Friday Snippet 45

Apparition of the Face of Aphrodite
by Salvador Dali
print for sale at art.com

Update: the snippet is pasted in. It's Tuesday morning. Sigh.

You guessed it. Its just a shell yet again. I'll do my best to get the snippet pasted in tomorrow. So much for my best!

Meanwhile...

You can catch up or review via the links to the first eight parts available below.

Thanks for your patience.

Home Is Where the Horror Is
by Joy Renee

(part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten;)

Crystal's heart now pounded furiously and she couldn't catch her breath. Her vision was browning out around the edges and her teeth began to chatter. When she felt a hand on her shoulder she jumped and choked off a scream as she looked up into the concerned eyes of the housekeeper.

"Honey. Are you sick?"

Crystal slowly shook her head, whispering, "I don't know how I got here."

"Well that does sometimes happen the day after." the woman gave a meaningful glance at the wastebasket overflowing with beer and liquor bottles.

"I know." Crystal hung her head. "But never this bad before. Never this much time missing. At least a whole day. And I can't find my duffel or my sandals." She spun her head around giving the room a frantic scan. "Maybe they took them to keep me from leaving? Maybe that's why she didn't carry her own bag?"

Crystal held up the red beach bag. "This couple sat by me on the beach yesterday and shared their lunch with me. She was carrying this bag. I think the drink they gave me was drugged. My memories start flickering about the time I started drinking that soda."

"Honey, you should come with me to the office and call the cops."

Crystal shook her head and jumped up in a panic. "No!"

"You can't stay here! Not if you think these people did that."

"I know!" Crystal started yanking on the blankets that had fallen to the floor at the foot of the bed. "That's why I need to find my bag and shoes."

More than the beach sandals, even more than the windbreaker and sweats that kept off the chill of the night time breezes off the ocean, she was thinking of the photos of Winston, Jade, Jasper, Mother and baby Beryl. How could she go on without even their pictures? Though she realized that after more than six months none of them would look much like their photos anymore. Even Mother, whose picture had been taken over a year ago, before she was expecting Beryl; before the stroke that melted the right side of her face. She wondered if Beryl was saying 'Mama' yet.

Just then, as if her very thoughts had conjured it, she heard the sound of baby babble and burble. It was coming from the housekeeper who reached a hand into one of the deep pockets of her apron and pulled out a baby monitor, flashed it at Crystal before dropping it back into the pocket and reaching for Crystals free hand, the one not holding the flyer and Polaroids. She grabbed it firmly. "You're coming with me. Don't worry about your stuff we'll figure it out."