Negative events seem to have a way of repeating, as this one did ... almost.
Trudy went out of town on a hen night, but promised to be back by 12.00 (they could talk quite lovingly when sober). Roger went local, and promised Trudy to behave himself. She of course took exception to this, and wanted to know why he was even thinking about Rosie, a local girl who had a crush on him (or so she imagined).
They verbally fought on the back doorstep, as he left to meet his mates.
"You're going to give that fucking psycho bitch some attention in my absence, aren't you!"
"Noooo. I've told you Trudy, I am not remotely interested in her. How many more times? Stop being paranoid and jealous, please! You're doing my fucking head in, love!"
She breathed angrily deeply in response, almost hyperventilating "If I even hear you were talking to her, or even looking at her, I'll fucking have you...ok?! I have my fucking spies!"
Selina heard the back doorstep row from her. Would Roger come back totally frustrated because of his 'restrictions'? Would she survive another 'session'? She thought of her survival, her life. What life? Maybe she would be better off dead? She remembered Roger's promise "We'll have you working with disabled kids, ok Sels?"... then he would kiss her muzzle. Boy oh boy, had she loved him.
Selina woke up, she heard Trudy come home and say goodnight to her mates in the taxi or minibus? The door slammed. Selina relaxed a little and slept troublesomely again.
Selina awoke abruptly at the 'bang'.
Roger kicked himself off the door, almost falling in the process, and staggered into the building, turning the light on in the process... surprisingly, he was drunk.
"She's not fuckin interested in a shag!" he said to Selina. She grunted in fear. "Wants to be fucking friends that's all! It's 'your' fucking fault! And now you have to pay!"
He got the horsewhip from the wall and leaned on the top plank of the barrier. He hit the palm of his left hand with the end of the whip. "Now babes, it's showtime! Are you ready to rummmmmmble horse?!"
She grunted. This time she wasn't, it was do or die, she couldn't take a life like this any more.
She turned in the enclosure, and hoped that her afternoon slow practice would pay dividends. She took a deep breath... and kicked her back legs at the top plank. It shattered, and Roger went flying with a 'yaagh!' She then kicked out the middle plank and the bottom plank... effortlessly. What had she been 'worried' about?
Roger got up, still startled... "You fucking bitch! NOW you're going to get it!"
She turned, stared at him, and then calmly walked towards him, at the same time thinking her heart was going to burst in fear.
He raised the whip and stepped towards her, the distance wasn't great. She dropped her head, and jumped at him. She caught him full in the chest, he fell again with a grunt.
She walked and stood over him so that she was staring down at him with her hooves either side of his head. He stared up at her, saying nothing. Then, she reared, and as she came down, both her hooves were heading for his face. He closed his eyes, and at the last second she drew her hooves apart. They hit the concrete with a crunch. She then walked backwards a few paces ... very angry.
Roger got up, stared at her, then ran from the stable. She followed him. He climbed over the gate and ran into the field. She kicked the gate off its hinges, and followed him.
The field was moonlit, she could see him clearly. There then followed a game of chase, and then a back leg rear up and wave front hooves into his face ...scaring him to death. He was crying now. "Please stop Selina...I love you!"
Yeah right! Equus 'mal' amour!
Eventually, she chased him back to the stable, and into a corner between the breezeblocks of the stable, and a seven foot wall at the rear.
He stood in the corner, his face wet with tears. She put her forehead on his, and then using her head, turned his to the left. His neck was exposed. She could see his jugular vein pumping blood frantically to his frazzled brain. She could easily rip his neck out jugular and all and finish this torment once and for all.
She nuzzled his neck ...that love feeling came back. She had used to do that when he had first got her, and looked after her ... he was a good groom, exquisite in fact.
She could smell his fear, but he had made hers worse.
Who would suspect a horse of ripping out a man's jugular and most of his neck? After all, she could wipe and wash off the blood in her water bucket, no one would suspect. No horse had ever ripped out a human's jugular and throat before?
They would probably blame some stray Rottweiler, there were plenty around town. The jugular pulsed, and then the answer flashed into her mind, accompanied by a very harsh thought... she fucking hated him and wanted him out of her life, for good. No compromise.
She opened her mouth slightly, and applied 'love' suction pressure to his neck...
The pain became apparent, and a tear ran down his face. He thought. "Oh fuck! This is it!". His heartbeat increased, he went dizzy, and he fainted.
He was lying on the ground? and something large was leaning over him.
"You fucking... mumble mumble!...
He awoke with a start. He was in bed, with his clothes on. Trudy was standing over him, the lights were on.
"You fucking two timing lying wanker twat!" She yelled.
"Eh whaaaaaaammm??" he replied.
You ask me to trust you, then you go with her! That fucking psycho bitch Rosie!"
"Whaaaa.. I didn't!" What? He awoke a little more. "Oh noooo. She just wants to be friends, doesn't want a shag."
"What!? You twat, so you asked her! And then she gave you that!"
"Gave me what?".. what the fuck was she talking about?
"Look!" she held a mirror up in front of him. "Look! Look at your fucking neck!"
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - A is not only for Apple By Lin Whitehouse
Is this what it feels like to sit on death row, morbidly freefalling through the past? I keep averting my eyes from the clock face but the minute magnet holds me hostage.
Had I done enough to be reprieved?
Another hour swallows my resolve not to panic, in God's name how long does it take to open an envelope?
