The Bettermost Drabblefest: Please Join In!

[Lumière]

Wet..

Ennis closed his eyes and steadied himself, open palms pressed hard against the cold, wet tiles.  Jack leaned heavily against his back.  He snaked his arms underneath Ennis’ outstretched ones and rubbed the bar of soap slowly over the hard chest, warm water raining down.  Ennis gasped from the simple touch; rivulets of water ran down his face into his open mouth.  Every part of his body that Jack caressed seemed to tingle; every touch was as exquisitely soft and smooth and delicate as the finest silk upon his skin. He could feel Jack’s erection pressed tightly against the small of his back, sliding slowly and teasingly on the wet skin. 

“Oh Jack..” he sighed, moaning with pleasure as a soapy hand enveloped his rigid, aching dick; sliding up and down the entire length of him - amazingly, tauntingly slow, driving him mad with desire.  Just when he was starting to think he couldn’t last another minute of this, Jack stopped stroking him … A wet whisper from behind him drifted to his ears, “I need ya to feel me inside ya … please let me..” he begged.

“Please Jack ..” he breathed again, sucking in air as he felt Jack push in, slowly at first and then he was all in; one arm holding fast to Ennis’ hip, another reaching around him.  Ennis gasped and swallowed a mouthful of water … Jack was moving inside him, kissing him to the north, stroking him to the south.. He was drowning in the sensuous, profound depths of longing; craving, begging and moaning for more …

She lay very still on her corner of the bed, weak arms holding the quilt tightly against her chest.  She stared out into the empty darkness, unblinking eyes fixed blankly at the ceiling.  A tear ran down the corner of her eye and into her ear.  She listened helplessly as he whimpered for the third time, “Oh Jack...”


                                           

[jpwagoneer1964]

Ennis thinking to Jack
Jack...Jack I'm sorry I had to send you away. I can't tell you how bad I feel, know I won't sleep a wink thinkin' what I put you through.. I sent you the card to let you know my troubles, felt better that I could tell 'm to you. I just wasn't thinkin', didn't know what the words would mean to you. I took that smile of yours right off you face, never saw ya lookin' so sad. So sorry ya came all this way, wouldn't blame ya a bit if ya never came back. Jack...Jack it felt so good to be in in your arms, see that smile 'fore I took it away. Jack I hope you can forgive me, and sure hope you be there next month like ya said.

[mariez]

TH ~  Your drabble created a picture in my head ...

The black and tan stood barking, a silk scarf about its neck. 
Along the road he saw a woman with a profound, mesmerized gaze about her. 
The dog left to follow.

...


A little boy burst onto the road from a nearby field;
Peddling eagerly on an oversized bike.
The old black and tan yelped and chased after him;
The colourful silk scarf floating like butterflies in the wind.
They blew past the woman in the blue dress
Heading for the little farmhouse half a mile away.
“Ennis!  Slow down before ya hurt yerself!” she cried,
Shaking her head as her son wobbled on the old bike..

Wow!! A drabble inspiring a drabble - I think that may be a first!  I love it, M!  Yes, TH's wonderful drabble stayed in my mind, too.  What a creative gift you both have.
 

.  . . A tear ran down the corner of her eye and into her ear.  She listening helplessly as he whimpered for the third time, “Oh Jack...” 

Gasp - I wasn't expecting that.  Oh, my . . .  You weren't kidding about the bushels! 

Ennis thinking to Jack
Jack...Jack I'm sorry I had to send you away. I can't tell you how bad I feel, know I won't sleep a wink thinkin' what I put you through.. I sent you the card to let you know my troubles, felt better that I could tell 'm to you. I just wasn't thinkin', didn't know what the words would mean to you. I took that smile of yours right off you face, never saw ya lookin' so sad. So sorry ya came all this way, wouldn't blame ya a bit if ya never came back. Jack...Jack it felt so good to be in in your arms, see that smile 'fore I took it away. Jack I hope you can forgive me, and sure hope you be there next month like ya said.   

Thank you for this, Mark.  It's exactly what I imagine Ennis's thoughts were. 

Thanks, again
Marie

[Cameron]

(...and Marl sneaks in here real fast and drops this off, hoping no one will see her cause it is way over...)

The Explanation Continued

(July 2003)
Ennis looked at the artist.  He was sitting at the table with his head down.  The incense had almost burned down to the end.  The artist was now paler than anyone he had ever seen.  Paler than he thought a person could be.  It was almost the early hours of the morning.

“Look” Ennis said.  “I don’t understand, I don’t understand how any of this has to do with Jack and me.”

The artist raised his head.  His eyes were pale and sad, and now red from unseen tears.

He whispered “It has a lot to do with you….”  He paused then leaned toward Ennis “and Jack.”  He whispered it as if he could not bear to say his name.

