Red Writing Hood Prompt – The Terminal

I’d pretty much paved my way to hell in one, swift motion when I refused to move my foot and allowed a three year old with curly locks of hair, fall right over and land squarely on his ass. I tried not to smile, but I knew by the look the kids’ parents gave me; the effort was in vain. What could I do? I just didn’t want to be here.

A friend made me promise over a bottle of bad tequila that, in addition to never drinking bad tequila again, I would attend her wedding. I had no issue with the first part of the pinky swear, but getting on a jet and heading across the country to sit with my East Coast toes in West Coast sand while she burned incense and asked me to ‘join in their, like, total commitment to each other [duuuude]‘ was a little out of my comfort zone. And really, after a bottle of tequila exactly what isn’t in your comfort zone?

I was so digging my personal pity party that I never noticed the seat next to me nor when it became occupied. It wasn’t until I left out a particularly profane word that I gave my neighbors a second thought. As I looked to my right, I was caught in the tractor beam of the most exquisite pair of blue eyes I had ever seen. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to. I simply stared into his eyes and envisioned what I could do with the body attached to those eyes in the few minutes I had prior to boarding. My mind reeled thinking of where I could drag him off to and tear his clothes off, licking and nipping every square inch of him and finally impaling myself on him in what could only be called hard core wanton whoring.

I was in love.

“So I take it you’re not a fan of flying?” His Scottish accent shot through me, bringing to mind every sultry, smut-filled novel I ever read entitled “Highlander this’ or ‘Highlander that’. Instantly I was in the highlands wearing his plaid and not much else while he was wielding his claymore, defending my virtue which he was certain to relieve me of as soon as the battle ended. Glorious, naked thoughts floated through my mind.

The loudspeaker announcing my flight’s boarding shook me out of fantasy-land and I began to rise out of my chair and sling my carryon over my shoulder.

“Let me, Lass, maybe I’ll have the good fortune of sitting next to you on the flight.”

At that point, I’d murder my seatmate to make sure that he did.

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5 responses to “Red Writing Hood Prompt – The Terminal

  1. LOVE! This was particularly great: “is Scottish accent shot through me, bringing to mind every sultry, smut-filled novel I ever read entitled “Highlander this’ or ‘Highlander that’.”

    Does everyone have a few secret sultry smit-filled treasures under their bed??!?!

    -Barbara @ de rebus
    www(dot)barbaragildea(dot)com

  2. Awesome. I can so relate. I was on this teeny tiny puddle jumper flight out of dallas once and the incredibly sexy pilot convinced a person across the aisle from me to switch so he could talk to me. Swoon!

  3. I laughed and sighed…This was a masterpiece. From start to finish. And I don’t generally read what I playfully call trash’n’smut nor do I think these sorts of things about not-so-random strangers. (sniff, I think I just discovered I’m a frigid prude. blarg!)

    But this story…brilliant! I’d even help her murder her seatmate. Very, very well done!

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