101 things I dislike

Throwback to 2016 when I wrote this list. It’s been a long time, and I updated it somewhat — not a lot.

Can you relate?

Without fear of being judged (read: with near panic like fear of being judged) I will try to come up with 101 things I don’t like.

1. The colour orange

2. Flying

3. The cold weather

4. Snow

5. Chocolate

6. Ketchup

7. Christmas songs and decorations in November

8. Waiting

9. Being ordered around

10. People who don’t say thank you

11. Rude people

12. Unanswered questions

13. Lemon

14. birds

15. Feathers

16. The sound of my alarm clock

17. Being tickled

18. Being taken for granted

19. Negative people

20. Emotional vampires

21. Instruments that are out of tune

22. Cocky people

23. Jealousy

24. Drivers not setting the turn signal

25. Wondering if my English is good enough and if others understand what I am trying to say

26. Doubting myself

27. People who make lots of noise when they are eating (!! Important one)

28. Fruit

29. Killing animals – even flies

30. Not being taken seriously

31. People who aren’t getting the job done right

32. Belching

33. The smell of vomit

34. Touching door handles in public spaces

35. Not seeing anything at a concert

36. Payment declined – for no reason

37. Forgetting my pin code

38. Water touching my ears (anything touching my ears)

39. Swimming

40. Crowds

41. Ignorance

42. The smell of cold smoke

43. Sprite or any sweet beverage

44. Anything bitter

45. Having a stuffed nose

46. Being surprised

47. Offering presents

48. Shopping for clothes

49. Animals

50. Meat

51. Saying goodbye

52. Deadlines

53. Gory horror movies

54. Going to church

55. Thinking about negative things

56. Mess left by the kids after eating nuts or grains

57. Jazz

58. Musicals

59. Long fingernails

60. Not having enough sleep

61. Chanel no 5

62. Visiting a home for disabled people

63. The sound of chalk on a blackboard

64. Expensive rents or mortgages

65. Working in a garden

66. Sketching, drawing, painting

67. Pens that aren’t working

68. Coffee with sugar

69. My double chin

70. Milk

71. Hairy feet

72. Star wars

73. Harry Potter

74. Lord of the rings

75. The way eyes itch from allergies

76. Almonds and nuts

77. Bread (with the exception of French baguette)

78. No toilet paper when I am on the loo

79. Autocorrect

80. Forgetting to save my work when I just wrote 500+ words

81. 0 likes on stories or poems I thought turned out great; 21 likes on mediocre poems or stories

82. Questions with obvious answers

83. Gossip

84. Talking bad behind someone’s back

85. Losing track of people who once were an important part of my life

86. Wasting time (mine and the time of others too)

87. Forgetting things

88. Broken promises

89. Being unable to speak straight sentences lately (stuttering, not finding the right words)

90. Dentists

91. Being late (me or people being late)

92. Being intense

93. Migraines

94. Fishing for more things I dislike

95. No network or wifi

96. Social media knows everything about us (bye bye Facebook)

97. Being watched while crying

98. Being stared at

99. Not knowing how other people are seeing me

100. Oranges

101. That I found 100 things I dislike…

Are you surprised? Why? Now, what do you think?

Upside Down 3 – Hello roomie

Josh drank a sip of his coffee, but it didn’t taste right. He took a bite out of his toast, but that too felt like ashes in his mouth. How was he supposed to tell this woman that he left his father and that he didn’t have any money? She would kill him on the spot, of that he had no doubt.

“Tell me about yourself. We should get a little acquainted,” Milly offered. Josh shrugged. He wasn’t a man of words and didn’t know what to say. The woman and the gun made him nervous.

“I’m a doctor. Well, I will be. Specialising in traumatology.” Milly had suspected as much from the books on Josh’s shelves.

“Impressive,” Milly acknowledged. It was the first time she saw a ghost of a smile on Josh’s face. But as soon as it appeared, it vanished again.

The front door rattled and was opened with a bursting laugh. It was slammed shut and into the living room came a man who was all over a girl. They were barely able to contain themselves. Milly pointed the gun at them. She didn’t have time for this.

“Roommate,” Josh yelled and held his hands up in a surrendering manner. Josh’s roommate, Henry, looked up from the woman he was devouring.

