The Delusion of Love.

He descended from the  Arabian horse with pride and regality. Although, he stood among many who gathered to win the hand of the queen he stood alone. For her maidens whispered and blushed at the very sight of him. The rainbow of great knights brought a smile to her eyes as she stared out of the throne room window. They waited in anticipation to cross the bridge and enter her castle. They would drink and be merry before presenting themselves before the beautiful queen.

The moment finally came, the noble knight bowed down at the feet of the Queen and presented her with a single white rose. “This rose is magical and is a representation of my promise of love and adoration until we leave this world and ascend into the heavens. I vow to love you even  then.”  Words so sweet, she thought his lips dripped with honey.The queen’s trusted advisor permitted the knight to come forward. He took the queen’s hand kissed her palm and placed the rose within it.

Many came after him presenting gifts and declaring unending love. None touched the heart of the queen as the Irish knight. Dressed in all black made from the finest fabric money could buy. His skin as smooth as milk, set on fire by the bright redness of his full beard and hair. He warmed her heart and butterflies waltzed within. She was drunk with an infatuation for the knight.

The sun set many days welcoming the rising moon, yet the magical rose remained as new. He haunted her day and night! Finally, the time came, she made her decision, and the Irish knight would take the throne beside her. Her decision was against the advice of her trusted advisor, but the queen thought she must follow her heart.

Everyone in the kingdom was invited to celebrate the queen’s wedding; from the lowest of peasants to the noblest. She was a picture of beauty. The white lace gown traced her full curves; her copper skin peeked through the lace dress and veil. Onlookers stirred with excitement at her breathtaking beauty as she gracefully sauntered down the aisle to meet her future king. In her hand she carried the unaged single white rose he presented with the night he met her.

Happier than she had ever been, the queen would never forget the day she married the newly crowned king. Although, the queen’s advisor informed the queen that her days of happiness would not last until her end of time. Spiritual advisors advised the queen that her eyes were deceptive; she would bring great pain to herself, the reigning king and people of the land. Her heart was not the source of her decision. The spiritual advisors were beheaded! How dare anyone question the actions of her majesty!

Days evolved into weeks, months and then years. The queen again was sole ruler over the kingdom without the consult of the king; he was a mere footstool of the queen. She despised the man she’d come to know. The king loved the Queen even more than he did when he first met her acquaintance but his love was unrequited. Their marital bed was no longer; the once magical rose had long met its demise. The queen often wished she has never met her king. Regretful she never took the advice of her late advisor. Misery, dissolved his heart sending him to an early grave.

Happiness and love are feelings! Our eyes will deceive us when they are used to depict our emotions.

“A Prelude to Love.”

The beautiful woman swiftly whipped in between a car and a truck parked in front of the corner store. She could hear the loud laughter and conversation of the guys gathered outside over Ciara’s Body Party playing on her Bose system.  Yvonne freshened her lipstick and checked her hair in the rearview mirror. All in one motion she opened the door to her jeep swung her legs around and hopped out. Her blue leather 4-inch heels hit the ground with a click. She adjusted the white cotton mid thigh skirt that revealed the secret of her full hips and bum. She flipped up the collar on the jean jacket she wore over the v- neck white fitted shirt showing her flat tummy and breast that begged to be let free.

Her presence changed the mood of the once boisterous group. Calm and hungry glares came over the small crowd as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Yvonne smirked and winked at the crowd as she passed and made her way into the store. As she crossed the threshold, she could hear the men attempt to determine who had dibs. Yvonne stood in the snack aisle trying to decide what appealed to her taste buds the most. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she watched his calculated approach. Leisurely, he walked towards Yvonne; his hands tucked in the front pocket of his white hoodie, his baggy Levi jeans fell just right over his Timberland boots. He continued his approached as he snatched a bag of chips off the rack not missing a step. Casually stalking his prey.

“Excuse me?” He said at a whisper standing close enough to brush arms with Yvonne.

“Yes,” Yvonne responded brushing the blonde and brown hair from her eyes. Yvonne stared intensely into his slightly slanted brown eyes. His fitted blue beanie met his thick red eyebrows and complimented his pale skin. The ivory perfection caused butterflies to metamorphize deep inside her belly and commence a game of tag.

