The Bettermost Drabblefest: Please Join In!

[elomelo]

Whiskey

The bottle was warmed by their fingers. They passed it between themselves like the time and conversation.

The bottle was even warmer, forgotten by the fire outside the tent. Their breaths smelled of its contents. Their breaths mingled.

The bottle's cold now, even as he grips it tightly between calloused, work-worn fingers. Because there are no other hands to pass it too.

[mariez]

.. taking in the other's words that made up for the lack of his own.

.....Because there are no other hands to pass it too.

Wow - amazing drabbles, elomelo!  They cut right to the heart.  Thank you.

Marie

[mariez]

And quickly off the top of my head, some prompts for today! 

• tax/taxes
• deliver/delilvery
• clear/clearly

Marie

[elomelo]

Thanks Mariez - yours too!

I have to get going unfortunately but when I'll be back I'll be sure to try out these drabbles for size.

here's a few of my own prompts:

- temptation
- armidillos
- silver

Hugs!

[mariez]

A little something inspired by the "silver" prompt - and I just realized it also uses "clearly." 

Precious Things

She finished reading his letter and sat quietly for a few moments before taking the silver tray out of the drawer and carefully unwrapping it from the soft cotton cloth, making sure her bare hands didn't mar the surface.  A soft smile lit her face as she remembered how reverently her mother had always handled the precious heirloom, donning her white gloves before daring to touch it. 

She'd always imagined that she would pass it on, a special wedding gift to commemorate her only son's special day with his special someone….

She paused and thought yet again of those two shirts in the back of his closet, the one so carefully wrapped and protected inside the other, so clearly his own precious things…..and then re-wrapped the silver tray and placed it in back in the drawer.

~~~~~~~
135 Words

[elomelo]

A little something inspired by the "silver" prompt - and I just realized it also uses "clearly." 

Precious Things

She finished reading his letter and sat quietly for a few moments before taking the silver tray out of the drawer and carefully unwrapping it from the soft cotton cloth, making sure her bare hands didn't mar the surface.  A soft smile lit her face as she remembered how reverently her mother had always handled the precious heirloom, donning her white gloves before daring to touch it. 

She'd always imagined that she would pass it on, a special wedding gift to commemorate her only son's special day with his special someone….

She paused and thought yet again of those two shirts in the back of his closet, the one so carefully wrapped and protected inside the other, so clearly his own precious things…..and then re-wrapped the silver tray and placed it in back in the drawer.

~~~~~~~
135 Words

*gasp* I feel that heart wrenching again... Always do when I remember the shirts.

Great one, Marie!

[elomelo]

For delivery...

A desolate, sandy lot and a yellowing trailer. When Jerry said 'out in the middle of nowhere', he wasn't kidding.

Henry looked down at the crumpled paper for what seemed like the hundredth time, then at the crooked mailbox. It was the right place and he could just slip in the box...no, he'd been given strict orders to deliver it personally.

Well, I'm here, ain't I?

He took a quick, sharp breath and knocked loudly on the door. He didn't notice the blinds of the window shift suddenly. A man answered. He was tall and lean as a beanpole, with dirty blonde hair and hard brown eyes that glared at Henry accusingly. He was holding a denim shirt in his grasp, knuckles white.

Henry checked the paper again quickly. "Mr. del Mar?"

"Ennis." The voice was gravelly, seemingly older than the fourty-something the man seemed to be.

"Right. Uh, this is a package for you. Sir."

The man named Ennis looked at the box in question, his expression deadpan. "Who's it from?"

"Someone by the name of...", another quick glance at the paper, "Alma."

"Alma?"

"Junior."

"Oh...where do I sign?"

"Uh, um," he handed the man the clipboard and the pen, pointing at the blank square, "right there...yeah, right. Thanks, Mr. del Mar." He handed him the package. "Have a good-"

But the man had shut the door and had retreated back to the darkness of his trailer. Henry sighed and got back into the second hand car, and pulled out of the lot.

The man, once inside the safe isolation of the nook assigned to his bed, ripped off the brown paper and took out the shoebox. It was worn and faded like everything else that bore witness to what once was. He read the postcards, despite how sore his eyes would be looking at the print, and drank himself to sleep, clutching the half-open box to his chest.

[mariez]

... It was worn and faded like everything else that bore witness to what once was...

Oh, Ennis.    This left me heartshot; I can't even read the last sentence again.


For any weekend drabblers, a few prompts:

• eager
• balance
• phobia

 

 
Marie

[elomelo]

Balance, for good measure.

Enter stage. Right and left.

Black and white. Blue and brown. Dimpled smiles and tight lipped nods. Their words, his loud, his quieter, coated with genuine laughter and contentment and cheap whiskey and the ripening summer. A flattened harmonica that didn't sound quite right and a pawn shop carving knife.

He smiles over rusty cup, cautious and careful like his movements and the few words that grow in number with the days and the scratches in the dirt. He's never really had a friend before. This is new. Like the company and the plunging of his stomach when he speaks about a red haired girl he can't look in the eye when he wants to pursue more than light pecks. So he only speaks about her when need be, not more or less. His eyes plays tricks on him. Because the other boy's shoulders don't really sag at the mention of a certain red haired girl. Because no one's eyes could be that blue. Because he's not transparent and those eyes don't see through him without any judgement.

When he's out there, outside the pup tent that smells like cat piss - 'huh, wonder how he knows what that smells like' - with only the company of a cigarette and the sheep, he mulls his thoughts over like water over stone, eroding. He was never much of a talker or a socialite, even before the accident. Maybe his mother could coax words out of him easily with that warm smile and a promise of stories of dragons and cowboys, and apple pie.

He misses his mother. He never told Karen - she had enough on her mind with providing for her brothers and her fiance. She used to be gentle and full of laughter, like Ma, but all Ennis could remember was stern words and a woman that grew up too fast. Telling K.E. wasn't even a possibility. Most people found it hard to believe the two del Mar brothers were related - K.E. was loud, boisterous and known to be violent.

He doesn't know it yet but he will tell someone these things. Maybe not by the fire with the whiskey passed between them like an unsaid truce, but in a tent where their breaths will mingle like fog and their fingers will trace shapeless figures on warm faces and lips.

------

Not much of an ending but I dunno..just came to me all of a sudden. I'm worn out all of a sudden. 

[fernly]

Balance, for good measure.

...

 Because no one's eyes could be that blue. Because he's not transparent and those eyes don't see through him without any judgement.

....
He doesn't know it yet but he will tell someone these things. Maybe not by the fire with the whiskey passed between them like an unsaid truce, but in a tent where their breaths will mingle like fog and their fingers will trace shapeless figures on warm faces and lips.

------

Not much of an ending ....

Beg to differ. I think it's a hell of an ending. Whole thing's absolutely lovely.
Welcome to the Fest.
And thank you for your drabbles. I'm really enjoying them.

Fern