The Bettermost Drabblefest: Please Join In!

[ifyoucantfixit]

         Ennis was resigned now.  He would not be getting back to Jack, this time.      
       This woman was giving him the hope for a few days extra work.  Lord knows he sure could use it.  He grabbed his jacket, and his thermos, figuring to fill it at the diner. 
         He had told Ms Proulx, he would drive his own truck, and meet her there.  He pulled his keys from his pocket and headed for the door.  When he remembered Juniors sweater, she had left it here the other day, when she came to announce her upcoming marriage.  Deciding he might as well take it to her, he went back to the closet and pulled it off the shelf.  No telling when she would get back out here he figured.  He glanced at the shirts hanging on the nail.  Giving the smallest trace of a smile," Jack, he faultered, so quiet you would not even notice, if you were standin next to him.   Maybe i'll see ya again tonight."

[outrider]

spirits in the night: 
gypsy angel row: 
dancin in the moonlight:


http://bettermost.net/forum/index.php/topic,9354.new.html#new

[MaineWriter]

Maybe the best cure for getting a song out of your head is to write it into a drabble. Writing in a universe where I have never gone before...

Ennis poked at the fire, watching the sparks fly up and the embers glow red. He took another swig from the bottle, and willed his heart still. “You here, Jack?” he said softly, looking out into the darkness beyond the light of the flames. “You with me tonight…you a spirit tonight, Jack?”

He paused, waiting for an answer, listening inside himself. “Maybe yer a gypsy angel…a rogue, on loan from the angels up on Venus.”

He stood up, lurching, drunk. “We can go dancin in the moonlight, Jack. You n me, spirits in the night…all night…”

(96 words)

[outrider]

He stood up, lurching, drunk. “We can go dancin in the moonlight, Jack. You n me, spirits in the night…all night…”

  Whoah...  Good or what!   I guess its the immediacy of it...  -smile

[Scott6373]

It's been a while since I've done this (I don't get to say that very often)     For Lee

Dancin’ in the moonlight  7/10/07

He sat up until very late.  The sun had long since bid its farewell to the unctuous heat of the day.  He was glad for the extra pints of whiskey he brought.  It dulled the edge of pain that cut into his every though.  Why he chose to come here was beyond him.  He had avoided it for so long.

The last tongues of flame died away in his campfire, and left him lit only by the soggy, cotton moonlight.  The valley beneath him was shrouded in a haze, either of God’s or Jim Beam’s making, he could not say, but the light was enough to let him see what he was meant to see.

The two men rolled in the high grass: raised themselves up, and chased around like puppies in the throes of an inexplicable burst of energy, that was patently created for the young.  Eventually, the movements of the two men slowed, and became more undulating.  They grew closer in their physicality, until the dark outlines of each was individually indiscernible, and they became a single form, dancing in the moonlight.   As he watched them and yearned to be there:  to be one of them, he knew instinctively, he was one of them.  The unavoidable veil of alcohol descended on him, and sent him deep into a dreamless sleep.  He awoke the next morning, as wordless and soulless as when he arrived, and the knowledge that he would never return to Brokeback Mountain was already as secure a part of him as his skin.

257 Words

[Clyde-B]

 
    The moon shown full, icy clouds chewed its edge, October chilled the air.
     “Reminds me a Greasy Lake.”
     Ennis knew what it meant when Jack talked creepy with the corners of his mouth turned too high.  “Uh huh.”
     “That’s where gypsy angels go.  Dancin in the moonlight like spirits in the night.”
     “All night?”
     “All night.  They call it gypsy angel row.  You don’t know what they can do to you.”
      Ennis popped the top snap of Jack’s shirt.
     “What’re you doin?”
     “Gettin to the makin love in the dirt part a that song.  Never thought I’d like Bruce Springsteen.”

   
     100 words
 

[MaineWriter]

Outrider...thanks for your comment.

Scott...welcome back and with a great drabble!

Clyde...you made me laugh out loud. "Never thought I'd like Bruce Springsteen..."

Thanks all...

L

[outrider]

   ... and again... 

spirits in the night: 
gypsy angel row: 
dancin in the moonlight:

http://bettermost.net/forum/index.php/topic,9354.new.html#new

[outrider]

the soggy, cotton moonlight. 

  Damn!  I wanted to use that line!  (If I had only thought of it. -big grin)

  Great image...  and the scene you sketched of the mountainside is compelling... to say the least...  -smile... 

[loneleeb3]

Thank you Scott!
That was beautiful!

It's been a while since I've done this (I don't get to say that very often)     For Lee

Dancin’ in the moonlight  7/10/07

He sat up until very late.  The sun had long since bid its farewell to the unctuous heat of the day.  He was glad for the extra pints of whiskey he brought.  It dulled the edge of pain that cut into his every though.  Why he chose to come here was beyond him.  He had avoided it for so long.

The last tongues of flame died away in his campfire, and left him lit only by the soggy, cotton moonlight.  The valley beneath him was shrouded in a haze, either of God’s or Jim Beam’s making, he could not say, but the light was enough to let him see what he was meant to see.

The two men rolled in the high grass: raised themselves up, and chased around like puppies in the throes of an inexplicable burst of energy, that was patently created for the young.  Eventually, the movements of the two men slowed, and became more undulating.  They grew closer in their physicality, until the dark outlines of each was individually indiscernible, and they became a single form, dancing in the moonlight.   As he watched them and yearned to be there:  to be one of them, he knew instinctively, he was one of them.  The unavoidable veil of alcohol descended on him, and sent him deep into a dreamless sleep.  He awoke the next morning, as wordless and soulless as when he arrived, and the knowledge that he would never return to Brokeback Mountain was already as secure a part of him as his skin.

257 Words