Rings

I've already posted this month, but I saw an ad for a smart ring and it reminded me of this piece that I did before. So I thought I would share since it's a short one.

-Rose B.

Rings

    I find David packing in out bedroom. Even though his ring should still tell him I'm right here, he tucks more shirts in the suitcase. I hold my hand to my chest but my ring remains cold to the touch. I didn't know why I expected anything different, for months now it may as well have been a piece of metal. David ignores the pulses of his ring, and closes the suitcase.

    "Davey?"

    He turns to me but his eyes remain cold, "What is it?"

    I clutch my hands tighter wishing some warmth would come through, "Please, can't we talk about this?"

    He grabs the suitcase from the bed and pushes past me, "We've already talked about this."

    I follow him into the hallway, "But Dav--"

    He doesn't even pause, "Alice. You can't stop me from leaving."

    "Do you feel nothing for me anymore?"

    He stops and puts the suitcase down in front of the door, "Your ring should answer that for you."

    "How can you be so cruel!? Can't you feel my pain!?"

    He sighs, "Can we continue this later?"

    He picks up his suitcase and walks out the front door. It gives a hard thunk as it closes, giving a sense of finality despite his words. Through the window I can see him get into a sleek convertible. He kisses the woman in the driver's seat and my ring changes from metal to warmth.

    As the car drives away, I feel him getting father away and the warmth fading. The ring turns back to ordinary metal and I collapse in front of the door. I clutch my right hand as tears drip on to my dress.

Smoke in the Air 4

 Smoke in the Air

4

    His eyes widen, "Really? The one who solved the Crosshair murder?" I nod, and he smiles, "Then please come with me to the conductor."

   We follow him out of the compartment and move through the train cars.

    "Relax Detective, you can just pretend I'm not here," She murmurs, "After all, I can't give you information until you agree to our deal." We reach the lounge car where a big man stands at the door. I straighten my suit before we move into the car. A variation of a scene I've seen hundreds of times greets me.

    Everything appears to be in order except for one table that has a cloth covering the body. I ignore it for the moment and look at a table in the back where four people sit. Two gentlemen, one lady, and the maid I saw earlier, they all look rather calm, a little unusual after being around a corpse. The only emotion I can discern is confusion at my appearance. The lady is younger than the one I saw the maid accompanying before, which means the body is most likely the older lady from before.

    Next to the bar stands the conductor and a couple of staff. The conductor raises an eyebrow as we walk over, "I thought I sent you to explain things to passengers, not bring some to me."

    The boy flinches, "They said they could help."

    I can almost see the vein bulge in the conductor's forehead and step forward before he starts yelling, "I'm Detective Williams. There are some procedures that can't be helped until the Cheston police get here but I can at least speed things along."

    The conductor looks me over and looks at the woman behind me, "And she is?"

    She steps forward and I notice a notebook in her hand, "Ms. Fumée. I'll be acting as an assistant for the detective." 

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Smoke in the Air 3

I might have to get a new computer soon. My current one is freaking out a lot, but I don't want a new one yet.....

             -Rose B.

Smoke in the Air

3

    She puts the cigarette holder to her lips and takes a draw. Her cheeks sink in as if the muscle doesn't exist, showing the bone structure of her jaw through translucent skin. The cabin goes black as we enter a tunnel. I hear her exhale and can feel the smoke hit my face. "Who else can I be but the one you see every day? I've never seen a mortal so involved with me and still breathing. If I didn't know better I would think you were one of my psychopomps."

    My brain doesn't want to accept it but people flash in my head old, young, male, female all wearing her face. How many times had I seen her while working or been around when I was dragged into a murder? My skin crawls as the knowledge sinks in, but I can't bring myself to put a name to her face. There's a flash of light as the train exits the tunnel and pulls me out of my thoughts.

    The train shrieks and comes to a halt. She continues as if nothing happened, "Now then, I can help you but I require something in return."

    "I don't need your help."

    She raises an eyebrow, "Maybe, but the information I can provide will be wholly true and won't be found anywhere else. Of course information provided by Death can't be used in court but at least it will prevent you from hanging an innocent man again." She looks at the door, "You can give me your answer after you see the situation."

    There's a knock at the door and I look up to see who is calling, "Yes?"

    A boy opens the door, "I'm sorry for the sudden stop, but we've had an incident. I've come to tell you that we'll be stopped here for some time."

    "That is unfortunate," Her voice is softer and I look over to see her in sensible clothes with a hat pinned to her head. The cigarette and it's holder is gone, although the smoke remains. "But maybe we can be of assistance. This is Detective Williams." 

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Smoke in the Air 2

 Smoke in the Air

2

    I jump at her voice and remind myself I'm not at the pictures. Then her words hit me, "Excuse me?"

    She waves a gloved hand, "Calm down. This will be a long trip, and it will be easier if you are more comfortable."

    I sit down opposite her, "A long trip? It's only a couple hours to Cheston."

    She smiles, and it sends chills up my spine, "Maybe on a different trip but not this one, Mr. Williams."

    It feels like the temperature in the room drops by a few degrees, "How..." The face of my old boss flashes in my mind, "Did the lieutenant send you?"

    She chuckles, a terrifying raspy sound, "No, Detective, I'm here because you interest me."

