Stupid humans, we thought the Big Bang had already occurred. How much more wrong could we be? We had survived that, yet then came The Rapture. I’m not supposed to be here, I’m a believer, so how could this have happened? Now for us, the five billion souls left here on the Earth, we get this news. The biggest asteroid of all time is headed straight for us, we have seven days left, we will not survive this one.

I’m at a loss for words as I stare at my husband of thirty-five years. We just heard the news on our local station and after checking all of them, realized the news was worldwide. I can’t think. I can’t process this. There will be no fallout shelter, no miracle cure. What is there to do? Prayers are a foregone thing now, we weren’t taken in the Rapture, so we figure why bother? All I can do is look at my loving mate, grab him tightly and squeeze for all I’m worth, while this news swirls around in my brain like a merry-go-round on steroids.

If there was ever a time for a bucket list, this is it. My mind has not gone there yet, however, I’m still in shock. Slowly, like he’s in a trance, my husband Danny gets up from the couch and walks back to our bathroom, grabs my one-hitter off the window ledge, brings it back into the den and proceeds to light up. “What the hell are you doing?” I say, attempting to grab it out of his hand. “Who cares now, I’m not going back to work. Did you not hear, we are dead in seven days! Why shouldn’t we get stoned and sit here for a minute, try to get our heads around this?”

I stare at Danny like he has two heads. He’s right though. It doesn’t make a shit now what we do. I let it all sink in and then jump up from the couch and go grab us a drink. “You’re right,” I say, bringing him a beer and myself a hard cider. I’m shaking and I need to calm down so I can think.

We light up, each take a toke and a sip, then lean back on the couch and stare into each other’s eyes. “It’s been a fabulous life with you,” Danny starts to say. I sit there dumbfounded as the finality of it all starts to penetrate my addled brain. Danny has always been a realist, while I was the hopeful dreamer. I just can’t process that there is no way out of this until he says that, and then he adds, “We might as well make a final plan, do what we’ve always wanted to do for the last seven days here.”

I burst into tears. This cannot be it. All the years spent working our asses off, all the time raising our kids, planning for the future. Now that the future is gone, we have seven days. Nothing we could have done would have prevented this, nothing can save us, it is just...the end. Of the 2.7 billion people that were taken in The Rapture or passed away from something else in the last few months, most were innocents. Children, infants, saints, and true believers. One day millions of people were just gone. Obliterated. No explanation. It was decided then that the Rapture had happened and we were the ones left. We thought we were in that group, yet we were wrong. Just being good people and attending church was evidently not enough. We’d fooled ourselves all along. What was heading for us now must be the Apocolypse the Bible talks about after the Rapture. Only way more final. No Hell on Earth to endure...complete annihilation.

Danny knew what I was thinking and grabbed my hand. “No need to dwell on that, there’s no reason, no time to waste. What do you want to do?” I looked at him and from somewhere deep in my chest, a giggle was bubbling to the surface. I couldn’t stop myself, the thought of so little time left and the absurdity of this situation combined into some sort of hysterical cackle that threatened to erupt and all of a sudden I went from bawling to laughing, no guffawing out loud. Danny stared back at me and giggled a little himself. “What’s funny, Honey?” “If you think I’m staying stoned and in the sack for seven days, you are sorely mistaken!” I said, laughing the whole time. He looked at me like a chastised child. “Would that really be so bad?” he asked innocently.

I grabbed my drink and took a long pull, “Well, we can start out that way if you like, but then I’ve got places to go and peeps to see...things I’ve always wanted to do, and I want to do it all with you. You’re right, we have no time to waste, we need to call the kids, make a plan...” It was Danny’s turn to stare now. “What does all that matter now? I say we go to our happy place and stay drunk until it’s over. Waves crashing on the beach, drinks in our hands, toes in the sand, all that. We can fish all we want, money is no object now, we can stay in the big fancy...” “Oh no,” I cut him off. “That may work for the last day but...”

Danny grabbed both of my hands in his and gazed into my eyes. “Listen, let’s call the kids, see where their heads are at with all of this. We should all be together, whatever we do. If they want to be with us, that is.”

