The third day’s challenge, also a day late. Hopefully I can get day four done today… On time. Also, I want to say that YAY, I caught up to my NaNo words for the day (hit 6685, might try for more later tonight.)

NOVEMBER 3: ambitious

He sat in the car, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on his own knee. His eyes were on the street across from him. Rain hit the windshield. The wipers slid over the raindrops, sliding them from one side to the other. There was a lone boy out on the street, probably about eleven or twelve. He was in that awkward, gangly stage where he was just starting to grow out of his childish stage. His eyes were big and dark, his hair plastered to his head.

Myung Dae contemplated stealing him. It would be easy right now. But his mind was elsewhere, on his suddenly ambitious partner.

What went through Byeong Chul’s mind when he decided to go to school in earnest? Myung Dae’s eyes narrowed. It came out of nowhere, the request and despite Myung Dae’s earlier protestations, he finally allowed it. He even funded it but sometimes he wondered if he made the wrong choice. After falling into the trap of trusting him, he had to wonder. Was this how he would escape? After all this time… What he didn’t understand was why now. He had plenty of opportunity to run or tattle at this point and still nothing. Was he trying to drive Myung Dae insane with the wondering of it?

The boy across the street had disappeared. The street was now empty, lonely. Only Myung Dae sat in the rain, under the cover of his car. He turned his head, checking the street behind him before he pulled out of his parking spot. What would Byeong Chul do if he came home with a new boy? Without his aid?


Another prompt given to me from Heather at Distant Fantasies. The challenge was to take one word and incorporate it into a scene of no more than four paragraphs. My word was rain.


When he looked down at his hands, he saw nothing but bright red, staining the creases of his palms, congealing between his fingers. Beneath his knee, the other man remained still and silent. Lips were grey, breath no longer drawn. Emil’s lips curved upward in a terrible smile, even as his heart trembled in his chest and his hands began to shake.

“You bastard,” he whispered, staring down at Christian’s unseeing eyes. Petrichor filled the damp air and thunder rumbled in the grey skies. Glued to his back, Emil’s suit jacket felt uncomfortably tight. Something in his chest contracted and he took in a shuddering breath as he leaned back, sitting on his heel.

“You made me do it…” His fists clenched at his sides and he raised his head, closing his eyes as a gust of cool wind rifled through his hair. Even through his closed eyes, he could see the flash of lightning. Another crack of thunder.

The rain started out gentle, kissing his face, sliding over his closed eyes and down his lips. Then it fell in earnest–big, fat droplets slapping his cheeks as he opened his eyes. Raindrops fell from his lashes, from the tips of his hair as he slowly rose. And when he looked down at his hands, the blood had washed away. Emil’s smile disappeared.