Writing Successes: See Sunday Brunch Chat results below.

Music playing: Same as Friday and Saturday. I'm in a mood. Jonatha Brooke's link didn't work before.

Okay, this is total "diary" mode. Don't read if you don't want to know. Cause I am so in a MOOD.

This mood is all Shaun, all the time. It SUCKS. I hate this mood. I can't seem to get out of the friggin' thing. It usually starts with something simple and grows for a few days until I finally break down and get over it. *shove* *push* *move gray cells*

Today was just a wad of this mood. Hopefully this will help remove all mood from brain by tomorrow. I don't hold out a ton of hope, since I'll have the entire house to myself for the first time since Thanksgiving, but you never know. I'm hoping all the talking and writing friggin' cured it.

Then I go and watch Jennifer Aniston in "The Good Girl". Man. What a gross mistake! I mean, this movie ROCKS. It's true and gritty and my GODDESS did I understand and sympathize with this woman. This movie was like my LIFE. Exaggerated, to be sure, but the grains of truth were all there. I was feeling pretty snarky about it, since Donin was watching it with me. I needn't have worried.

Movie finishes and Donin goes, "Well, that woman was sure horrible." (Not the actress, like me, the performance was pretty darn good.) He meant the character.

I almost laughed. I mean, this is how I felt. How I still feel sometimes. This is ME on that screen. I have not only BEEN there, I friggin' DID THAT. I have the bleeding wounds to prove that mother. And he thinks she's horrible? It's so tragic, it's a laugh.

If you haven't seen it, the movie is about a wife whose lost interest in her husband, her role at work, her blah life, etc. She meets a guy and ends up having an affair with him. The point of the movie (and I don't think this gives anything really away, but you might skip it if you haven't seen it) is that she had this life where nobody "got" her. Nobody understood her, nobody even cared enough to TRY to understand her. Then, with ONE look across a room, she found someone who did understand. Someone she instantly understood in return. A kindred.

I mean, how did Donin miss this? Did he not see one single similarity here? (more spoilers) That she gave up her LOVE for her LIFE? That she chose the not the right path, but the RIGHT path?

But that sums up why there's a Shaun, now doesn't it? I understood him. He understood me. More than I had ever figured anyone would or could. In ways nobody will ever again, including him. Sometimes the RIGHT path is not easy or joyful; sometimes it's just the only path that makes sense.

So now it's the dark of night, and Donin (who I know wanted sex) is in bed alone so I can type this angst of mine. Send it out to anyone who stumbles past. Because he doesn't "get" it. Because he won't until I explain. And I'm not sure I want to explain. Seems a little pointless, and I hate bringing up these issues that contain Shaun anyhow. It's not easy to live with one's own guilt.

One last thing about this movie, it had an awesome line in it. "Do you ever feel like you'll go to your grave with unlived lives in your veins?" or something close to that. Man. Wow. What a line! I love it!

Remind me not to rent that again anytime soon.

Now, on to the work I did for the Sunday Brunch prompts. Please enjoy the offerings, and don't forget you can comment.

~~~

Write a story about what takes place while he/she/they is in another room, oblivious. 15

It always began with the look

“I’ll help with the dinner,” Shaun said, rising from his wife’s side. She smiled up at him but kept listening to Ric’s latest adventure.

He followed me into the kitchen and leaned on the long wooden bar. “What can I do?”

I glanced across at him. His gray eyes had darkened to midnight, the look on his face spoke volumes. I shivered.

“Come open these cans?” An offer to come around the other side, out of view of the living room.

My husband and his wife laughed as Ric finished his tale of working woe. I looked down into the pot of hot dogs, embarrassed.

Shaun brushed a hand across my ass. The embarrassment was replaced with a flush of guilt. Guilt that he’d done it, guilt that I loved it so. I looked up.

Deep the color of those eyes, dark the message inside.

Ric’s wife, Carol, began a story of her own. The squeaky drone of Shaun’s wife joined in, adding her own woes to the pot.

Shaun twisted the can opener and removed the lids from the chili. A long arm reached out across my chest, purposefully brushing against my breasts. “Sorry about that,” he whispered. “Just getting a spoon.”

The shiver was delicious. “No problem,” I answered, smiling at him from lowered lashes. As if only looking at him a little would make it less wrong.

He brushed against me again on his way back, careful to keep the spoon away. “Don’t know how that keeps happening.”

There’s another burst of laughter from our friends and family.

~~~


Use these: aggressive, violets, boat, flat, and orange. 15

The little pond was packed with weather worn boats, each with a pair of children struggling with oars. Some moved better than others, the teens picking up the knack of rowing and steering faster than the younger kids. But it seemed like every child present just had to have a go.

“This is going to take forever,” Steve said, looking at the line.

“Looks like,” I said.

“Want to find something else to do?”

“I should probably wait for Dave.”

“He’ll be forever in that pool and I’m sick of swimming. Come on, there’s got to be a volleyball game going on somewhere. Do you play?”

I shrugged. “I can play, sure.” I wasn’t athletic, but I did enjoy games. Besides, Dave’s brother was interesting and more fun than Dave was proving to be. Why not?

He led me around the long line at the boathouse, his desire to crew one of the dark orange vehicles forgotten. “Hey, look,” he pointed down a path that wound beside the little man-made lake. Adults were strolling along the asphalt path, enjoying the cool shade and the scent of violets in the air. “Let’s find out what’s down there.”

“Sure, why not,” I smiled. I loved walking in the forest.

Shaun took my hand and steered me down the little road. He had large fingers, bony and strong, I noticed. Aggressive, he pulled on my arm and half-jogged down to the farthest side of the pond. I kept up, giggling as we passed older couples on the flat path.

He stopped when the path met a deer trail and peered into the green of the forest. “Look,” he showed me.

I smiled at him. “Want to find out where it goes?”

He winked and shoved his way past the leafy fern into the woods beyond.

Dave was positively boring compared to Steve, I thought. Now this was an adventure!

Until next time, keep your sword sharp and your mind out of the gutter!