It’s time for @mariannewest’s #weekendfreewrite!! The Weekend Freewrite involves utilising three prompts to make up a little story, only you’re not to look at all the prompts in advance. One at a time, 5-minutes at a time, and weave ’em in! 😉
My header image is courtesy of Pixabay!
And onward to story time!
Greta thought that she was going to a year-round playground. Xavier knew better.
He offered his hand with a charming smile.
“The Great Municipality awaits, m’dear,” he purred. Purred? he thought to himself, men don’t purr! He cleared his throat and continued, “Everything is free, free, free! All paid for in advance by our anonymous donor. Oh, you’ll enjoy it so much. Wine, food, music, cheer, all hours of the night! It’s a pure playground for adults. And you get to stay for the entire year!”
“Oh, it sounds wonderful, darling.”
Greta squeezed his hand. He returned the squeeze and motioned to the waiting helicopter.
“Your transport awaits, m’dear.”
Greta paused and squeezed his hand again.
“You said that I get to stay for the entire year… aren’t you coming too?”
“Unfortunately the anonymous donor paid for you, and only you. It will cost millions for me to join in with such revelries! Enjoy your time. I’ll hold the fort.”
Greta offered a shaky nod and climbed onto the helicopter. Xavier waved as it rose into the air and darted across the sky. Now it was time for part two of the plan.
~ ~ ~ ~
Albert’s hair was the colour of poached salmon. Xavier wrinkled his nose as the younger man sidled up to him. His hair was god-awful.
“Is mum gone?” Albert inquired with the voice of a rasping seagull choking on a fish.
“Yes,” Xavier sniffed, turning to watch as the last hint of the helicopter disappeared beyond the distant horizon. “You need to dye your hair.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my hair, old man,” Albert snapped. “Come, back to the house.”
Xavier followed Albert into the house they shared with Greta and raised an eyebrow as he pressed a button against his ear, a button that was hidden by his poached-salmon-hair.
The bookshelf opened and they both stepped inside.
“Odd place to put the entry key, Al.”
“Nonsense. The only way people will enter is over my dead body,” Albert smirked.
“Indeed,” Xavier murmured, staring at the man’s head-button before that horrible hair fell over it again and concealed it.
There were numerous monitors and screens in the room.
~ ~ ~ ~
She was coming home drunk. She was on the monitor! Why the hell was she back at all? Xavier leapt up and grabbed Albert, shaking his weedy little body with the strength of a hundred bears.
“She’s back! You said that she would have a fatal accident in The Great Municipality. You said that Donnie Donor had it all under control!”
“P-p-pu-t m-m-ee d-d-ow-n,” Albert demanded.
Xavier dropped him to the ground and fell back into the seat with his head in his hands.
“Now,” Albert cleared his throat, not that it fixed his raspy seagull choking on a fish voice. “If you would kindly watch the monitor…” then ran a hand through his salmon-coloured hair, revealing a tiny black button beside the honking red button that opened the bookshelf room door.
He pressed it. His hair fell off.
“God damn it!” he shouted. “Wrong button. Hold on.”
“I think it’s an improvement,” Xavier chuckled.
There was another button beside the black button. Without any hair, his whole head was covered in buttons. Xavier watched as the kid pressed the next black button. But saw no more as the bookshelf-room went up in flames.