Medicine

After three attempts—breakfast, lunch, and dinner—my husband went to bed alive and well, even demanding sex before he eventually passed out.

Immediately, I dial the apothecary.

The poison didn’t work!” I say a pitch above whispering.

“These things take time.”

“But he’s not even sick!” I glance down to ensure he’s still asleep. His shoulders rise and fall at an even rhythm.

“A stronger dose may be necessary.”

“I’ve paid you a fortune!”

“Half-priced this time!”

Weary of her promises, I hang up, decide to take the matter into my own hands, press the pillow over his face.

© Nortina Simmons

Morning Inspiration: Writing Prompt No. 71

This is your morning inspiration! Let your mind be inspired by today’s prompt and awaken your will to write. It doesn’t have to be a complete story. It doesn’t even have to be a complete thought. The challenge is simply to get those creative juices flowing, kickstart a new day of writing, and discover the talented artist within.

This Morning’s Prompt

The poison didn’t work…

31 Days of Halloween Hooligans

A few years ago, I started a series on my blog called 31 Days of Holiday Hooligans. It was my blog’s equivalent of Freeform’s 25 Days of Christmas and Lifetime and Hallmark Channel’s yearly blitz of sappy holiday-themed movies starting around Thanksgiving (and some years sooner).

Every December, I would post short stories and poems featuring all kinds of holiday shenanigans.

I use the term “hooligan” loosely, of course, for the purpose of alliteration. The holiday fun doesn’t get that wild…usually…

This year I’ve decided to bring the challenge to my second-favorite time of year: spooky season, aka, Halloween! As a girl who loves ghost stories and anything monster (vampires, werewolves, mummies, oh my!), I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this sooner!

So, every day during the month of October, I’ll post something spooky, something paranormal, something suspenseful, something that would surely give you a fright!

Or not—I never said I was good at scaring people. I write mostly romance, after all.

If you’d like to join the fun, just tag your post “31 Days of Halloween Hooligans” so I can come find you in the Reader (sorry I can’t think of anything shorter).

The haunting starts October 1. See you then!

Or should I say scare you then, hehehe…

—Nortina

Bad Decisions

He texted me that he had a treat. Silly of me to think that it was anything that would give me pleasure.

I’m too old to be on the floor—joints still popping when I return to my house hours later. And was it so hard just to do it in the bed? I’d disappear under the covers, lay my face in his lap. But then, he likes to tower over me, watch me be submissive.

Dick.

I slam my keys on the kitchen counter, open the refrigerator, and stand there half expecting something to have changed since I last looked this morning. I stretch my neck. My jaw is still tight, my lips raw. When I burp, I taste him.

I shut the door and take two fiery red cinnamon-flavored gum sticks out of my purse and suck on them between my tongue and the roof of my mouth.

Suck. Poor choice of words. Too soon.

It’s hard to swallow—my throat still sore. He grabbed the back of my head and forced me down the length of him. The least he could’ve done was warn me before—

I dive for the sink, dry heave over the drain for a solid five minutes until my sides hurt. If only I can regurgitate the rest of him out of me before the seed takes root, leaves me planted here to rot forever.

© Nortina Simmons 


Originally published September 29, 2017

 

The bridesmaid

This is my sixth wedding this year. Apparently, all my girlfriends from university have found their ever after.

All but me.

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

I’ll try not to be so cynical when I give my toast tomorrow. Besides, Janeane’s my best friend, and after the shit Marco put her through junior year, she deserves it more than anyone.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if this guy is the one.

Especially since he’s lying naked in my bed the night before the wedding.

Just like the others—before they rose the next morning and married someone else.

© Nortina Simmons

Morning Inspiration: Writing Prompt No. 69

female legs and magazine

This is your morning inspiration! Let your mind be inspired by today’s prompt and awaken your will to write. It doesn’t have to be a complete story. It doesn’t even have to be a complete thought. The challenge is simply to get those creative juices flowing, kickstart a new day of writing, and discover the talented artist within.

This Morning’s Prompt

female legs and magazine

Always a bridesmaid…

Foreign affair

As I board the private plane for America, I glance back at the medieval castle where I lived in luxury for nearly six months.

I guess I should thank him for banishing me in style, a departing gift as he exiles me back to a trailer in an overgrown lot, a drunkard grandfather, and a minimum wage job that will barely keep the two of us fed.

Three of us now.

The future queen is barren. I leave with the satisfaction that she will never give him an heir.

And when the time comes, my son will be a king.

© Nortina Simmons

Morning Inspiration: Writing Prompt No. 68

woman in red long sleeved dress sitting and leaning on a brick wall

This is your morning inspiration! Let your mind be inspired by today’s prompt and awaken your will to write. It doesn’t have to be a complete story. It doesn’t even have to be a complete thought. The challenge is simply to get those creative juices flowing, kickstart a new day of writing, and discover the talented artist within.

This Morning’s Prompt

woman in red long sleeved dress sitting and leaning on a brick wall

My son will be a king…

Thoughts while standing in line for coffee

topless man with black hair and suspenders

I love a man with long hair. Loose or loc’d—it doesn’t matter. As long as he can throw it up into a messy bun, I’m his. All his.

I would gladly bear his children.

“Excuse me, miss?”

The way he rubs his goatee, stares at me with those piercing brown eyes, I worry he may have heard my thoughts.

Good, that voice in my head says, cut to the chase.

He bends down and I lose my nerve. “Not in public!” I squeal.

“I’m sorry?” He hands me my pen. “You dropped this.”

I just might pee on myself.

© Nortina Simmons