“Whoa… Easy with that thing, baby.” Milly groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Shut it and sit on the couch. Hands to yourselves,” Milly ordered and waited for Henry and his conquest to sit. “Stutter, fetch our shoes and coats. We are leaving.” Josh was paralysed, he didn’t move. “Now, dammit!” Josh was tempted to throw a knife at her or lounge himself at her, but he didn’t dare. She was dangerous and unpredictable. Not a good combination. He rushed to obey, hearing Milly talk to Henry.

Henry snickered. “Stutter,” he said under his breath shaking his head with a grin.

“Name?”

“Henry. And she is…,” he shrugged. He had already forgotten the girl’s name.

“Listen carefully, Henry. I am going to take Joshy with me. Got it? You can call the police, but then I will be back to kill you, you understand, right? His daddy is loaded, and I will ask for a nice piece of the cake.” Milly was satisfied with herself and her plan. Self-sufficient she sat down.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, You must be wrong. If he had money, he wouldn’t live here,” Henry waved his hands around for emphasis. He was intimidated but not afraid. Henry was a brave man; and he was sure he could overpower this woman, get hold of the gun and turn the situation around. He could be a hero for the girl who was ugly crying next to him.

Josh returned, shaking his head in Henry’s direction as if he had been reading his thoughts. Both men watched Milly tie the laces of her boots. The gun lay on the coffee table. Henry took it in a swift motion, stood his ground and pointed it at Milly.

“You better leave,” Henry threatened her.

Milly got up slowly. “Not without him!” She grabbed Josh’s wrist with a bruising grip.

“Let him go, and I will not hurt you,” Henry felt brave. Milly snorted. She knew if she had wanted it, she would have gotten her gun back by now and she would have shot the two witnesses. But she wasn’t out for blood. She just needed money to get away from her current life.

“Josh, do something! Don’t stand there like a wimp,” Henry shouted. He didn’t understand why Josh didn’t move. Was a tall and fit man, there was no reason why he didn’t overwhelm the woman, or why he didn’t fight her. Josh didn’t know either, but his guts told him to do as Milly said.

Milly turned to leave, pulling Josh behind him. “Keys, Stutter. Do you have a car?”

Josh nodded. In the parking garage.

“Stop!” Henry yelled. Milly turned to look at him and flipped him the bird. A deafening noise went off. Henry looked in shock at the barrel of the gun in his hand and threw the weapon away. Josh looked in shock because Milly had reacted fast enough to push him behind her. Milly grinned. Henry’s conquest screamed. Too many emotions in a small living room.

Milly went to retrieve the gun and put it in her jacket. “Let’s go,” she said to Josh, and they ran for the stairs. For a moment she wondered if Josh had ulterior motives to come with her. He could have easily outrun her. But he didn’t. In fact, he held doors for her and led the way to his car. Milly held her side and winced when she got into the vehicle. Henry had hit her.

“Where to?” Josh enquired.

“Just drive,” Milly ordered through clenched teeth. She had to gather her wits for what was to come.

crippling self-doubt

Yesterday I posted a chapter (admittedly everything there is) of a thing I called Upside Down. I wrote those words late, and I was quite tired by then. I am sure there are a couple of mistakes and errors in there… But as a faithful reader, you are aware that every post has at least one typo. Be it as it may… I am not sure how to proceed and if anyone who follows this blog wants to read things like that. My overthinking and self-doubting self is a bother again. I am not expecting an answer because in the end I will do whatever seems right to me and comes naturally. If you say yes, I pressure myself too much. If you say no, I doubt myself and my capacities as a writer. You can’t win. I cannot either.

I am a tired woman wearing bright green pants (with huge white flowers – hideous pants) who is seriously considering giving Milly Baker and Josh Weller a backstory and making their characters come alive. The last names were a spur of the moment thing.

Thanks for letting me vomit my self-doubt on your screen. I could go on and on about it… But who wants to read that?! And I don’t want to write it.

Thank you for your time.

Cathy

Heatwave – mature content

The heat, it got to her. She had always had a healthy sex-drive, but this here right now was a lot, even for her standards. She felt insatiable. Always in the mood.