“You have beautiful eyes lady!” Scott said extending his hand. He was mesmerized by her big brown doe eyes, her chocolate complexion and full lips. Scott stared at Yvonne as if an angel of perfection descended from heaven for him alone.

“My name is Scott. What’s your name?” He asked still holding her hand in his.

“Yvonne,” she responded blushingly. She looked down at her hand in his.

“I’m sorry” he blushed, allowing her fingers to slide from his grip.

“How can I get to know you?” Scott barely managed to get out.

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Interrupted by the sound of R.E.M playing in her purse, she searched frantically before pulling out her cell phone.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” She asked putting the phone to her ear.

“I’ll be back,” he mimed in Yvonne’s direction after frantically checking his pockets.

Yvonne watched Scotts’ suave sway as he walked away throwing his medium sized bag of Lays potato chips on the counter and head out the door.

Uninterested in her current conversation. “Lemme call you back,” she said to the caller on the other end.

Quickly, Yvonne chose the almond joy she had been pondering over. She quickly made her way to the counter and paid for her items instructing the old man to add the Lays to her tab. She could hear the guys teasing Scott about her being “out of his league” and “too much woman for him.”

Yvonne grabbed her lipstick from her purse and scribbled her number across the front of the potato chip bag. Proud of her creativity she sashayed out to her jeep. Yvonne unlocked the door to her vehicle threw her items on the driver’s seat and made her way to Scott climbing down out of his own truck.

With a sly smile, she handed him the bag of Lays.

“You shouldn’t have done that! I seem to have misplaced my wallet.”

“It’s ok, you might want to pay close attention to that bag,” she said as she started to back away.

Scott glanced down at the bag then flipped it over. He noticed on the opposite side ten red numbers in the form of a phone number. Immediately he entered the number into his phone then held up the red trophy with the yellow background for his friends to admire. Yvonne sped away with a beep and a wave.

bwwm

 

 

🖼Picture of The Day🖼

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David and Laurie fled at the bewitching hour, careful not to tip off family friends and those that had then under their radar. Unknown, they arrived in Venice and hurried to their hotel. David slid the mid- sized hotel under the bed for safe keeping as Laurie took in the view. “Will they find us here she asked staring out of the picturesque window.” David gave her a hug in response, he had no answer regarding their fate. The couple stood in silence and took in the breath- taking view.

Image courtesy of tpsdave on pixabay.com

Image Prompt Writing Challenge

An informative note from Two Drops of Ink editor Scott Biddulph regarding the Image Writing Prompt.

Two Drops of Ink: A Literary Blog

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A Note from the Editor:

A couple of days ago, Marilyn, our wonderful assistant editor, put forth a challenge to all the writers in our audience. She asked writers, who wish to participate, to use the old chimney in the above photo as a writing prompt. Your story can be either fiction or nonfiction. We have already received submissions for this writing challenge; however, I want to take a moment and reiterate Marilyn’s call for writers to join this challenge. Why should you do so?

First, as writers, it’s always a great idea to practice using the five senses in our writing. In this case, the writing prompt is visual; however, I would add to the challenge that each writer try and incorporate using the five senses in their stories. You’ll find that using the senses as you write, creating metaphors, simile, and concrete descriptiveness, you’re writing will be much richer and hold a…

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The little things in love: A short story

Two Drops of Ink: A Literary Blog

John was running late for his plane, the flight was scheduled to leave Atlanta at 4:15 Pm and it was 2 Pm now.  He wanted to see Peggy his wife before he left “where is she damn it” he exclaimed with a grimace. Peggy was usually home from the office on Tuesdays just after lunch and besides she new john was leaving for Chicago after 1:00. John looked at the clock again and again as if watching it closely he could somehow stop the time. He decided to double check his luggage,” if she`s not here by 2:15 I`ve gotta hit the road” he said as if begging the clock to somehow retrieve his wife from where ever she was.
    Peggy was racing down the road looking at her watch, fists tight around the wheel and eyes focused on the road as she sped forward. “Oooh shoot I am…

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