That was something to consider, would they? They were grown now with families of their own. Our parents were all gone, and it had just been Danny and me, working at building enough for that someday retirement plan. We’d been remodeling the house to get it ready for sale someday in the near future, Danny could never seem to work enough or make enough to feel comfortable with retiring, he had yet to reach his “sweet spot” money-wise. I just sat back and contemplated all of this. If someone would have asked me yesterday what I would do if the world was to end tomorrow, I would not have known what to say. Now here we were with the choice taken right out of our hands. As I sat there pondering all this Danny spoke again. “I wonder why neither of the kids has called us yet?” “Exactly,” I said, squeezing his hand again. “Surely they have heard the news by now.”

Before the words were out of my mouth my cell phone rang. “Mom! Did you hear? I’m in shock, I don’t know what to do!” It was our youngest, Camden. He and his wife Liz had just come back from a trip and now he must be reeling from the news, same as us. “I know, son. I was just talking to Daddy about it and how final it all is. I was telling him we should all be together for the end, no matter what. Do y’all want to pack a bag and come over, stay with us while we figure out what to do?” Silence on the other end for a moment then, “I don’t know, let me call Jeremy and ask him what he thinks, I’ll call you back.” Jeremy was our oldest, he had never married but was living with his girlfriend and her two kids. He never kept a job very long or had a real “life plan” he just kind of floated along by the seat of his pants and the grace of God.

Not that he believed in God, no wonder he hadn’t been taken. We all sin, we’ve all committed sins and yet, we had been lulled into thinking if we lived our lives right and were generally good people, we would definitely enter the Kingdom. Jeremy had never been under that delusion. He swore he was an Atheist, however, I always thought he secretly believed in God, he was always trying to figure out where he fits in the world. He struggled with addiction, relationships, maintaining a job, yet he was a good boy, he had a good heart. I had truly believed he would have been taken, you know how they say God protects drunks and fools. Maybe just keeping him alive was as far as it went. At any rate, he was our kid and we all just needed to be together for the end.

By that evening, we were all sitting on our patio, the kids were in bed, we had grabbed more alcohol and the boys had brought their stashes (we were under no delusions either), and we were having a family discussion that had turned into reminiscing. No longer worried about work, the boys were sharing stories of their childhood and keeping Danny and me in stitches. The girls were trying to be cool, but I could tell they were shell-shocked as any young person would be. Oh, it was ok for us older folks to have to face the end of days, but how unfair for them to be cut down before they’d had a chance to really live. My thought was we all should have lived our lives that way, or we wouldn’t be staring at each other now, at a loss as to how to spend the next seven days. Camden looked over at me, his eyes tearing up, and he said, “What do you want to do Mama?” I guess it was finally sinking in that there was no way out of this for any of us. He was so considerate to ask me what I wanted to do.

“There are so many places I want to go to, so many things I’ve never seen. I appreciate you asking me, but we should all think about this very hard. I’m not the only one with wants and needs here. Y’all are the young folks, what are your thoughts?” I looked from one to the other and at both girls. It was so unfair. Now I felt like crying again, but I couldn’t fall apart now. If the truth is known, Danny was the one who should choose. He worked like a slave all his life to provide us with a roof and food, his ultimate goal had been to retire on the coast somewhere, which we all loved as a family. Silence had fallen again and Camden seemed to have read my mind. “Daddy?” he asked him now. I was uncanny really, not one of us was looking at our stupid phones except for Danny, who was using his to control the music like he always did. He looked at each one of the ladies, and then at the boys before settling on me. “Your mama and I don’t want you boys to feel obligated to spend your final days with us. If you guys want to, say spend the next couple of days doing whatever you want, I say we can meet up at the coast on or before the last day and go out in style.”

Whatever they would have said after that was unknown because as we all sat there with bated breath, the asteroid crashed into the earth and again, the choice was taken completely out of our hands. An enormous boom and the brightest white light ever seen to mankind completely obliterated the scene, vaporizing everything and we never even got the chance to regret our final choice.

