This week’s prompts are at the bottom.
Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.
When Ryan went outside it was hot. Overhead the Arizona sky was clear and blue. Mary Lou was dozing on a chaise by the pool. Her bikini top lay on the cement next to her. Ryan carried a cricket bat behind his back and eased his way in the direction of her lounge.
Whoever was piloting the drone that hovered over the sleeping girl was obviously paying attention only to her and hadn’t noticed Ryan approach. About ten feet from the drone Ryan took two quick steps and cocked the bat. When he swung he knew it was a good shot. He drove most of the drone high over the back fence, He heard it land in the alley and startle a cat. Pieces scattered when they were knocked off both the drone and the bat on impact. Some of the drone parts went into the pool. Some were driven to the planter, where yuccas stood sentinel, some were propelled down to Mary Lou and others were knocked, helter skelter, around the pool deck.
The sound of the bat impacting the aerial peeping Tom woke Mary Lou who sat up straight in her seat. Her hand flew to her cheek where a small piece of broken plastic had hit, “Shit,” she yelled, “What’s going on?”
Ryan could see that she had suffered a small cut, it might bleed a drop or two. No stitches would be necessary, most likely, not even a band-aid. It was more like a boo boo than a wound. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
“It’s OK, baby,” he assured her, “the drone with the camera was back, but I took care of it this time. You OK?”
“Yeah, I’m OK,” she pulled her hand away from her cheek and looked at her finger for blood, finding only a trace. She reached down and scooped up her blue and pink swimsuit top, clutched it to her chest, and walked to the back door. Seemingly in no hurry, she went inside the house. Ryan went out the back gate and collected the main part of the black and silver plastic drone. One of the propellers was shuddering and still trying to spin. The machine was toast, there would be no fixing it, but Ryan brought it in anyway. He sat it on his workbench in the garage before following Mary Lou back across the deck and into the house. He wanted to see if there were any identifying markers on the flying spy ship. See if he could discover who it belonged to, so he could have a word with them, but he thought he should go check on Mary Lou first. You never know, he thought, she might be grateful.
This week’s prompts are:
- the final year of growth and liberation
- liquored up
- never going home
Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!