Lost Pet

JournalWord: Murdering a microwave.

::

He slams open the cupboard doors, still ungratified by the crack of wood clattering onto the tile counter and the smacking it makes on the linoleum floor. He fingers the empty glass by the sink and swipes it to the floor with a sweep of his arm. He swipes at another glass, a small smile 

lifting his frown. He rips off another cupboard door from its hinges, then pulls the fridge door off with a spray of sparks.

"Find what you wanted, Riche?"

"Hardly." He doesn't even turn around and continues to kick the microwave he has just tossed to the floor.

Clement leans on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, watching his friend brutally murder his microwave as if this scenario is a daily occurrence. "Riche, what is it this time?" he tries again. 

"I'm looking for my pet," is the reply before Riche hefts the rest of the fridge over his shoulder and smashes it onto the demolished rubble that used to be his microwave.

"And have you found it yet, because, seriously. My kitchen is being severely destroyed and I'd rather you don't harm anymore of my household appliances."

Riche chooses not to answer, filling the unspoken reply with sure kicks into the gut of the toppled fridge.

"Riche," Clement starts, not wanting to play Riche's game. "You refuse to associate with human beings, let alone with animals. What is wrong?" 

There's a moment before Riche speaks. "My pet ran away and I'm looking for her."

"Riche," Clement warns. 

Riche turns his back away and crouches, examining the wires and other components spilling out of the gutted fridge. "I don't like pets," Riche mumbles. "They're so pure and innocent, and are so willing to open their hearts to humans without a sense of hesitation." Riche grasps a handful of colourful wires and rips them out of their sockets with a yank. "But this one 

is different. It has nothing to do with purity and innocence, and all that lovey crap others like her have."

"Then what is it?" Clement asks, startling Riche. Riche tenses and stands up, the bundle of wires still in his tight fist.

"She won't open her heart," he whispers. Riche lets go of the wires, and watches them fall lightly onto the chaos he created.

::

Oh! This is going to definitely be a busy semester! My class schedule is all over the place, with 6 hour breaks between classes and days that stretch from 8am to 10pm. I hope I don't burnout! 

I've also got an interview for a hospital volunteering position in the ER Information desk on Tuesday! So nervous! I need the hours for my requirements to BCIT, but I'm also excited to be volunteering again! Fingers crossed that I make a great impression >.<!!

Gonna keep positive!
Mera!

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Ax-Amore

JournalWord: She's sex.

***

She's sex, with stiletto heels and dragging her bright red ax behind her. Her thin heels click on the tiles of the building's floor as she exits the elevator. Her hips sway, tantalizingly slow in her catwalk march away from the open metal doors and petrified man. 

The impeccably suited businessman's lips tremble, sporting her vibrant lipstick, tremendously confused and terrified as he brings a trembling hand to slick his hair back into its original gelled-down state. 

She doesn't look back when the doors completely close, instead, continues down the hall, sliding her ax over the tiles, hoping it will scratch. She regards the secretaries with a challenging smirk that sets them back down onto their seats when they notice the ax. She knows that security is going to be sent, so she better hurry this up. 

Interns drop their stacks of documents when she passes them, shocked into frozen spectators, moving out of her path with gaping mouths. She finds his office fairly easy and doesn't knock. When she opens the door, he's on the phone, face low to his desk, writing down as he amicably speaks to the person on the other end. He doesn't even look up from his papers when she closes the door. 

She softly tuts at his inattention and transfers the ax slowly so it rests comfortably between her manicured hands. Her fingers flex before hefting the ax up onto her shoulder. She walks forward towards his desk, and before he can fully acknowledge her presence, she slams the ax down. 

The ax chops through the wood of his jomocha desk, trapping the papers he was writing on as it embeds itself into the grain. The edge of the ax peeks through the wood, inches from his nose. The pen in his hand drops onto the desk, rolling to greet the ax that is inches away. 

He is silent when he lifts his head, and she greets him with a perfect, angelic smile, cracking open her devilish lips to display her pearly teeth. While he is still speechless, she pivots on the ball of her black heels so he can see the splash of crimson on her soles before she struts to the door. 

When she opens the door, security waits outside to swarm her, but she holds her hand up to stop them. They look into the office to see her damage and are as stunned as he is, producing a pathway for her in their shocked stupor. 

She sways her hips tantalizingly slow on her exit, a little smile on her vermilion lips. Her hand tosses her hair over her shoulder when she approaches the elevator, a coo of surprise when the man she had left in the elevator is still there, still stunned. She enters the elevator, presses the button for the ground floor and to close the door, and grabs the paralyzed man's unwrinkled tie to pull him in for a kiss.

***

I'm still thinking about red (teehee!). But I've got to say, this is my ideal woman, the epitome of sex: the devilish goddess. Now, how sexy is that! Everyone can feel sexy (especially when doing something down-right naughty and dangerous!), just need the self-confidence to achieve it.

Purposely lacking in description and detail, because, hey, this can be anyone. A dangerous smile and something that makes you feel pretty (seductive) is all that is needed. In this case, it's manicured nails and a pair of gorgeous shoes (I love-love-love shoes.).

I liked using words for surprise here, if you can tell ;P

Now, be good,

Mera ;)

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