#Challengeofthemonth #October #Finaldays

As Cora Green stared out her dining room window, contemplating whether her husband Derrick was having an affair or not, noisy lawnmowers could be heard in the neighborhood, and yellow butterflies were still flittering around her lawn, even though the pin oaks had been spitting hundreds of acorns now for the last three weeks. Texas seemed to want to hold on to summer as long as possible, of course, so did Cora. She could handle Autumn ok she guessed, yet the cold brutality of winter made her bones ache, and she dreaded the thought of having to wear so many clothes. She might have been in her late fifties, yet if it were up to her, she would live where it felt like summer year-round. It was the beginning of fall, hard to believe the holidays were around the corner when it was eighty three degrees outside.

Derrick had been working lots of overtime, claiming there was a new project going on at work, a job he hated. He'd been coming home at midnight or not at all for the past two weeks. Cora knew that a lady he sort of fancied from his old job lived in the city where he worked, about thirty minutes from their home. As Cora continued to stare out the window, listening to the traffic busily racing down the main drag, she wondered why they had been growing so distant and was any of it her fault. Of course, she was quick to blame herself, that was just her nature, but had she been neglecting him? Or was he just stressed out from work and family problems. She could not believe he would really cheat on her, not after the last time so many years ago...maybe. The chimes were tinkling next to the empty bird feeder hanging on their iron post in the front yard. As Cora watched, the next-door neighbor walked ou to the mailbox, reminding her she needed to do the same.

The weather had been so wonky the last three weeks, in the fourties and raining one day, sunny and seventies the next. Mother Nature seemed confused as their were brown leaves on the still-green grass, acorns piled in the flower beds, and the soft, damp eath made the job of pulling weeds a breeze. She came back in from grabbing the mail from the box and decided to go out back and do just that, pull some old flowers and weeds from the corner bed. Maybe her mind would go somewhere else if she turned on some tunes and tried to focus on the holidays, events, and concerts that were filling up her calendar so quickly. As she began to attack the job however, her mind went right back to Derrick. No matter how many times she told herself she wouldn't care if he really was having an affair, she couldn't keep from thinking about it.

She may not have been giving him enough attention in the bedroom, yet he didn't seem to be in the mood these days. Every time she brought it up, suggesting they "get together" before they were both to full or tired to enjoy it, he made some lame excuse or brushed her off like she surely wasn't serious. These actions only fed her wonder as to whether he was really working hard at his job, or losing the passion for her he once had. She didin't want to push him, yet she felt like he was lingering in the relationship like summer seemed to be unable to transition to fall. She was aging sure, but she still looked good for fifty seven, her figure was trim and she worked hard to maintain it. Was there another lady in his life that was giving him something she could not anymore? Her mind just kept going back to the whys of it all. Why would he want to get physical with someone else if he was too tired or unable to make love to her lately? Why, if his sex drive had wained, would he be hot for a new love? Was she boring to him now?

She was driving herself nuts with this, she thought as she ripped weeds with painful stickers growing out of the leaves, the leaves! from the ground. She decided she could not sit and contemplate any more, tonight when he got home, after he got a few beers down, she would come right out and ask him. Okay, but what if he was innocent? She was back inside now, watching the leaves falling like rain and then blowing into the court. The cul-de-sac they lived in was so quiet, they knew no one, and she could sit and watch cars come and go, squirrels scurry around trying to gather nuts for the sure-to-come colder weather. It was almost time to go pick him up from work, maybe she would think of a way to talk to him about it on the drive home, or maybe she would continue to wonder.

#Challengeofthemonth

I had to think of something

I wanted it to flow

Bethany Buchanan seems kinda weird, I know

My mother was Elizabeth

Yet I never had any girls to name after her

So Bethany is an homage to her

Buchanan...I’m just not sure.

#@chainedinshadow

It was a total nightmare, the kind I'll never forget. Our kids were young, and we must have needed a break because in the dream my hubby and the kids and I were at the movies. Josh must have been crying in the seat behind us which is when David reached back there and covered his mouth until he stopped breathing.

