Stories, FB-challange

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To promote Veronicas very cool creation (as seen above and in her shop here) I promised everyone who would share it would get a personalized story (if they wanted one).
So here are the first ones, plus one of mine, ego you know.

//JMS


 

The model (for Ellinor)

The constant traveling, walking down the catwalk, the endless parties started to take their toll on her. Ellinor liked to be a model, she got to travel and see the world, from Paris to Istanbul, Milan and then New York.

She had just arrived to Craiova, a smaller City as fashion goes, but that suited her fine, she needed some down time, time to gather her thoughts, she needed some fresh air.

She had headed out from the hotel situated right in the old center, after writing a few autographs, giving a quick smile she left. Letting her steps direct her without any specific destination or goal, she just walked down the crowded sidewalks, aimlessly.

Passing a restaurant, feeling the chilling air, she decided to step in, having something warm to drink, perhaps a hot chocolate.

It was about half full, or half empty, as you wish to see it, and that was fine for her. However, being the famous model she was, she still got the odd greeting from some tables, and another autograph to sign, but she took it in her stride.

Sitting down, ordering her preferred liquid, she thought about how quick things had happened. From a talent scouts “Hello”, to becoming what must be considered the quintessential model of the decade, she sipped the chocolate and smiled to herself.


The blogger in the city (for Mirela)

Mirela raised her hand to wave down a taxi, seeing someone she thought she recognized, but she had to put that passing thought out of her mind, as other more important things needed her attention. The taxi had turned around and now stood waiting for her. She navigating the puddles that the last melting snow had left on the street and got in the taxi.

“The philarmonics, and step on it.”

“Sure thing,” the taxi driver replied, flipping the taximeter and off they went.

It did not take more than 5 minutes to reach their destination, but that gave Mirela enough time to go through what she needed to do.

She had managed to get a well known orchestra to play in Craiova, so well known in fact that I don’t even need to mention their name, you will know who they are. But of course the invitation was only the first step, she also had to prepare the introduction for their performance, arrange accommodation and a 100 other tasks. She did not mind, she was on top of the game, with all those things and helping to put the Craiova blogging community on the map.

The taxi mad a quick turn and stopped, she handed him 5 lei, and jumped out of the car. The phone started ringing, and before she had gone the 100 meters to the entrance of the philarmonics, she had already set up two new projects for the bloggers and maybe a new opera from a talented new composer.

She stepped up the stairs, opened the door and dove right into the job of making Craiova the city it deserves to be.


 

Banality (for my ego)

Magnus walked through a forest of banality, seeing his own face staring back at him, reflected from every tree and crevasse. He did not give this fact much thought, he just observed his own reflection, obscured by preconceptions, and smiled back at it, with a recognising smile.
He stumbled across logs, hidden rocks and slippery mud, faltering but never falling, his legs just would not let him. His own mirror image kept watching him with its non-descriptive, bland expression, the one that never changed.
Finally out of the woods, he looked back and saw only a single tree that never managed to reached the sky it so long had reached for. Now only a broken and dead piece of wood that had manage to hide what it once was, behind its greying surface.
He shook his head at the sight, shrugged his shoulders and turned around, and as he did the tree finally gave up and with a swishing sound, it fell apart, turned from form to dust. In just a fraction of a millisecond the air molecules kept the shape and then that was also gone.
Before him lay the city, spreading out and spreading up before him. A place where concrete grew, a place to call home, where every particle of pollution greeted him as a friend, the asphalt sang to his feet, the feet that now guided him, making him the passenger of his own extremities.


A serial killer Tango (for Sandra)

Sandra wiped the knife clean, just having left another dead body behind her.
She picked up the decapitated head by its hair and walked out of the house, the jagged remains of a once living mind continued to bleed profusely, leaving a river trail of blood behind her. At the front gate she stopped, lifted up the head and pressed it down with great care on one of the wrought iron spikes. She twisted the silently screaming head to face outwards, making sure it had just the right angle and when she was satisfied she smiled to herself, and nodded in approval. Then she hurried on, she had much work to do still, so many people needed to get a good, long, dead sleep.

When she got home, she went down to her basement. Turning on the lights revealed an assortment of heads being dissolved in acid, jars with fingers in them, and other nice nicknack’s from her hobby. She picked up the finger she had kept from the last victim and put it down in jar nr 5, looking with content on the other 4 full jars of fingers.

A knocking at her door made her freeze, but just for a moment, then she composed herself, her face smoothed out from the hunted animal features it had exhibited for a split second.

She walked up, opened the door and said “Yes, what can I help you with?”
I am Karen from Jehovah’s Witnesses, and I would like to talk with you about Christ our saviour.”
Sandra smiled, she had been meaning to get around to pay them a visit, and now she did not have to.
Please come in, lets talk in my basement, it so much nicer there.”


On a Monday (for Laura)

Winter was still holding the city in its grip but you could somehow feel that springs were not to far off, maybe just below the horizon, close but not yet here.
The sun was shining in full force and there were no sign of any wind at all, so Laura decided to have her lunch in a park close by her workplace. In the shadows it was cold but as soon as you found a spot in the sun, its heat made you feel alive, like only the first warm rays can do after a long winter.

She sat on a bench and closed her eyes, just enjoying the sun when she heard a commotion not far from away. Lazily she turned her eyes in that direction and saw a young couple arguing, he was shouting and the girl, perhaps afraid, did not say anything at all.
Laura thought what everyone would think, “What a jerk, wish he could just fall on his ass.”
The fight ended with the man stomping away, as he reached a ice-free patch of road Laura thought as hard as she could that he should fall on his bum. Before her eyes the man started waving his hands, like he was out on pure ice, and then he fell, hard on his ass, having all the appearance of a little naught child.

She smiled to herself, happy he got what he deserved, and leaned back to catch some more of the sun.
This day was however a busy day in the park so not 5 minutes later there was another sound.

A women screamed and when Laura looked in that direction she saw a young women running with a handbag in her hand, presumably stolen from the other women.
She followed the quick running thief and again she focused her will.
“I hope she will run into that lamppost,” she thought.
Again something very peculiar happened. The young women, who would pass the lamppost by 2 meters at least started leaning in towards it. She seemed to struggle to keep away, but like a magnet the lamppost dragged her closer and closer, and with a big thud she hit it smack on the forehead.

Laura stood up and with no great speed, went to the bag-snatcher laying with a dazed look on her face. She picked up the handbag, meet the women from whom it had been stolen and said “There you go.”
Looking at her watch she saw it was time to get back to work, so she steered her feet back to the office.
“Not a bad lunch,” she though as she walked back, with a mischievous smile on her face.