Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
STORY STARTER
Submitted by Denise Marking
Write a story about an argument between a couple that results in something unexpected happening
Writings
“Hey Laquita, just checking…are you going to take me up on that offer or not?” Raymond asked as he entered into the kitchen and began peering into the refrigerator.
“What offer are you referring to Raymond?” Laquita asked, with one hand on her hip, while stirring the pot of steaming chili, that she was cooking with the other.
“You know!! the offer…about me asking my mother to come over and help you with Thanksgiving dinner this year?”
“ Again!! Like I told you earlier, Raymond!! absolutely not!!”
“Just give me One good reason Why Not Laquita??” Raymond insisted.
“Ray! You’re such a “MAMA’S BOY”
you don’t want your mom to come
and just help me!!!
Noooooo! you want HER to come and actually COOK THE DINNER FOR ME!!!”
Laquita shouted, as
she forcibly threw down the spoon and blue hand towel she had been holding.
“ AAAnnnnddd…what’s wrong with that??” Raymond chuckled.
“ Ray, we have been married for two years and my Thanksgiving dinners are improving!! That’s what’s wrong with that!” And your mom enjoys talking about my cooking behind my back!!! You know she’s told many of you’re other family members that she thinks I’m just an awful cook!!” Laquita was now sobbing into her pink Kleenex.
“ Girl!! Ray shouted…my mama has done NO such thing!! She is not that type of person!!!”
“But, Laquita you have to admit you’re not the greatest cook!!” Raymond mumbled. “ And you know I’m trying to get that promotion!! and I’ve invited my new supervisor Mr. Alexander and his wife over, because their new in town!! And I really want to make a good impression!!!..I just want things to be pretty much perfect!!”
“Well, I suggest that you have our Thanksgiving dinner catered Raymond…if you want things to be perfect!!” Laquita demand, while hastily walking out of the kitchen.
Raymond followed closely behind her while yelling… “What about last year?? …when you left the bag inside the turkey? And …the potato salad …some of the potatoes were uncooked and hard!! Remember the macaroni and cheese? some of the noodles were crunchy, and there was hardly any cheese to be found!!! And …the green beings… Well, they tasted just like you had just dumped them out of the can!!”
“Enough Ray Enough!!!!….I get the point!!” Laquita was now bawling uncontrollably. As she ran to their bedroom, and slammed the door loudly behind her.
*************************
But Laquita was determined to prove Raymond wrong!!
Three weeks before Thanksgiving, Laquita made a point to watch every YouTube Thanksgiving cooking video she could find!
She took a local Thanksgiving Day meal
“boot camp” cooking class.
And her brother Marshall “the chef”
worked tirelessly with her, to perfect a couple unique thanksgiving day dishes.
Needless to say ….Laquita’s Thanksgiving meal was a major accomplishment and a great success!!
Everyone in attendance, including Raymond’s mother, appeared, pleased, content, and satisfied!!
And most everyone even went back
for second helpings!!
Laquita was ecstatic!! and Raymond was thrilled!! as he apologized and gave her a loving kiss and warm embrace following dinner!!
After dinner while everyone was partaking in dessert and sipping on freshly brewed coffee, Mr. Alexander, offered Raymond, his much anticipated promotion, at the car dealership!!! The promotion that he had been longing and praying for!!
Laquita was simply overjoyed!!!
Marin smiled and waved at the cars backing out of her driveway. Once they were out of sight, she allowed her anger to bubble to the surface.
She slammed the front door behind her as she stalked into the living room behind Jet. She turned to see Jet sitting back in a big armchair by the fire, staring at his phone.
“Are you being serious right now?” Marin asked.
“What? I’m cold.” Jet replied nonchalantly.
Marin stormed over to the fireplace and doused it out with the fire blanket.
“Hey! What are you doing?!” Jet roared as he rose from his seat. They stood facing each other from opposite sides of the room.
“Why’d you invite Casey over to dinner? It was supposed be a family dinner, just us, and Charlotte and Greg, and my mom, and you invited your work whore?!” Marin yelled.
“Hey! Don’t call her that!” Jet said.
