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A Torrid Tuesday Eyelock...


It's Tuesday, and time for a touch of Torrid.....

Keeping it ultra simple this time. Hope it leads to words- maybe even helps with a bingo square?!

Your prompt: No....don't close your eyes....look at me!"

Soooo many ways this can go, no?

Hope you'll have a great week - 'til next Tuesday.


( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 28th, 2016 01:34 pm (UTC)
Jun. 28th, 2016 01:52 pm (UTC)
It is, it is! I would write a fic with it, but I already did last week, lol......

Today's about the bingo for me - where did June go?
Jun. 28th, 2016 03:44 pm (UTC)

On the other hand - Pool party...
Jun. 28th, 2016 09:12 pm (UTC)
Not at all torrid

But you did inspire me! Thank you!

407 words, no fandom, he/she

“ No....don't close your eyes....look at me!"

“I can’t…” Her eyes squeezed shut, she shook her head, jeopardizing her precarious position. “It’s too high.”

She wobbled. He panicked, lunging slightly knowing he’d never catch her. She squeaked out her fear, but caught her balance.

“Open your eyes.” His voice was stern, but not harsh. It demanded without threat. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

“No.” Tears streamed down her face. “It’s too far d-“

“Look at me.” There was intimidation in the words. “It’s not bad at all, if you just look at me. Not the ground, not the sky. Just look at me.” He climbed on the ledge. He was at least ten feet away. Not that far at all, until you were twenty-three stories up on the side of a building.

She opened her eyes and squinted, looking only at him.

He smiled. “Put your right hand against the wall. That’s it. Stretch the left to me. Exactly. Now slide one foot toward me a little.”

“I can’t. I’ll fall!” She was more certain, shed more tears.

“I won’t let you. Just keep reaching for me. Slide one foot at a time. Just a little bit. I’m right here for you. Don’t close your eyes… look at me.”

She slid slowly forward on the ledge. Five or six inches at a time. She stopped intermittently to take deep breaths, to wipe the tears, to brace herself against the overwhelming fear.

He felt some pride. With each movement closer she got to him, he felt like his arm stretched closer towards her. “Keep looking at me. Don’t look anywhere else.”

It felt like forever later when their fingertips finally brushed. He was as stretched as he could manage, but he still couldn’t grasp her hand. One more step forward and he’d have her. Just one.

She felt the brush. Fingerprint grazing fingerprint. She lunged forward, the horror almost over. She reached with both hands. She missed.

He pushed forward from where he was secure and wrenched her hand. Pulling her viciously toward the balcony railing while he lost his footing.

She tore at the banister, gouging with fingers and nails and all her might.

He fell. Down and down. Panic and pride mixed in his head as he suffocated his way to the ground.

She pulled herself over the rail. Putz.she thought as she unfastened her harness and rigging that stretched out behind her.

Edited at 2016-06-28 10:46 pm (UTC)
Jun. 29th, 2016 01:41 am (UTC)
Re: Not at all torrid
Yikes! She's a stone-cold killer. I'm getting hired assassin. Nicely done- ya never know where these prompts are going! :)
Jun. 29th, 2016 01:48 pm (UTC)
Re: Not at all torrid
I like that! Thank you so much!!! :)
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )


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