Perhaps the results aren't what we predicted.
Fiction - Everyone Loves The Big Girl By Leah Scarpati
The lights go back on and there are cheers, claps and wolf whistles as I
take my final bow. That plank of a DJ ruined the end of my performance
by cutting Shania off short instead of fading her out like I told him to.
Thankfully I don't think anyone noticed.
I'm sweating like a pack horse, but at least I've given it my all.
Large Lady Kiss-a-grams are getting a good reputation and I reckon
it's all down to me. Read more...
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Unkindest Cut By Manuro
Phil's partner in hell-raising had convinced him that it would be a 'good idea' to spend all of his gig money on pork chops. They had met during the summer at an all-night Clown Skills and Raw Food workshop in Worksop, where the ability to see through walls and predict future events had proved, at the very least, useful.
Unable to control his bohemian life, Phil took solace
Fiction - Later. Still. By Christopher Skolik
Maybe human beings get through life by focusing their attention down to the smallest details, those soap opera comings and goings that make up the flickering magic lantern show of day to day existence, the little things that make life worth living, the details that stand between us and the chasm.
Fiction - The Hunch-Back (in the style of The Hitman by T.C. Boyle) By Katherine Horrex
By the age of nine the Hunch-Back is aware that he has no place. He questions the existence of everything he sees and it is not until he grows shady from first stubble and hard with distracting pubescent bulk that he gains any sense of purpose, or raison d'etre if you will, for he is half French.
It is his mother to which the French in him must be attributed,
Fiction - The Terminal Brothel By Christopher Skolik
Gales crashed onto the housing estate. Grey sky like fractured mountains.
In the passenger seat Dennison read through the paper, as Snaith drives. As some story or headline caught Snaith's attention he would ask Dennison to read it in full.
The council estate was a maze of similarity -a dizzying optical illusion where homes, roads, and people all
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Kundalini By Andrea Longstaff
She was homeless and walking the streets.
Her mind was unhinged but full of new found awareness. A realisation that she was now free in the true sense of the word.
Her life always did have a surreal texture to it but after a night of no sleep and helping the stranger who had dropped his pens.
He looked into her glazed eyes, "I hope you get a good nights sleep tonight"
Fiction - The Artist By The Silver Fox
Pencil in hand, he stands immobile. His eyes are locked onto the pristine expanse before him as though searching for some secret buried within the paper itself; an image that his pencil will simply be highlighting rather than creating. Above and beyond his eye line, the graphite point gleams dully in the harsh light that cascades down onto the easel.
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Crackers By Pete Texas
I was 12 ½ when my dog ate my rabbit
He chewed on its head like a malnourished Gannet
So I traded Ben for an Arini Parrot
Put her in the hutch with the lettuce and carrot
I was sure with the straw to build Polly a nest
So when she fell asleep she'd have somewhere to rest
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Flat By The Silver Fox
He emerged from the oven to see the landlord eyeing him as though enquiring as to what he'd expected to find in there. He adopted a knowing expression - as though saying that he hadn't found it and was disappointed.
"Seventy a week?"
"That covers your water rates," came the expansive reply. He nodded, fearing that further conversation would bring
Fiction - Independent By Katherine Horrex Photos by Darren Rogers
The room was pulsing with white noise and euphoria. Giles was positioned behind the sound booth, stupefied by the scene on stage: five Burberry clad men thrashing manically at their instruments, their sixties feather cuts flicking through the damp air.
A final power chord growled through the Marshall stack, reverberating triumphantly and the lead
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Prescription By The Silver Fox
The pen flashed across the pad like a magic wand. Jeff watched, appropriately spellbound. The prescription was pushed across the desk with neither comment nor eye contact.
"Not much of a bedside manner."
"This isn't a bedside."
Pain sent a stinging retort flying to Jeff's lips; need bit it back.
"Not funny," he mumbled, leaving.
After an agonising moonwalk
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Kids Like That By The Silver Fox
The abuse, though muted by the noise of the engine, was clear and vile in the thick afternoon air. It poured onto the bowed head of the smaller boy; rank as his sweat and tears. He pressed down upon the accelerator and the car shot forward, elongating the bully's last insult into a thin scream.
He was out onto the hot road before the broken bundle had rolled off of the bonnet.
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Who's The Daddy? By Catherine Horlax
I heard footfalls; hollow thuds echoing down the corridor, and drew my knees up so my boots wouldn't be visible. He'd said he'd be there. A tap gushed.
I noticed the door was inscribed with idiocy, and calmed myself with the fact that
'Lisa Hyde stuffs mashed potato up her cunt'.
At least I'd kept my word - I'd said I'd be there too. I laughed because, barring crying,
Fiction - 3 Phones, 300 Words By Joe Hakim
She smiled as she handed him the bottle. He took it from her and poured himself a glass.
'So what do you think?' she asked.
'I'm not that bothered,' he replied.
He was pretty drunk by now and he attempted to think of something to say, but the silence remained stagnant. She took a gulp from her glass,
Fiction - Lessons Learnt By Nick Quantrill
DS Richard Coleman pulled into the lay-by and headed towards the flashing blue lights. An hour later it would have been someone else's problem. But it wasn't. An articulated lorry had been isolated from the other vehicles, cones placed around it, linked together by barrier tape.
A mobile generator providing power to the small floodlights