I started reading King when I was pretty young, I believe the first book I ever read was The Shining which then started my love affair with his writing. It was his only book that scared me enough to raise the hair on my neck, not that many of his others weren't suspenseful...

As far as I'm concerned, The Shining (first movie anyway) was the best screenplay/adaptation/interpretation of any of his books. Period. Misery was a close second, and Stand By Me (based on a short story called The Body) was a third. 

Now, trying to come up with the worst will be a hard one for me. I don't think Hollywood "gets" King like all of us do, there will never be enough time to properly tell his longer stories on screen, but the real problem is, they all start out with a bang and then fall short or crash completely on the ending. Then what happens is they become instantly forgettable, therefore I cannot decide which movie adaptation was worse. I want to say it was The Tommyknockers or maybe The Langoliers but then again, I can't remember. Whichever movie had the giant, stupid spider thing at the end. Ruined the whole movie for me.

I have not had much time for pleasure reading as of late, and I am way behind on King's latest creations, however, I did see that The Dark Tower series is being made into a movie and I am looking forward to that. Who else was surprised that the lead character (The Gunslinger) was black? I sure was!  #Hairy_Situation

She hated it when he left on one of his business trips, lately, he seemed to be gone more than he was home. She loved him so much and felt so abandoned and unfulfilled these days. Luckily, her bedroom was her sanctuary where her toys kept her company when he did not.

She could do wonders with water too. Her bathtub was her favorite place to be, knowing just how to set the running water to elicit an exciting, throbbing orgasm. Most of the time, she just did it with the water but today she was especially horny and wanted one of her fabulous, flexible, toys. She had acquired quite a few over the years, small and large, some from those at home lingerie parties and some from her favorite adult toys shop.

After booting her dogs out of her bedroom, she crossed the floor to the bedside table and opened the bottom drawer, where she kept the most favorite toy of all. It was blue, rounded on one end, shiny, soft rubber with a variety of settings, designed to bring her to the height of delight. Mindful of the open blinds yet not caring, seemed to bring a heightened sense of excitement and an urgency to get the job done. In the past, even when living alone, masturbating in front of an open window (especially made safer being it was two or three stories high) always made her feel dangerous and upped her ability to achieve orgasm.

Crawling on her bedspread with her ass up in the air and her legs spread, she applied a gentle pressure and turned the vibrator on to the second level. Her heart quickly began to accelerate as she moved the toy exactly where she needed it to reach climax, all the while envisioning a passerby happening on the scene unfolding inside the bedroom. She needn't have worried, as the windows had a dark screen over the outside, possibly preventing prying eyes from what was taking place, yet the thought alone was enough to get her going.

Scrunching the bedspread in her left fist as her right worked the toy until she was close to ecstasy, she also fantasized she was getting licked from behind by a tall, dark, stranger who just happened to show up out of nowhere. Once he got her good and wet, she imagined him taking her ass and shoving his decent sized, fully erect member where no one else had been in years. She imagined the pain would be temporary and the continued vibration working her erogenous zones would make it more than tolerable and with that, she came almost violently. 

'That's what he gets for leaving me alone all the time', she thought as she made her way sassily across the bedroom to the adjoining bath where she planned to shower and get back to her daily activities, now that her cardio was properly taken care of. Come to think of it, the shower massage was just another toy she could add to her box, an imaginary place she stored all her fantasies and the tools she used to get what he couldn't or wouldn't give.

She remembered another time when she was a hot, young thing, before she knew what a real toy was or that such a thing was even available, she would use the base of her toothbrush or even the handle of her hairbrush, never inserting, just playing across her clitoris until she brought herself to the height of ecstasy. She never even considered that these were a type of toy themselves, she just learned early on how to please herself when a man was not in the picture. 

Before she was married, she had been engaged to a handsome, mysterious man who was so obsessed with her and wanted only to fulfill her sexual desires any way he could. She longed for that kind of relationship again and wondered why it never worked out for them. Why, they never needed any kind of toy save for a pair of handcuffs or a nice silk scarf to have the most titallating, exciting sex of her life! However the more she thought back on it, the more she remembered, like the fact that he wanted her in bed more than out of it. He liked to tie her up and tease her until she begged for mercy, sometimes fucking her until she was sore. She related such a story to her mother once who urged her to break up with him before he really hurt her.