“I’ll call her whatever I fucking want if you’re going to spend the whole night playing footsie with her instead of your goddamn wife!”
“She’s actually really nice, which you’d know if you gave her a chance. And she makes me happy! You never ask me what I want, it’s always your plans —“
“Well maybe they could be OUR plans if you lifted a finger to help—“
“Why would I help with plans that I want nothing to do with?! I’m tired of dinners with Charlotte and Greg and your mom. I’m tired of dinners with you.” Jet said cruelly.
At those words, Marin lost her voice. She stared at Jet, shocked and hurt. He looked down. She clenched her jaw, holding back tears.
“Well, I guess I’ll leave then.” She squeaked. Jet didn’t move.
Marin made her way to the door quickly, turned the doorknob, and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. She pulled harder and heard the cracking of ice. Feeling encouraged, she yanked on the knob as hard as she could, and then she was flying backwards, the broken off doorknob clutched in her fist.
She scrambled up and stared at her hand in disbelief. She turned to see Jet looking at her with a resigned disbelief. He sighed and plopped down into the chair again, staring at his phone. She threw the doorknob at the door in frustration.
She walked over towards the fireplace, grabbed the fire blanket, and turned the other armchair away from Jet. She sat in the chair and curled up under the blanket. As she stared out the window into the overcast winter sky, she wept silently, fearful of what would come next.
Tammy sits on a frumpy plaid couch from the 70s with her legs and arms crossed. Her hands buried in their long sleeves. Beside her is her husband Mark, sitting spread eagle with his arms crossed over his chest. Seated in front of them is a crusty faced elderly man dressed frumpier than the couch.
"So, what brings you both in today?" Dr. Bryan asked. John and Jane looked at each other and then back at the therapist. "We're having some problems with our sex life," Mark said.
Dr. Smith nodded understandingly. "What kind of problems are you experiencing?" Tammy cleared her throat. “Well, first of all, when Mark is focusing on me he usually does things that he thinks are good moves. And then when I ask he to do something that I specifically want he falls back into what he was doing before. He doesn’t put in the effort. when it comes to something I want done to me.”
Mark cuts in, “Well if we’re gonna complain about lack of effort. What about your lack of effort when you go down on me? Huh? It feels like it’s only lasts a few minutes and then you just tap out and whine ‘My jaw’s tired, my arms are tired, my neck hurts.’”
“A few minutes? It takes you forever to finish! You last through six episodes of Bob’s Burgers! SIX EPISODES! That’s two hours Mark. And you wonder why I’m tapping out?!”
Dr. Bryan held up his hands. "Okay, let's take a step back and try to approach this in a more constructive way. Mark, it's important to consider your partner's boundaries and feelings. And Tammy, it's great that you communicate when you’re feeling uncomfortable and it’s ok to slow things down and take breaks. It doesn’t have to be a continuous sprint to the finish line.”
Tammy side eyes Mark with a perfectly threaded arched eyebrow. Mark looks at his feet. Dr. Bryan nods. "I understand both of your perspectives. How about this: why don't you both take a few minutes and make a list of things that you want to do in the bedroom, and then you can discuss and come to a compromise on what to try together?"
Mark and Tammy look at each other and then back at the therapist. They nod, “Sure, okay.” Dr. Bryan hands them each a note pad and pen.
After a few minutes Dr. Bryan asks, “Are we ready to share? Tammy would you like to share first?” Tammy nods. “Well I like it when we do interesting positions but I just wish they were more ergonomic. I’d like to get a yoga swing and hang it from the beams or something. Or even have like a custom chair or couch that’s shaped for the positions we like to have sex in. And I’d like to be louder but I don’t like that we have thin walls. I wanna have like a secret room with lots of soup proofing.”
“You want a secret sex dungeon,” Mark asks incredulously. “Well not a dungeon but, yeah, a secret sex room where no one can hear us scream.” Mark looks at Tammy wide-eyed, a smiling growing on his face.
As they leave the therapy session, Mark turns onto the road opposite of their usual way home. “Hey, where are you going,” Tammy asks. Mark smiles, “Home Depot. Got a secret sex room to build.” Tammy’s smile grows ear to ear.
