What follows is my answer to the Trifecta challenge: to submit a piece of writing, any style, any subject, that is between 333 and 3,333 words. This comes in at just over 1800 words. This is probably R rated – likely not something you would let your kiddos read. With that warning, I give you Sweet Cheeks.

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Laci paid for the taxi, then walked into the noisy bar. Her eyes swept the room and she felt annoyed with how quickly they began to smart and tear in the hazy smokiness.

THWACK! A group of 3 men circled a tall barroom table. They burst into loud laughter while one massaged his shoulder which had a beefy hand clasped upon it. Laci nodded briefly and continued into the room.

A typical small town bar, this place had all the mixed ambience of an ashtray and an outhouse. The walls were painted in a flat, matte black – covered with the tattered remnants of posters nearly as old as her parents.
(more…)

A thin girl with dreads sat in the corner of the coffee shop strumming a guitar. People nearby drinking coffee, ignore the empty hat on the floor.

The words she sang dug into their souls, try as they might to keep them out.

I would die – I would kill for you

Disturbing images – cast aside in today’s “I can’t be bothered” society.

A woman walks forward, touches the girl’s shoulder, offers her a sandwich and a ten dollar bill.

I give these to you because I believe in you.

The girl accepted the gifts. Her smile lit the room.
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The above is written for Lance and LeeRoy’s 100 wordsong challenge: #1 Crush from Garbage.

My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

Brother Michael’s black rosary beads slipped through his fingers; his breviary open to evening devotions. Yet Michael’s thoughts wandered.

This epicurean life at the monastery was what he’d wanted when he was younger. He thought God would bless his gift to Him, the things he had given up for Him.

But tonight his soul was in conflict. He had tossed and turned last night in his austere cell. Dreams grabbed at him and taunted him with their realness. He awoke tasting forbidden nectars.

Brother Francis promised fish again tonight. Michael felt he might sell his soul for a porterhouse steak.
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VV has challenged us again . . . this week her chosen word is EPICUREAN. Really? EPICUREAN??? Think minimalist. Think frugality. Think giving up the “precious.” Yeah, that is where my head went. And, then I got carnal. What would a man miss the most? Women? Maybe. Cigarettes? Perhaps. STEAK??? Oh, if he was a midwestern boy, why yes ma’am, he would miss that steak. Yum.

A gasp. A long series of tones.

Only the granddaughter doesn’t cry. “She talked to angels, you know.”

“Jilly, don’t start that again. Gram was in a lot of pain.”

“No, Mom. She talked to angels. I think they talked to her, too.”

. . . . . . . .

Gram smiled, looked at Michael and said, “That’s my Jilly. Talk to her, won’t you? Give her strength?”

Michael cupped his hand over Jilly’s heart, nodding when the girl’s lips turned upwards.

He escorted Gram away, leaving the family in the light of Jilly’s new smile.

“Thanks, Gram. Guess it’s my turn to talk to angels now.”

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Lance challenged us this week with She Talks to Angels by Black Crowes.

I’d like to think that our spirit lives on in our families – the ability to talk to angels being one of those sweet rewards. Yeah, I know the theology is off, but there ya go.

His mama would have enjoyed opening her baby shower presents and having cake with all of us, but he had other ideas.

Master G.K. could wait no longer to arrive.

Happy birthday, nephew!
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July 20, 1969: Neil Armstrong stepped on the moon and my nephew leapt out of his mama’s womb. Both were “earth” shaking events. Today he is a police captain in Texas.
🙂
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This weekend Trifecta’s editors honor the first steps of Neil Armstrong and asked us to write of some monumental leap. I’ve been talking all day about my nephew’s birth. What a great way to honor him while remembering that great day for “all mankind.”