    I frown, "I'm not a detective anymore."

    "You may have been fired, but you can't stop being what you are." She cocks her head as if listening to something, "It should happen soon. Once we leave the tunnel, your skills will be needed."

    "You speak as if someone will be murdered."

    She narrows her eyes, "That's cheating, Mr. Williams, but a death will occur, Just like they always do around you and of course you'll need to solve the mystery."

    "Who are you?" 

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Smoke in the Air 1

This is one of my favorite pieces that I've written recently. I don't usually write mysteries because I end up creating something unsolvable. This wasn't supposed to be a mystery at all, I just wanted to writing something with this female character that has been in my head for a while. But I knew writing from her POV would be really boring and thus the detective came to be. I really like how it ended up and the dynamic between the two is really interesting. I would love to do a series with them but I'm not sure my mystery skills are up to par yet...

                 -Rose B. 

Smoke in the Air

1

    I look at the number above the compartment doors wishing they would match the one on my ticket so I could sit down. The train jolts as it hits an uneven track, and I bump into a high society lady. She turns her nose up at me and frowns.

    "My apologies, madam," I say, bowing my head.

    "Be glad these are my traveling clothes, otherwise you'd be paying for it to be cleaned," she scoffs before continuing past me. Her lady's maid gives me a quick curtsy before scurrying after her.

    I sigh and look down at the nine of my ticket I thought the upper crust had whole train cars to themselves, so they didn't have to mingle with the working class. I didn't ask questions when Thomas gave me the ticket, but maybe I should have. I continue looking at numbers praying there won't be someone inside I have to mind my manners around.

    I look down at my ticket in confirmation. It shimmers in the light coming through the windows, and frown at the four. I rub my eyes, I swear it said nine before. I look at the ticket again but it still says four. This whole situation must have made me more tired than I realized. Finally, I find it; it's the last one in the car. I tense up as I enter the compartment as there is a woman already there. She looks familiar but I don't know a woman that beautiful. Maybe I saw her on screen, She does look like she came straight out of a moving picture with her black hair, white skin, and a dress colored in gray tones. She seems to be wearing the latest fashion that is all the rage among ladies, but there's something not quite right about it. If Dorthy were here, she would know immediately, but she was going to have to find another employer to buy those fashion magazines. A cigarette holder is perched in the lady's hand, smoke curls around her, and she exhales more. I can't remember the last time I've been to the pictures and I feel like I've seen her more recently than that.

    "Finally, now things can begin."

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Red Roses Final

With the way things worked out this part is super small. I suppose I could have made the previous one smaller to allow this one to have more words but that would have cut it in a odd place. I played with the formatting of what was the final paragraph, because why not.

         -Rose B.

Red Roses

final

    Now, I'm here under the thriving roses, watching you plant pansies in the new girl. So she was just fertilizer to you after all. I can't feel her yet like I feel the others. They have become too consumed by the flowers to remember much at all, but I wonder how much she'll remember.

    Will anyone miss her like they miss me? You played the role of a grieving boyfriend well.

    Did you find it ironic when your sister consoled you next to my roses?

    Were some of your sobs full of laughter when she promised to find me?

    I wonder...did you actually care for me?

          What were the lies?

                    How much is true?

    You sit next to my roses on moon lit nights but you never say a word.

    You speak to me during the day so why not at night?

   

Is there something that holds your tongue?

Do you realize...

I can sill hear you?

 

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Roses are Red 6

Roses are Red

6

    I laughed and found a vase, "I don't plan on using flowers as a garnish but if I ever do I'll be sure to keep them separate."

    In the spring I helped you plant Annuals and replace the dead Perennials. You did the actual planting while I watered the new plants. It took us a couple weeks but when we were done two-thirds of your backyard was covered in green plants. As we surveyed our work I noticed a patch of dirt near the house.

    I pointed at it, "What are we going to put there?"

    You ran your hand through your hair, "Not sure, flowers I've tried in the past have had a hard time."

    "What about roses? There's not a single rose in your garden."

    You thought about it and agreed. I help you order the roses and you told me that you would prepare a special fertilizer to help them. I was curious but you just winked at me and said I'd have to wait until the roses arrived.

    I enjoyed that time of sitting in your garden, feeling the sun on my skin watching you take care of the flowers. You fit in with the garden just like you had in Starbucks. The flowers seemed to shine for you and you would smile at them. The sunlight made you glow with life, sometimes out of the corner of my eye it seemed like you had a halo. In those moments you really looked like a fallen angel. I once asked you how you got the flowers to grow so well and you smiled at one of the daisies in front of you and said, "Because I talk to them."

    That smile was different from the ones you gave to me, there was more of an edge to it, a darkness. I assumed it was bitterness and sorrow, so I left it alone. That smile is the only one I see now. Back then I thought you were smiling at the flowers, but you weren't were you. You were smiling at what was underneath.

    The day the roses came it was warm and sunny. I drove over to your house as soon as I could. You laughed at my excitement and called me adorable. The truck was bigger than I expected as were the rose bushes. I watched as they were unloaded and you directed the workers where to leave the plants. I wanted to plant them right away but you said it would be easier after it had cooled off a little. We went inside and you made some tea your mother had given you. The last thing I remember is the tea tasted more bitter than I remembered.

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