The artist got up and left the room.  He came back with something black and tan in his hands.  It was silk, a scarf.  The artist sat back down.  Ennis just stared but nothing was any clearer at all.  Nothing made any sense.

“But then after seven years, my….,my friend, he decided to go back.  He said he needed to help at home.  So he left New York City.  I would have gone with him, I would have gone anywhere with him.”  The artist continued but then stopped and closed his eyes.  He held the scarf to his head.

“I would have gone, I wanted to go…..” the artist said with his voice now trembling and lost.  “I kept telling him that I wanted to go, that I needed to go, but he said no.  He said he had to go home, but he couldn’t live this way at home.  He couldn’t live with another man where he came from.  He just said no.”

Ennis reached out and touched the scarf, it was smooth and cool.

“That was almost four years ago, at first I didn’t know how I could make it.  He called me sometimes, he said there was no reason we couldn’t still be in touch, but I couldn’t stand it that way.  That’s when I began to make the things, only smaller at first.  That was the only thing that kept me sane.  No, not sane, alive.”  The artist stood up and walked towards the window and looked outside.  He turned back around.  “Then about two years ago he called one day.  He left a message on my machine.  He was crying.  He said something happened.  He begged me to come and see him.  He ended the message saying ‘there’s a reason, I finally understand why it is this way.”

“I had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded very profound.  He never cried before.  I was on the plane the very next day” the artist said as he sat back down at the table.

The artist looked troubled, his brow was wrinkled and his eyes looked almost white in the soft kitchen light and they glistened with tears.  He was twisting one end of the black and tan scarf in his hands.

Ennis looked at his watch.  It was a very old watch.  It was early in the morning.  He rubbed his forehead.  He was very tired and his head again felt like it would explode.  He took the other end of the scarf in his hands.

[TH]

Wow!! A drabble inspiring a drabble - I think that may be a first!  I love it, M!  Yes, TH's wonderful drabble stayed in my mind, too.  What a creative gift you both have.

 Not the first actually but perhaps the first sent in.  There was a drabble a little while ago that inspired one and I wrote the author to ask if it was ok to build on a drabble.  I was asked not to. 

  thanks for your comments.

[Lumière]

(...and Marl sneaks in here real fast and drops this off, hoping no one will see her cause it is way over...)

The Explanation Continued

Hmmm...And of course, you would end the drabble just when the explanation was getting all detailed .. 

Cheers Marl.
~M

[Cameron]

Sorry about all the angst ..

Sorry?  Would we all be Brokies if we didn't love angst........?
 

Marl

[fernly]

Present

        The girls were at school, so she had most of the day. She put the key in the lock, turned it, heard the familiar click. She reached up, but didn't quite touch the 2 on the door. Last time she’d have to come back here. Just a couple more boxes to sort through. Wipe down the counters and sink in the kitchen. She'd just been too tired last night to do one more thing. Then she'd drop the key off at the real estate office.  Monroe had offered to help today, like he had other days, but she'd refused this time. Needed to have this last day here by herself. Finish things.
        Once the kitchen was clean, cleaner than it had ever been while they were living here she admitted ruefully to herself, she sat down on the floor, pulled the boxes close, and started making two piles, one for keeping, one for throwing out. She didn't think the keeping pile would be very big. What was still here was leftovers, things she or the girls hadn't put in one of the boxes that had already been taken to their new house. Her new house. She smiled at that, disbelieving still, but daring herself to be happy.
        A faded pillowcase. Throw-away pile. A spiral notebook, every page empty. She put it in the keep pile. One of the girls could use it. An old gray and black wool scarf, wound tight around two gray mittens. And she was flung back twelve years, to a cold day in November, snow turning everything outside the windows white, her first full day married. Watching Ennis carefully open the package she'd handed him. He'd pulled the mittens on, but he put the scarf gently around her neck when he saw she didn't have one, said he didn't really feel the cold. And he didn't seem to. He would have stayed out on that hill for hours longer than her, flying down it over and over. Just that one day. They never went back. She never saw him wear the mittens again or the scarf ever. When she asked, he said they were too good for his work on the road crew or at the ranch. She fingered the sturdy rows of stitches. Remembered knitting them that summer. Would have been fine, but he didn't want them. She put the little bundle on the throw-away pile.



and yes, obsessive canon-ite that I am (at least up to this point in the movie) the scarf and mittens are movie-canon, though of course their origins and significance are open to interpretation

fellow drabblers - today as always it's a pleasure to read your work
Marie - I am so grateful for the time you take to read and comment.

[MaineWriter]

Hello all...

Let's go with these:

• Easter bunny
• crocuses
• heel

L

[TH]

   Alma said "No" to his having the girls.  He threw the chocolate Easter Bunny, eggs and crocuses behind the trailer, turned on his heel and went back to work. 

(words:  29)