Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Dinner Date

The mark sat by himself at a lovely table near the window, a glass of a pretentious chardonnay in his hand.  Clare nodded to herself from her vantage point near the ladies' room; he looked just desperate enough for her company to be welcome, but she decided to give him a couple more minutes to stew. 
Clare had grown up hard, and had learned very early that the fastest way to success in life was by using what she had to get what she wanted.  Her mother had taught her all about men; Clare had lost count of the number of dates her mother brought home.  But it kept the rent paid and put food on the table for Clare and her sisters, and that was all that mattered to them.  Now Clare was out on her own.

Stand up, shoulders back, chin level with the floor, and smile.  Clare sashayed into the main room of the restaurant, aiming straight for her target.  The mark watched her walk his way, anticipation tensing his features.  Clare walked right past him to sit at the next table, where her own glass of wine sat.  The waiter approached her, and she ordered the prime rib.

The mark was waiting for his blind date to appear, Clare knew. She'd happened to hear her coworker discussing an upcoming date; it wasn't difficult to leave a phone message indicating that the date had been cancelled.  Then she'd made reservations at the same place, requesting a nearby table.  When he was sufficiently upset about being stood up, Clare would begin her routine, sobbing quietly, but loud enough.  He would be curious, they would talk.  The two of them would bond over their woeful experiences, and soon, his money would be all hers.

Clare had it all planned out.  She knew her craft. She just hoped that this one wouldn't need killing.





The prompt is the third definition of the word CRAFT.  And you get a bonus verse, just because I happened to have it running through my brain while I was writing, and I had to get it out.



Every spider knows well his craft,

knows just which silver, silken webs to weave,

to draw each briefly dazzled fly into his lair.
 

The spider's lifelong task is to ever so cleverly deceive.

15 comments:

  1. Hahaha! I like it!! But you're such a tease ... I know I don't need to know what happened next, as your gem is complete in itself - but I really want to know!!!

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  2. Oh! Beware, young lads. ;-D
    Interesting. :-)
    -HA

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  3. A dangerous woman. Clare has definitely learned well from her mother.

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  4. Oooh Clare knows what she wants and knows how to get it. Damn!

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  5. Oh yeah. This story is just the way I like them. And so well written. The ending surprised me too!

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  6. Love it,especially the little details like the tensing of his face.

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  7. Wonderful job! I had to re-read this to find where you used the word prompt. This would make an incredible longer piece. I'd love to see more.

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  8. Dang, that last line was a shocker. Bleeding them dry is one thing...making them bleed is a completely different story :) (Well, I guess there's way to get rid of him without bloodshed, but still, that's pretty heartless!)

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  9. A great spin-of the web and that last line was a killer!I loved the bonus verse too :D

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  10. A good story....I especially liked the verse at the end.

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  11. ahhh, I like me some Clare, Maybe my Millicent and her would have a lot to talk about some day.

    I love the third paragraph because of how it frames the others. There's a lot of writing craft, here, T...seewhatididthere

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  12. The details of this make it such an enjoyable read. Thanks for linking up. Don't forget to vote.

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  13. Holy wow! That last line is a killer. ;)

    I love the unapologetic voice to this.

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