Naked as she was, she let the light breeze, that found a way into her bedroom, caress her skin. It was as if her lover was gently tracing her nooks and folds and crannies with his tongue. She closed her eyes and arched her back. This felt good. Her hands knew where to go on their own. No explanation needed. One hand massaged her breast and played with her nipples, while the other hand traveled south. Legs spread wide, she didn’t waste time. Too good. She was wet. Not moist; no, dripping wet. The sound her body made as her fingers entered her spurred her on. She needed it. Right then. Right there. The smell of her own sex engulfed her and laid a thin veil over her senses, blocking out her environment. Sweat was covering her; droplets rolling down and pooling between her breasts. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue moaning deep within her throat. Almost there. She didn’t take her time, didn’t prolong the explosion that was at the tips of her fingers. Her legs were shaking. Ragged breath. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes were closed. More. More. More of this. Her hips moved on their own accord, trying to find more friction. The tingling that had started inside of her was spreading fast. She threw her head back with another moan. Her back was arched, her hair was drenched in sweat. Pulling her legs back to reach more; to enter herself deeper. It was there, she felt the wave coming. Ready to let her lose her mind.

Another touch startled her. Not her own hands. They ruined her orgasm. Calloused, male hands. Asking for permission to continue what she had started. She took her hand from her pussy, tasting her own lust with a sly grin. Eyes meeting eyes. Dilated pupils didn’t hide their carnal desires. The sensation of his hands on her was too much to bear. He knew how to push her buttons. He knew exactly how to read her body. What had started slow and casual was building up again. She was biting her hand to keep herself from screaming out her lust, but he didn’t allow it. He demanded to hear her. And there it was. The right touch. The right pressure. Too fast. Too soon. Her entire body tensed. She stopped breathing. And the heat swallowed her from within. Sensitive to his touch, she tried to move away, but he was not done. The night was young and it was too hot to sleep anyway…

untitled flash fiction 20180701 or With you, I want to live

“Do you ever think about suicide? About ending it all? Just vanishing? Being gone? Not existing at all?” he asked, avoiding making eye-contact. He took a sip of his coffee and looked at the people on the other side of the street. She didn’t answer. She didn’t know how. “I do,” he continued. “I think about it. All the time. Not about death itself, but how to make it easier for those around. And I wonder what they will say and who will miss me.” Their eyes briefly met, before he averted his gaze and looked at the clouds in his coffee. “I would miss you,” she croaked, cleared her throat and repeated the same words in a steadier voice. “Why?” he whispered. “Why” was a question that often made his life unnecessarily hard. That three-letter word made him dread and anticipate answers, all at once. “Because the thought of not having you close to me breaks me inside. The void you would leave would swallow me.” Tears welled up in his eyes. He didn’t want to make a scene, but she had a thing with words; always finding the words that forced his emotions to explode. “If you were gone, I would probably follow you. There is nothing keeping me here. If it wasn’t for you, I would not be here,” she whispered sadly. He didn’t know how to react and how to respond. He just covered her hand with his trembling one. She looked at their hands, then she lifted her head to look into his face – into his eyes. “Please don’t leave me behind,” she begged. “Never,” he replied. “I love you too much.” She nodded, wiping the corner of her eye. A tear was threatening to ruin her makeup. Lately, she had thought about taking her own life a lot. She led a happy life, but something dark was clawing at her thoughts. Something devastating was fraying the edges of her fragile soul. Holding on was much more exhausting than she would have ever thought. Why was living and staying alive so easy for most people? Why was it so hard for her? And him too. “Let’s promise each other to stay alive together for as long as we can. There are reasons to stay alive, right? If I remind you of them, and you me, we will be okay.” On the other side of the street, a toddler was crying in his stroller. From her point of view, it looked as if he didn’t like being strapped tightly in the stroller without any means to break free. “Freedom is just an illusion. A creation of the mind. The emotional cage we are living in is a creation of the mind too. It either helps us to stay sane, or we will break and grow insane.” He tilted his head to the side and took a sip of his coffee. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time. He had been too busy with his own thoughts, missing that she was not alright either. “Depression is a selfish bastard,” he thought out loud, taking his hand back. “We should go,” she ignored his statement, got up from her chair and put her bag over her shoulder. He stood next to her, kissed her forehead and let his hand find hers. She looked up at him. The affection in her eyes made his heart race. “I love you,” he blurted out. He had never said the words before, but they had never been this true and important to share either. A genuine beaming smile appeared on her face. She didn’t reciprocate his words. She didn’t have to; he felt her love wafting off her skin. Being alive wasn’t so bad, if he was allowed to do it with her.

Say something

If my sun isn’t rising, it is because the flames in my soul are burning my sins.

I dream awake and try to find answers that are tattooed under my skin.

And every time the rain hides my tears, there is an explosion within.

Without asking, you took myself away from me, and I don’t know where I’ve been.

Redeem my sins. Tattoo your love on my skin, and spark explosions within. Tell me where you’ve been. I am waiting for you to say somethin’.