She remembered another time when he ignored her "safe" word and, thinking she was drunk enough, attempted to take her from behind while she was tied, spread eagle on the bed, blindfolded for extra sensory delight, yet that was not what she felt on that particular occasion. His Greek heritage should have made her aware of his dark intentions, but she had trusted him not to take the game too far. That was her fault she guessed, and as he plunged into her back side while fingering her hot, wet vagina, she screamed and he claimed she was just that into it. So he kept going but her rigitidy caused her to tighten her anal muscles and he actually ripped her sensitive tissues. Now she remembered why they didn't work out. That kind of adoration and possession she could do without, thank you very much.

Maybe it was her lot in life, she thought, to be stuck in a safe and boring marriage, with only her toys to please her when her urges reached a fever pitch. She figured what was the harm, he never suspected (as far as she knew) and she always made sure to make him feel like a man when he was home and gave her any affection. It just seemed to her he was gone an awful lot, how many business trips could one employer want? Maybe he was having an affair, no that couldn't be it. After all, she had bought him his own special toy...oh wait! What if he had it with him

She hated it when he left on one of his business trips, lately, he seemed to be gone more than he was home. She loved him so much and felt so abandoned and unfulfilled these days. Luckily, her bedroom was her sanctuary where her toys kept her company when he did not.

She could do wonders with water too. Her bathtub was her favorite place to be, knowing just how to set the running water to elicit an exciting, throbbing orgasm. Most of the time, she just did it with the water but today she was especially horny and wanted one of her fabulous, flexible, toys. She had acquired quite a few over the years, small and large, some from those at home lingerie parties and some from her favorite adult toys shop.

After booting her dogs out of her bedroom, she crossed the floor to the bedside table and opened the bottom drawer, where she kept the most favorite toy of all. It was blue, rounded on one end, shiny, soft rubber with a variety of settings, designed to bring her to the height of delight. Mindful of the open blinds yet not caring, seemed to bring a heightened sense of excitement and an urgency to get the job done. In the past, even when living alone, masturbating in front of an open window (especially made safer being it was two or three stories high) always made her feel dangerous and upped her ability to achieve orgasm.

Crawling on her bedspread with her ass up in the air and her legs spread, she applied a gentle pressure and turned the vibrator on to the second level. Her heart quickly began to accelerate as she moved the toy exactly where she needed it to reach climax, all the while envisioning a passerby happening on the scene unfolding inside the bedroom. She needn't have worried, as the windows had a dark screen over the outside, possibly preventing prying eyes from what was taking place, yet the thought alone was enough to get her going.

Scrunching the bedspread in her left fist as her right worked the toy until she was close to ecstasy, she also fantasized she was getting licked from behind by a tall, dark, stranger who just happened to show up out of nowhere. Once he got her good and wet, she imagined him taking her ass and shoving his decent sized, fully erect member where no one else had been in years. She imagined the pain would be temporary and the continued vibration working her erogenous zones would make it more than tolerable and with that, she came almost violently. 

'That's what he gets for leaving me alone all the time', she thought as she made her way sassily across the bedroom to the adjoining bath where she planned to shower and get back to her daily activities, now that her cardio was properly taken care of. Come to think of it, the shower massage was just another toy she could add to her box, an imaginary place she stored all her fantasies and the tools she used to get what he couldn't or wouldn't give.

She remembered another time when she was a hot, young thing, before she knew what a real toy was or that such a thing was even available, she would use the base of her toothbrush or even the handle of her hairbrush, never inserting, just playing across her clitoris until she brought herself to the height of ecstasy. She never even considered that these were a type of toy themselves, she just learned early on how to please herself when a man was not in the picture. 

