
Every woman in the room, and some of the men, turned to watch as he walked up to me. Some had stopped dancing when they saw him. Others looked up from drinks and conversations. They all dreamed that they’d be his partner — for one kind of dance or another. That was how it always was around Warren.
“I came to return this,” he said, removing my apricot scarf from his neck and handing it to me.
My hand remained at my side. Grinning, he took both ends of the scarf and suddenly tossed it around me, then used it to pull me close to his chest.
“We made such a pretty pair. We could again,” he murmured.
“Pretty? Funny, you never told me that when we were together,” I remarked.
I noticed one of his twinkling eyes was on the mirror, as he watched himself. He hadn’t paid any attention to my words. Warren used to do the same thing when we made love. He watched himself, with no real interest in me. He often flirted outlandishly with his reflection.
When we got dressed up for parties, he went on at length about how great he looked. Particularly the time I had made last minute alterations to a jacket for him, hand stitching it to accentuate his narrow waist and broad shoulders, sparing no time for my own cocktail dress. He had wriggled his eyebrows at his reflection in the rearview mirror as he drove, nearly running off the road. All without so much as a “Thank you” or a “You look nice” for me.
As he pulled me close, I heard a girl sigh enviously. If she only knew…
“It’s starting,” another Ex, David exclaimed looking out the window at the sky.
David and I didn’t have much of a romance. It happened too soon, and I was still unsteady after all the things Warren did. Besides, David told several lies. Big lies. Particularly about being divorced from his first wife — he wasn’t. However, we were still friends. Sort of. After the whoppers he told, I didn’t really even want to be friends. He led his third wife outside, via the kitchen door, chattering happily.
I hoped those two made it work. David had been through wife number one, wife number two, and then husband number one. He seemed to have found himself when he found his third wife. Looking at them made me smile. Or it would have except for the vain man in front of me.
“You know you dream of being with me again,” Warren whispered into my ear. “You loved it. Proof of that could be heard a block away.”
Shuddering, I remembered how he was when we were alone together.
“I was young and very naïve,” I replied, my face expressionless. “Any dreams I had of you, of us, were just clouds in my coffee.”
I grew cold inside, thinking of the mess he had made of me. Of the wreck I would always be. The aftermath of that nightmare was endless. Although no one could understand it. Looking at him, no one could believe it.
No one ever believed me about Warren. Except Mick, I thought as he Mick hurried in through the blue front door.
Mick stopped abruptly upon seeing me shove Warren aside. He walked past us without comment, but kept an eye out, in case I needed him.
Two men couldn’t have looked more different. Warren was tall and classically handsome, polished, and educated at a prestigious university. Mick looked more like a street thug. Frankly he was not an attractive man at all, but there was something… something that attracted me more than anyone else. His full lips and large blue eyes could express surprising gentleness. I knew that he would always come if I needed help too.
Rather than swaggering into the room as Warren had done, Mick jumped from one cluster of friends to the next, with exuberant hugs for everyone. It wasn’t flirtatious. That was just Mick.
I wanted to trust Mick. I wanted to love him. Unfortunately I was far beyond being able to trust again. I was terrified of loving anyone, ever again. I looked at him wistfully. If only I could be… like everyone else.
“Fine then!” Warren sneered.
He tightened his grip on my wrist only to throw it down. That made it look like I had been the one trying to hold to him, rather than vice versa.
“You never were worth a f— I’ll take Natalie with me to Saratoga. She takes care of her body, and she makes three times more money than you.”
Taking care of herself was Warren-speak for being rail-thin. He stalked to the blue door. Looking over his shoulder, Warren sneered at me again. He slammed the door as he left.
I knew the name Natalie. That was the wife of one of his best friends.
My phone rang. “Speak” of the devil.
I knew something else about Natalie, beyond her wealth and glamor. She had been an underworld spy. Now she earned her fortune through her clever and utterly devious mind. She used that mind to avenge women.
“Yes. He just left,” I said into the phone. “The dish is ready. Serve it cold.”
Thanks for visiting with me. Click the link to Dan’s blog to see more doors and more stories. I hope you’ll stop and leave a friendly comment. Fang and Dilly will be back with more of The Armadillo Files, once I’ve finished Dead of Winter. Hugs on the wing!
Thanks for spending part of your day here. I love to hear from you, so friendly comments are encouraged. Hugs on the wing!
Meanwhile, “Dead of Winter: Journey 13, the Harbor” is available. I’m grateful to everyone who is part of the Journeys of “Dead of Winter.” If you aren’t already, I hope you’ll be part of the extraordinary, layered world of that epic fantasy.
Dead of Winter — All the Journeys
Universal Purchase Links
Journey 13, The Harbor
Journey 12, Goddesses
Journey 11, the Sumelazon Escarpment
Journey 10, Pergesca
Journey 9, Doors of Attunement
Journey 8, The Lost Library
Journey 7, Revenant Pass
Journey 6, The Fluting Fell
Journey 5, Llyn Pistyll Falls
Journey 4, The Old Road
Journey 3, the Fever Field
Journey 2, Penllyn
Journey 1, Forlorn Peak
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2022 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
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