Happy Monday everyone. I hope you had a good weekend. Mine was nice and quiet. With bursts of cleaning interspersed with movies. We’ve been going through out old DVD collections and it is kind of fun to see the movies we forgot we had squirrelled away in the cabinet. It was nice and fun. And very relaxing so I am ready to hit the week running. So we will start off with the first writing prompt of the week. Everyone ready to shake off the weekend? Good. Timers set to fifteen and off we go.
This was an odd one for me. It took a minute to get into it and then I just sort of took off. Still not sure what the calamity is, but I might try and write it out just to see what it turns out to be.
Monday, November 9th: He used every tool at his disposal to try and keep the island together.
He used every tool at his disposal to try and keep the island together. It was a daunting task at the best of times. The island was populated by three separate groups that even on good days had an uneasy association. Still these were dire times.
‘Necessity makes strange bedfellows,’ Tom recalled his uncle’s favorite saying. He was hoping that this time around they would all get into bed together. ‘Even if everyone tries to pretend it didn’t happen in the morning.’ He mentally added as he drove his jeep down the rutted track that passed for a road on this part of the island. The thought brought unwanted images to his mind and he shook them away. None of the people he was dealing with were ones he wanted to picture getting into bed alone, let alone with anyone. The matron he was going to see this morning was always immaculately groomed, every hair in place, makeup flawless and presence firmly established in the community. If Tom thought of her in any way outside of that role it was to lay her in a padded box at the end of the day like a giant doll, all of her accoutrements intact. Thinking of her as even owning night clothes made him feel like a perverted voyeur.
As the jeep bounced down the road, He reached over and made certain the ‘gifts’ he brought with him were still secure, despite the jouncing. He hoped she had no plans to open the champagne anytime soon. The gifts made him slightly uncomfortable, but he knew that was his own issue. He thought of them as bribes, but others thought of them as an appropriate tribute of thanks for being granted an audience. It was expected that he would be suitably grateful that she allowed him into her presence to state his case. The champagne and other assorted items were merely his tokens of appreciation for an audience.
He repeated that to himself many times over the last few days. His past, first as the son of a police chief and then later as a defense lawyer, made the mental shift a difficult one. It was part of the reason he chose to seek an audience with her first. He knew that of the three leaders of the factions, she would be the most cautious and most difficult to convince. If he could get her on his side, then he had a chance that the other two would join him more easily. And for once, uniting was their only course for survival. They had to work together or none of them would make it through the next six months.
Confident his gifts were secure; Tom took a breath and tried to work through the angles as his brain bounced around in his skull. He was informed he could be charming when he wanted to be and he was very good at being direct. He was sincere in his belief that this was necessary and hoped that whichever course he chose, this sincerity would shine through. He just wasn’t certain if charm or directness would be his best course. As the road turned and his destination came into view, he swallowed hard. He would have to play it by ear. So much was riding on this that he dare not falter. As he pulled his old jeep to a stop he prayed to whatever god was listening that his efforts would pay off.
Ten til Midnight 