Before she was married, she had been engaged to a handsome, mysterious man who was so obsessed with her and wanted only to fulfill her sexual desires any way he could. She longed for that kind of relationship again and wondered why it never worked out for them. Why, they never needed any kind of toy save for a pair of handcuffs or a nice silk scarf to have the most titallating, exciting sex of her life! However the more she thought back on it, the more she remembered, like the fact that he wanted her in bed more than out of it. He liked to tie her up and tease her until she begged for mercy, sometimes fucking her until she was sore. She related such a story to her mother once who urged her to break up with him before he really hurt her.

She remembered another time when he ignored her "safe" word and, thinking she was drunk enough, attempted to take her from behind while she was tied, spread eagle on the bed, blindfolded for extra sensory delight, yet that was not what she felt on that particular occasion. His Greek heritage should have made her aware of his dark intentions, but she had trusted him not to take the game too far. That was her fault she guessed, and as he plunged into her back side while fingering her hot, wet vagina, she screamed and he claimed she was just that into it. So he kept going but her rigitidy caused her to tighten her anal muscles and he actually ripped her sensitive tissues. Now she remembered why they didn't work out. That kind of adoration and possession she could do without, thank you very much.

Maybe it was her lot in life, she thought, to be stuck in a safe and boring marriage, with only her toys to please her when her urges reached a fever pitch. She figured what was the harm, he never suspected (as far as she knew) and she always made sure to make him feel like a man when he was home and gave her any affection. It just seemed to her he was gone an awful lot, how many business trips could one employer want? Maybe he was having an affair, no that couldn't be it. After all, she had bought him his own special toy...oh wait! What if he had it with him?

I wish my husband would exercise the good sense the Lord gave him and trust his instincts enough to realize he can quit working for the city and retire. He has plenty of skills and could either start his own business or do something in a field he likes at least. He swears he loves his job, yet all the bitching he does about it tells me otherwise. We have dreams and plans for retiring to the coast someday, I want that to be while we are young enough to enjoy it. Of course, we have to wait a while before we make that final move, since we have family here to consider, however, he could still retire and start working on fulfilling a new dream until then. He has always wanted to take people out fishing, he could get his captain's license so that when we do move to the coast, he is ready for the challenge. Another dream of his is to open a franchise or his own restaurant, he could start researching how to do that. Why must he always stick with what is inside his comfort zone instead of taking a risk and trying for a little adventure?

I have told him many times that I am game for whatever he chooses to do, even if that means we don't enjoy the same lifestyle we currently do. I work part time and write a few days a week, that could be done from anywhere. I could continue what I am doing until we moved and then find another job when we get there. We have money invested, yet he never thinks it's enough. Will it ever be? If someone offered us a cabin close to the beach where we want to retire, even if he decided we weren't "ready" yet, I would be the first to say, "Yes, please!" I have faith in him, I just wish he had as much faith in himself. Our dream is to someday live close to the area we love at the southern coast of Texas, my preference would be a beach cabin or condo close enough that I could enjoy morning walks on the beach. I want to drink coffee on our porch while simultaneously staring out at the waves rolling in off the gulf. From a nice rocking chair would be perfect. Does that not sound like paradise to you? 

Of course, the other part of my wish is that I could make enough from my writing that he could retire and not work anymore anywhere! He would happily wile away the hours on a golf course, or fishing from his million dollar sportfishing boat that I would buy him with my hard earned money. I would write a best seller a year and life would be perfect. While that may sound like a fantasy to you, I think it is totally doable. 

He has retired twice before, so we have those incomes and he has had a dream of getting his captains license and opening a charter business for sport fishing. He also talks of opening some kind of restaurant or franchise, I think he would be great at it, with his cooking skills and mind for business, he would totally rock it, I'm sure. He worries about money all of the time and wants to work long enough that he's secure with quitting. Is there ever such a time? I say just risk it and see what happens. Worse comes to worse, I can go back to a full time job or we get used to a simpler lifestyle, we are pretty spoiled truth be known. We could make do with a lot less, we just don't want to if we could figure out how to sustain our current one. Not that we are rich, don't get me wrong, yet we are completely comfortable.

I wish he could get out of his head and just go for it. Of course, I could work harder to become rich as a writer, increase my side hustles or just start my own business once we retire. Who knows, I might be able to buy him that boat someday after all. A girl can dream, right?