Morning all. Ready to start the day? I am surprisingly wide awake this morning. I woke forty five minutes before my alarm which really never happens. I suspect evil is afoot. Or that I will just have a worse than usual afternoon slump. But for now, wide awake and ready to go. Timers set and let’s see what the prompt tells us the story it want’s to grow up to be.
Huh. This reminds me of a story idea I had with a prompt several years ago. Different details but same basic idea of one person leaving an event before a catastrophe. I might seek it out and put these two together and see if more of a story idea arrises.
Tuesday, September 22nd: She smiled so much her cheeks ached.
She smiled so much her cheeks ached. Behind them, Andrea often had her teeth clenched, but she doubted anyone noticed. This wasn’t a crowd that generally noticed much of anything beyond themselves. The conversation always revolved around what they were doing or interested in. Andrea was well liked by the group because she was willing to listen. She didn’t feel the need to interject her plans into their monologues.
In many cases people were paying more attention to their phones than any other person in the room. There were many set ups for planned photo ops and Andrea was asked to take the picture when a selfie couldn’t get quite the right angle.
In fact, she was certain ‘Could you?’ and the holding out of the pho9ne were the most often words she heard that night.
She held the smile in place because with so many cameras going off, she knew she would be in the background. If she was smiling no one commented about her being in the background. If she had any other look on her face, then someone generally pointed it out. Occasionally she was asked what was wrong with her. She was informed by he manager that explaining she was bored out of her skull was not an acceptable response.
So she smiled until her cheeks ached and kept most of her thoughts to herself. As she did, Andrea wondered if anyone realized there were some real-life photo ops just around the corner. They were spectacular and well worth the visit.
‘Better than this set up,’ she thought. Still the set up was something everyone paid for when they bought their tickets.
Andrea checked her watch and realized that she stayed longer than she was required. It meant she could leave without guilt. She tried to make her way slowly towards the exit so as not to look like she was making her escape. It took her longer than she liked but the wash of fresh air was she stepped out of the building was well worth it.
She knew the event piped scent through the vents and that it was supposed to enhance the experience, but in her opinion it just made the air feel heavy and close. ‘A neat trick in this building.’
The building itself was enormous. It was a converted warehouse and now had multiple tiers for different events. This one was large enough that it took over the entire event space instead of just renting a section.
She stepped away and continued down the sidewalk. One of the natural beauty spots wasn’t too far away and after too long with contrived photo opportunities she felt the need for a little something natural. The fact that she wouldn’t be taking photos there any more than she had inside was irrelevant.
Andrea kept moving, reaching the corner. As she did a car raced by her. She jumped back against the building, more because the sound of the racing car made her think she needed to get out of the way than anything else.
She looked up and saw a black suv roar past her. The driver had a shock of blond hair and a wide grin that seemed chemically enhanced. ‘At least what I could see in six seconds,’ she told herself.
She continued around the corner and kept going. She reached the light and crossed. She thought she heard the skidding of tires and thought maybe the driver might have lost control. She didn’t hear a crash though so suspected there was no accident. Without the sound of crunching metal she didn’t feel the need to go back and help. As the driver gave her the shivers, she was glad her help wasn’t needed.
Ten til Midnight 