Here, we can start with a photo of my writing assistant before we chit chat.

But how are you! Oh, it is so good to see you again. How have I been? Terrible and Wonderful. Depressed and Magnificent. I’m doing ok, thanks for asking. Life changes like the seasons do, and it seems we’re both entering Spring. February was full of change, to my life personally and professionally, and now I’m taking a Wednesday evening to check back in on a blog that I thought I’d be better about updating. I’m not going to promise to be better about it because I’d hate to be a liar, but to show that I’m serious here’s a chunk of dialogue I’ve written recently working on that little book project.

Enjoy!

Starting with word #5418

“I think it’s fucked up that people feel that way about you. I’m sorry Margaret.” He did his best to show sympathy with his eyes, but she knew.

            “Fernando, you don’t need to pretend that you didn’t at least wonder if I was.” Unlike most of what she said tonight, there was nothing flirty or provocative underneath. It was an unloaded, plain statement. He could feel a little disdain in it if anything. That even a near stranger, who was benefiting from her kindness and generosity as she offered up her couch, felt that she could have been evil. Not evil in the over exaggeration of one being cruel, but evil in the sense of the dark gods of the past. “I mean you pause for a bit, like every time I flirt with you a little. I know I’m charismatic and breathtaking,” Margaret managed to find her smile again, “but I get that you’re grappling with what you think you know about me.”

            “Yeah,” Fernando decided that while he may have missed the opportunity to be suave, he wouldn’t miss the chance to be honest with her in a moment of vulnerability, “I’m sorry Margaret. I figured that at worst tonight I may have to run for my life and at best it could be a cute date.” It was the right thing to say, Margaret broke out laughing. Maybe it was the wine, maybe he actually was funny. It could be either. He couldn’t help but laugh with her. Her’s was a hearty, and loud laugh that seemed to bounce from every wall in the apartment.

            “I’m sorry, you felt that a cute dinner date or me killing you was a fair balance to take that risk?” Margaret was stunned, and maybe flattered, “Ferny if I wanted to kill you, I’d never invite you over for dinner. I’d just fucking kill you.” Her tone was clearly flirty, despite the threat.  “You’ve got the self-preservation of a lamb.” She finished her glass, and then got up to find a second bottle. “Like not to be rude here, if you thought I might kill you and you still came over, I’d be able to just kill you.” Her quest succeeded, and she uncorked the bottle she discovered in the fridge. As she walked back to the table, she made sure to stop behind Fernando and get close enough to whisper in his ear, “See?” Her voice slithered into his mind, and chilled Fernando’s spine, “Look how close you let me get to you, without you even thinking about moving away from me.” She kissed his neck, right below his ear. She was right too. There was little difference between him, and a man turned to stone right now. “See? You’re totally out matched.” Margaret mimed stabbing him just in case Fernando didn’t get the point.

            “Fine, you win. I can’t keep up. I was lured in by your beauty, I was willing to cook you dinner, all so you could kill me at the end.” Fernando sighed a defeated sigh, before offering his glass up to be refilled. Margaret obliged.

            “I could have totally killed you with a poison in the wine too, I mean you haven’t even questioned anything I’ve poured for you.” She sat back down before refilling her own glass.

            “No, you’ve been drinking the wine too.”

            “What if in order to get that trust out of my victims, I exposed myself to small amounts of poisons time after time, so that way I could just poison the whole bottle.”

            “Yeah, alright good point.” Margaret smiled with Fernando admitting defeat, but she didn’t gloat about it. In exchange for the refill of wine, Fernando began the process of clearing the tiny table.

            “I’ve got a little projector I can set up if you want to watch a quick movie before you crash. From the poison obviously, not because you’re tired.”

So? Any chemistry here? Criticism always welcome, as long as you aim to be constructive!

Enjoy your days, I’m sure we’ll chat again soon.