Last Christmas

The Challenge:

Create a written piece from one or more of the following prompts.

Don’t save me Prince Charming, I’m busy |  Jig on tombstones |“Uh oh! Someone’s….FABULOUS!”

Here’s my attempt…

_______________________

Christmas Party

Sharon stood on the ledge, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.  Her chest heaved as she sucked in air between sobs.  Her intent had been to jump, but she hadn’t found the courage.  As she had worked her way away from the window, she nearly lost her balance when she stepped on a loose brick.  In that instance, she realized she didn’t want to end it all.  Unfortunately, going back inside seemed as scary as plunging over the edge, so she stood frozen in place, crying.

“Sharon!” a voice spoke from the window.  It was Ron.  Mr. Head Stuck Up His Butt Ron, the office Romeo.  The sounds of the office Christmas party drifted past him.

Don’t save me, Prince Charming!  I’m busy!” she shot in his direction.  He was such a baboon, she thought.  He thinks he’s God’s gift to women.  She couldn’t stand him; he was a wart on the face of humanity.

“What are you doing out here?”

“What does it look like?” she said, sniffling now as her sobs subsided.  “I’m taking a walk, Einstein!”

“If this is about last night, I’m sorry!”

“You conceited prick!  A girl contemplates suicide, and naturally you have think it has to be about you,” she swore.  “Believe me, you’re not worth the trouble.”

“Well then, what is it?” he asked, one foot now on the ledge.

“Why should you care?” she dared to open one eye and shot a glance towards the window.

He had both feet on the ledge now and was cautiously straightening up, his back pressed against the window.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned.

“Look, I know I wasn’t very…nice, last night.  I…I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Oh, what did you mean to do?”

“I didn’t mean anything.  I wasn’t thinking.”

“Ah, a moment of honesty!” she exclaimed.  “Is this a breakthrough?”  She scooted further down the length of the building, as he began to make his way toward her.  “You’d dance the jig on tombstones, you’re so thoughtless,” she added.

“Sharon, I’m sorry!  She didn’t mean anything to me.  I don’t even know how it happened!”  he said as he moved closer.  “Her husband has been so bad to her.  I  felt sorry for her.  I was trying to help.”

Uh oh!  Someone’s…” she began, as he stepped on the loose brick.  With a shout, he flailed his arms, and plummeted to the ground.  “FABULOUS!” she finished.  Having reached the next window, she slid it open and stepped through.  Moments later, she joined the growing crowd on the sidewalk.

“Who is it?” she asked innocently of Bill from Accounting who stood at the edge of the throng.

“Ron Strake, Sales.”

“Oh, what a shame!” she exclaimed.

“No kidding!  He had so much going for him!  Who could have seen it coming?” Bill commented.

“Really!” she agreed.  “Who could have?”

Author: michael

I am a former teacher and pastor, now living in retirement as a homesteader, farmer, bee herder, Realtor® and writer.

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