#WIPflash – week 1

Winner: Honorable Mention!

@caramichaels was nice enough to grace us with a new contest, one that asks the writer to incorporate prompts into his or her WIP. I actually have a WIP, or I think I do, so I entered. Scene 4 of I don’t know how many – The Time-Travelling Umbrella, continued.

Prompt: http://www.caramichaels.com/defiantlyliterate/2013/01/04/wipflash-week-1/

Marcus slammed the door and marched over to where Simon lay on the sofa. His uneven temper had been apparent ever since they’d met, but Simon had really grown tired of being the subject of tantrums. He’d been the one with the umbrella, after all, and it had only been his general desire to avoid confrontation that had led him to accede to Marcus coming with him during the next Flicker. Now it was 2028, he was more than 200 years from when he’d been born (although, Simon admitted to himself, he’d skipped most of those years), and he felt like he was old enough to not have to put up with this anymore. He started to sit up and protest, but Marcus was already in full voice.

“Change is coming, Simon, and it’s coming right fuckin’ now! You lord it over me that you’re the one with the special umbrella, but I’m bigger than you, I’m younger than you, and I’m smarter than you, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be treated like your lackey one more stupid day. Now, are you going to give me the umbrella, or am I going to have to take it from you?”

Simon sat up, but didn’t make eye contact with Marcus yet. Truth is, he was afraid, and he’d always thought of himself as more of a lover than a fighter, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the umbrella had found him for a reason. Marcus was bigger and younger for sure, but he wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought he was. Simon decided that this was a case where distraction and delay would get him more than outright refusal.

“Marcus, you’re right. We need to talk about this, and I haven’t been fair to you. You were uprooted from your home the same way I was, and Lord knows, you’re nobody’s lackey.” He walked over to the window and looked out over the city. There were so many sights that were strange to him, even after all his travels. What his family would say if they could see him now, 140 stories above Tokyo, decades after the rest of them were gone?

“Look, Marcus. It’s a new year, or at least it will be in a short while. Let’s go out, drink some sake, watch the lunar eclipse and some fireworks, and talk about this more tomorrow after our hangovers go away. Whaddya say?”


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