No. Yes. No. No. Shut up. Let go. Go. Just go.
Leave me alone. I can’t stand it anymore. Out the door. The kids are torn.
It’s a storm. And the umbrella’s gone. Just like my trust. My home.
You’re just a painful sore. Itch it again. Scratch away the pain. You just won’t go away.
Laugh again. We’ll bury our hatred With bags of heavy gold That we can’t afford yet
Burn our bills In big rubber bags Light them on fire The gold we never had
Oh, I remember the days when we would laugh together and Smile at the day’s stories Our young love; Romeo and Juliet but Without the gore that killed the play, The poison that swallowed their love, The knife that would fuel our strife.
We were still broke, But our hearts were bespoke. No kids to cry, it was Young innocent happy-lolly-dolly-candy-couple love; Happy love, Forever etch-my-initial-into-a-tree kind of love.
Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Okay. I’ll let go. I’ll go. Just go.
And I went outside where the trees grew brand new, Where the spring flowers smelt like the newest new husband With whom I’ll romantically rendezvous— Or not. Time to go find El Dorado so that I can refuse giving another poor man my hand. Yes, I will follow Dorothy’s yellow brick road because I hate men with a passion, and to be honest I’d much rather bank a good 100 grand: My true golden love and lifelong passion.
“Delivery!” Chase’s cheery baritone rang from the half open Dutch back door and flitted around Holly’s kitchen. Holly startled and tossed a sifter of powdered sugar up into the air. The stovetop, the counters, and her pert nose were all covered in a sugar cloud. She frowned. Chase snickered. She scowled then burst into peals of bright laughter. The sight of Holly, her chestnut hair in a messy bun and her lush curves wrapped in an apron, did something to his insides. He realized he was perv staring and coughed to hide his embarrassment. This afternoon Chase has researched Holly’s background and land holdings but he hadn’t realized how pretty she would be in person. “I’m sorry to scare you, Counselor. But I managed to find you a tree after all and I thought I’d bring it over right away.” Chase gestured to tied up fir leaning against his broad shoulder. “I don’t scare easy. I thought you said there were no trees left at your Christmas tree farm. And in fact there were no more trees in all of Silver Bells County. And probably not a single gosh darn Christmas left for sale in all of Montana on Christmas Eve,” Holly said with a trace of a smile on her pink lips. “Well at Chris Cringle Christmas Trees we believe in going above and beyond for our customers,” Chase said. “Then you said what kind of spoiled privileged woman tries to buy a tree to be delivered on Christmas Eve in a snow storm. Then you slammed the phone down on me.” Holly put her hands on her hips. Despite the urgent tree request and frentic baking, Holly didn’t like Christmas. She didn’t understand the fuss and bother and unnecessary togetherness but her little girl had asked Santa for only two things, one was a real Christmas. There was nothing Holly would not do for her Angelina. Chase covered his face with his large work roughen hand. “If I may throw myself on the mercy of the court. In my defense, I was tired from working on my taxes. And honestly I’m just not used to holidays alone without my partner, my Chrissy. I get cranky around Christmastime,” Chase answered. With Holly looked the big handsome farmer up and down. Angie’s father had been a big man, too. Her late husband had been big and handsome and foolish enough to turn his back on her. Holly’s smile returned and she quirked an eyebrow at Chase. Angelina asked dSanta for only two things, a real old fashioned holiday and a daddy. “Well I did tell you to eat a bag of dicks so case dismissed,” Holly said. Dusting the sugar from her hands, she walked over to the Dutch door and opened it wide. "the living room is right this way. Help me decorate for my daughter and I have a plate of snickerdoodles with your name on it.”
“What’s in this pie?”
The man stares at his wife with a simple expression. “It’s just pie, darling.”
“No, what’s in this pie?” She asks again.
“Well, I don’t know, apples, sugar—“
He’s cut off by her aggressively stabbing her pie with her fork. The man slowly looks up at her, and nearly vomits when he sees her face; an unearthly color, foam spilling from her mouth.
“What’s in this pie?” The woman, once again, asks.
“It’s just pie, darling.” The man replies, looking back down at his and shoving a forkful into his mouth. He spits out a nail and continues chewing.
