Laissez Faire

Letting Life Lead

Yeah Write #68: No More, I’m Done ( #amwriting #flashfiction )


The card-table desk wobbled.

“Mimsy, you idiot.” Claire mumbled at the cat, peeling a stuck test from her forehead. The tabby had been chattering at pigeons and concussed itself on the window, waking Claire on the rebound.

After entering final grades for English Comp 101, she had pressed her face onto the cool papers for a minute in the wee hours. Now, the sun rose high, Paul had left for work, and the celebratory fireball rum and Coke lay untouched in a Slurpee cup. Her man knew better than to wake her and had left a post-it kiss on the lamp.

“Ninety-nine messages? What!?” Claire scrolled through her phone and rammed her shoulder into the kitchen doorway. “That’s it. No more. I’m done.”

Heedless of the flip-flop mismatched with a fluffy slipper, her best suit jacket thrown over a hausfrau t-shirt, and sweatpants, Claire drove across town.  Her mother’s condo was nestled in a middle-income suburb. She bypassed the courtesy buzz-in, keyed herself through, and ignored the turtle-speed elevator.  By the time she reached the sixth floor, taking stairs two and three at a time, she’d run through a hundred ways to kill her mother.

“Mom!” Claire stomped through the Pottery Barn rooms.  Dust bunnies dared not tread in the darkest corner. “Mom!”

“What’s the matter with you?  I was about to call security!” Amanda Senna patted her chest feigning a fainting spell. “Did you leave the house like that?”

“Did I lea–” Claire rubbed her cheeks and puffed a steadying breath. “Mom, you started another flame-war on my wall. You even got Chuck riled enough to comment, and all he ever does is like and share.”

Amanda angled-up her nose and busied herself with dusting pristine surfaces. “What you said was…was ungrateful and insulting. I raised you better.”

“It was a joke about the shell guest soaps in the bathroom!”

“What’s funny about having nice things?”

“All I said was that the soap is older than I am.”

“So? How is it shameful to take care of what I have?”

Claire wiped the curses from her mouth then pressed her palms to her eyes. “I didn’t say that. I didn’t even mention that you never invite over guests.” She waved the phone.  “Right here. All your words; not mine.”

Amanda stepped carefully over vacuum lines and fluffed a pillow. “It’s rude. You’ve always been rude.”

“Mom, it’s soap. It’s not personal.”

“You’re a mess. Do you let Paul see you like this?”

“See, that is personal.” Claire swiped, tapped, and blocked her mother from her wall. For added sanity, she restricted access to cat posts. “And Paul held my hair while I puked after some off Clams Casino. This is a step up. And don’t change the subject.”

Amanda pishawed then rattled off her usual two-minute unintelligible lecture.

“I know what you’re saying; I’ve got an app.” Claire jumped out of the way of a carpet sweeper Amanda used to chase her into the kitchen. “You have to stop overreacting. Not everything is a slight”

A tirade of phrases, punctuated with gestures, was the reply.

“What? I’m the nice one! Who visits you most? Who got you on the computer when everyone else said, ‘hell to the no, are you crazy’?” Claire stole a muffin and apple tart from the kitchen for her troubles. “I’ll even do you a favor and prove it.”

She found the computer in the den and changed the background wallpaper with Amanda watching over and smacking Claire’s shoulder.

“What are you doing? I like that!”

“Mom, you’ve got to listen.  What you have here is not palm trees.” Claire explained through cheeks full of pastry. “Remember ten years ago? Those earrings you bought because you thought they were orchids? It’s like that.”

“Don’t be silly, those are–Oh!” Amanda pressed her hands to her face then crossed herself.

Claire kissed her mother’s cheek. “Just think, you dodged a bullet because you don’t have guests over. No one saw the floating penises.”

“Language!”

“Do you really want me to use another word? I have lots.”

The old woman threw her hands up; her tethered reading glasses fell to her chest. “Tea? I have your favorite.”

“Okay, promise no comments about my hair, weight, or outfit.”

“Child, if I did that, I’d be a liar.”

“No more.” The hamster wheel turned and Claire threw back her head. “I’m done. Bring on the tea.”

Later, at home there would be rum.

Advertisements

6 comments on “Yeah Write #68: No More, I’m Done ( #amwriting #flashfiction )

  1. unfoldingfromthefog
    May 11, 2017

    Two more great characters! Those “guest” soaps were really a thing, weren’t they? I was a little confused who was talking on the part where Amanda is muttering, but I got it when I reread.

    You’re work always sounds to me like an excerpt from a novel I’d like to read. Are you writing one?

    Liked by 1 person

    • Laissez Faire
      May 12, 2017

      I am writing one that is in the horror genre, but I am having terrible trouble getting it done. Stalled is an understatement.

      Thanks for reading and commenting. I will have to come back to this piece as it isn’t quite right

      I still have one of those soaps lost in a drawer somewhere. My family put them in dressers to make them smell nice. LOL

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Michael
    May 12, 2017

    These characters were awesome, and so vivid. The paragraph where Claire gets dressed and runs across town…brilliant. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Laissez Faire
      May 12, 2017

      Thanks! I wish I had had the time to chisel it out more. But I am glad that my verbose description of that part stood out. 🙂 I may have gotten carried away. LOL

      Liked by 1 person

  3. saroful
    May 12, 2017

    There’s a lot of fantastic detail in here. So much that the story almost gets lost at times. If you go back and edit, there’s probably three stories here jostling each other for space. Picking one and dialing back the number of adjectives you use will help you get that focus. I love that the characters fight and reconcile without really addressing the issues underlying the fight and it would be neat to explore that moment a little more. I’m more torn on the bit when they’re actually fighting where we get Claire’s super-clear dialogue and her mother just gets the Charlie Brown parent voice. It can be well done, but it feels like you didn’t quite commit to it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Laissez Faire
      May 12, 2017

      Hey, thanks for the feedback! This story just was the result of having an hour or two pull it together — and it didn’t get at pause, reflect, and edit treatment.

      I had intended to go back and fix the dialogue with the mother with some colorful non-pc phrases I heard growing up (it’s not a common language outside my homecity)…but I just didn’t get a chance to ask a friend to help me translate, and the Charlie Brown teacher solution didn’t have the right…something. 🙂 You are spot on as always.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Email Subscribe and Support

Subscribe to Tara Writes at LaissezFaireLife.com Want to support me? Become a Patreon
pinterest-button Follow LaissezFaireLife on Twitter google feedburner
Follow Laissez Faire on WordPress.com

Get blog updates by Worpdress via email, or choose Mailchimp.

Join 1,422 other followers

Shop With Me!

My Reviews

Shop and Read My Reviews

Aspiring writer, wife, mother of two, owner two cats. Teacher, lover of science, books, science fiction, fantasy, and video games.

Categories

Visit My Fellowship

prettyflyforawhitemom

"Our subject isn't cool, but [s]he fakes it anyway."- The Offspring

Blissful Scribbles

Musings through the journey of writing my first novel

ZEN AND PI

It is what it is and it too shall pass.

Unfolding From the Fog

Unfolding From the Fog (or What I Think About When I Walk My Dog)

tibetan lemonade

When life hands you lemons, go find some gin and tonic.

J Edward Benoit

"Smile with your teeth." -my Mother

Sreeblogs

Don't die before your death

Schnippelboy

Ein Tagebuch unserer Alltagsküche-Leicht nachkochbar

Happily Hostile

Failures in Adulting

%d bloggers like this: