Welcome to October, my friendly readers. The weather is turning cooler, leaves are turning, acorns falling…*happy sigh* that's a whole lot of goodness for me. I don't know about you, but it was one helluva hot summer here in Texas.
In the spirit of the turning of the season and rapidly-approaching Hallows Eve, there will be a bit of mystery in the blog room. Story Orgy has decided to have a full month of Paranormal Prompt Play. So, kick back with your coffee, hot tea or apple cider (or whatever your favorite beverage is) and enjoy the twisting, turning Paranormal Prompt Play: "A Tabled Affair pt. 4" as Damian deals with a struggle within.
This week's installment is written according to the inspiration I received from the picture selected by Story Orgy's photography guru and image extraordinaire. Much thanks to Jade Basier for her yummy good taste in eye candy. Pssst…by the way, it's Jade's birthday this week so stop by her place and give her some loving *Blows kisses to my Princess*.
C'mon, follow me. When we finish here, we'll just jump on over to my comrades' blogs and see what they've been up to this week. Whatever it is, I bet it's a whole bunch of goodness.
And now for A Tabled Affair part 4…
A Tabled Affair part 4
Still livid from a recent visit from Danny, Damian kicked up a dropped towel with his foot, caught it in midair and tossed it into the washer. He'd discovered long ago that doing laundry helped ease his mind, giving him time to think. Fucking Danny. Who the hell does he think he is anyway? Damian couldn't believe Danny had the audacity to tell him to stay away from Mauricio.
"I am not a bad influence." He added the detergent and the fabric softener, closed the lid and stomped back to the kitchen.
Damian searched the room. "Where did I put my fucking drink this time?" He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Nightstand. He walked down the hall toward his bedroom, straightening picture frames along the way.
Through clamped jaws and clenched teeth, Damian spoke to no one in particular, burying his fist into the palm of his hand. "I could just smash his face in."
No, Damian. That is not the way to handle this. A familiar voice spoke to Damian. Comforting, reassuring him. The voice was so real, so clear. "Ms. Feagley? Is that you?" A bit mystified by how clear the internal voice seemed, Damian continued his walk to the bedroom.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Damian downed the last of the Scotch he'd poured earlier and placed the glass back on the nightstand. "Am I going crazy?"
No, Damian. You're not crazy. Just lay back and relax.
Damian gave in to the soothing voice in his head. Snuggling up to his feather pillow, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Damian rolled over and hit the snooze button on the alarm clock and continued lazing. "Oh shit!" His feet hit the floor in a panic. He had a date and did not want to miss it.
"Oh please please please." Damian quickly slipped on his white swim shorts before realizing he'd set the hotel alarm clock thirty minutes fast."Pfft. I have plenty of time." He took a deep breath, slathered on some sunscreen, grabbed his keycard and headed for the beach.
Damian wiggled his toes into the sand and turned his face toward the light, enjoying the warmth from the rays as they soaked into his skin.
"You get better looking each day."
Damian's heart skipped a beat then, spinning on his heels he drilled holes into the sand. "There you are, you sexy beast." Damian scuttled across the sand and pressed his body against Mauricio's. And with one single kiss set Damian's skin on fire.
It wasn't but seconds later and Damian was sprawled on the sand, his head resting in Mauricio's lap. His eyes drifted shut to the gentle waves crashing. And the loving words from Mauricio.
"You are my dream come true."
Damian pried his eyes open to a mere squint, his vision slowly adjusting to the bright sunlight beaming through the crack in the curtains of his room. Mauricio's voice resonated in his head, my dream come true.
Damian, putting his feet to the floor, shook his head to get rid of the echoing words. He went to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. But to no avail the words lingered. Lifting his head from the sink, he fixed his eyes on his reflection in the mirror as the voice in his head began to change. A gradual merge of two distinct voices, shifting from Mauricio's to Ms. Feagley's.
I'm here for you. Always will be.
Staring at the image in the mirror, Damian saw a glimmer in his eyes. A glow around his head. He'd heard of people having aura, but this?
Follow your heart.
The gentle voice in Damian's head somehow spoke to his very being, reconnecting his mind to his heart.
Ms. Feagley…Ms. Feagley. Damian repeated the name in his head several times then remembered the business card she had given him. He grabbed the empty glass off the nightstand and walked toward the kitchen on autopilot, deep in thought. After pouring a fresh glass of Scotch, he pilfered through his wallet. There it is. He laid the card on the table, sat, and stared.
It's not me you should be calling, the voice said. Damian glanced around; positive someone should be standing there talking to him. He shook his head then reached a trembling hand to touch the card. A sigh filtered through his mind and impatience flowed through him like his blood was on fire.
Damian jumped up from his chair and retrieved the cordless phone from the charging station and sat back down. Connecting the voice with his recent dream, Damian dug through his wallet for another business card. The one he picked up at Mauricio's massage parlor.
"Fuck Danny and his stupid antics to keep me from Mauricio." Damian dialed the number and drew a deep breath.
Three rings and Mauricio's voice came on the line. "Hello."
"I'm sorry for not showing up the other day."
"Did you take care of your business?" Mauricio's disappointment rang clear in his tone, tugging at Damian's heartstrings.
"Yes." Tears rolled down Damian's face, his bottled up emotions almost choking him. "Can I come over? I need to see you."
"Of course you can come over, Damian. You're always welcome." The soft inflection of Mauricio's tone soothed Damian's nerves.
"Let me take a shower and I'll–"
No, Damian. The mystical directive was unwavering.
"You know what? Never mind." Damian swiped the tears from his cheeks. "I'll be there soon. I'm leaving now."
Damian put the receiver back on the charger, dumped his Scotch down the drain, grabbed his keys and wallet then out the door he went.
You're learning. The voice inside Damian's head was hopeful.
Damian got into his car and shut the door, thinking how crazy it was for him to be listening- and talking to the voice in his head. "You and I need to talk."
Damian? What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? *Ahem* Okay, it looks like my boys have a little bit of catching up to do. We'll leave them alone for a while and we'll just cruise on by the other blogs and see what's happening. C'mon…follow me click.