Man: Babe what did you put in this food Women: It’s just normal food Man: NO it isn’t it tastes weird Women: Ok well I spent all day cooking it so you could at least be somewhat great full Man: IT’S HORRIBLE WTF did you put in it Women: I DIDNT PUT SHIT IN IT OK Man: Stop fucking lying WTF DID YOU PUT IN IT Women: ( she strikes the man and picks up the spoon and try’s the food herself) Man: You see what I am talking about Women: Babe this isn’t our spoon Man: What do you mean Women:I have never seen a spoon like this before Man: What??? Women: It’s not even a spoon Man: What?? Women: BABE it is a fork Man: You got to be fu……..
The small, homey kitchen bustles with noises of cooking preparations. A pot of butternut squash soup sits simmering on the stove with a ladle stirring peculiarly on its own without the touch of a human hand. Pine needles create a faint trail from the foyer as a Christmas reef floats to the wall to hang itself nicely over the head of the kitchen table. Measuring spoons dip themselves into the row of spice jars laid out before them, the aroma of cinnamon and ground cloves drift through the kitchen.
Chrysanthemum smiles warmly, taking in the fragrance and feeling of the upcoming Christmas weekend. "Now if I can just get this charm right!" She exclaims cheerily and pours over the spell book open before her.
She starts mixing together the dry ingredients for her new sourdough recipe when her phone starts buzzing.
"Hello Dear!" Chrysanthemum sings into the phone while watching the measuring cup scoop flour.
"I'm at work! Why is Glen pecking at my cubicle window with a grocery list in her beak?!"
"Oh, I need you to pick up some items after you're done with the office today." Chrysanthemum turns to make sure the oven takes out her chicken casserole.
"You can text, dear! I don't need my coworkers questioning anything!"
"Oh, Henry, I doubt anyone would notice. They're too busy trying to get their numbers in for the year."
"And what is on this list?! A whole ham, two sardines not three, tuna eyeballs... frogs... and blood of an octopus?" Henry's anger briefly turned to confusion.
"Henry, my parents called earlier. Their plans changed, so they'll be coming in today to spend Christmas with us." Chrysanthemum continued to run her finger along the book page, following the recipe line.
"Oh, great! Perfect way to start the Holidays!" Henry exclaimed sarcastically.
"I know you don't like my parents, but it's my family, Henry! Why can't you just try to enjoy that?" she angrily started mixing the wet and dry ingredients for her dough.
"Your parents are weird, Chrysanthemum! Really weird, like hang a string of wailing frogs on the Christmas tree weird. And judgmental. Like, sorry I'm not some kind of wizard!"
"That's true, they did make fun of you for playing the piano when we have a cantrip for that" Chrysanthemum considered.
"Yes, exactly! Uninvite them! We'll just have Christmas together!"
"Henry! They're still my parents! At least they don't show affection by pinching your cheeks like your parents!" Chrysanthemum retorted, walking away from the kitchen in frustration.
"Oh, how dare you bring my parents into this! At least they're normal!" Henry retorted.
Chrysanthemum gasped.
"Okay, that was admittedly too far." Henry backtracked. "I'm just saying I love you and I want to just enjoy us this break."
Chrysanthemum took a deep breath. "You're right, this is getting out of hand. I want it to just be us as well, but I don't want my parents to spend the holiday lonely."
Henry sighed, "I understand. Let's invite them. We'll get through this. And... I'll see how much I can get from this grocery list."
They said their goodbyes, and Chrysanthemum smiled, holding her phone to her heart. She turned around to head back to the kitchen but saw that the backdoor was swung open. Chrysanthemum gasped as she saw that her sourdough bread starter had grown to the size of a human and was now terrorizing the neighborhood in it's globby form. A trail of broken mailboxes and sideview mirrors dangling from car doors left in its path.
Chrysanthemum brought her phone back up to her ear, "Uh, Henry, I believe I've messed up my recipe during our argument and accidently created a monstrous dough glob that is now dismantling our neighborhood. Please get home early to welcome my parents, bye!"
Before Henry could answer, Chrysanthemum was already out the door, struggling to put her coat on with a wand in her right hand.
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