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message 1: by Gigi (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) Madame Lavander
(A Whore's Tale)

Word Count: 298

Call me, Madame or Madame Lavander. My real name? I almost forgot but I was once called Petronilla when I was but an innocent gal loved and sometimes hated by my family, friends, foes and acquaintances. When was it that I last heard that name? I refused to count the years.

One thing I had learned, was to never look back to memories of the once had been, especially if that had been, will never be relived again. For what was lost was already lost and to hope for the past will be a one way ticket to death with no refund. But sometimes, one could not help but do.

It was eleven o'clock in the evening and the street where I worked for most of my career - after all whoring is defined as the oldest profession there is - is buzzing with life. Red and yellow lights attracting yuppies for a sinful dip after office hours and in each corner, groups of ladies in their Cindy Lauper garb hover and poised - to be noticed and be chosen by those who craved carnal gratification the easiest way possible - a drive-thru-fast-sex.. OPEN 24 HOURS.

I felt left out somehow. For at least a decade I hold this spot, like an unwritten claim to a land, this corner - the best there is in this long narrow skirt - belongs to me. Sometimes I heard buzzes from the girls on who would inherit when I retired. Them who hopes nothing better but to lay claim on the best corner of the street, are both laughable and pitiful at the same time. I tend to be the latter with an occasional smirk, but then I remembered, how it was and how it is.

Written by; OxyMoronicMe GLemz
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poe...


message 2: by Gigi (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) The Master (Ritual)

A week had gone by and the sleeping demon lays restless, eager to get out of its cage. Hunger evident on his rambling and a thirst for blood compels him yet once more; as convincing as a malefic force in a tidal wave of gigantic proportion.

"It's time my friend, we need to feed and find our prey."

That little voice whispering and keeps nudging him slowly takes shape behind the mirror above the sink. A person glowing, with a pair of dark angel's wings, smiling at him with eyes ablaze with menace and acrimonious sweetness - a deadly concoction sipping in his spirit, filling it with a desire as stringent as a turbulent storm brewing on the horizon ahead.

"It's time!"

Exclaiming indifference, he finally agree and mentally shakes the hand of the monster; embracing the challenge, knowing that it’s what he really wants or rather, what he really needs to quench the craving within him.

And with that, he and the demon become one and the same. No more reflection, no more conversation, no more confusion – fueled by the same advertence and malevolent intentions, his thoughts flee, sure of its direction. It went to the building next to his own and the vivid image of the reception desk and its occupant flashed on his conscious mind, Hilda...

©OxyMoronicMe GLemz
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poe...


message 3: by Gigi (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) FOUR SEASONS OF TRAGEDY
Word Count: 318

-----Four short stories dating back from 900 A.D.

-----A historical thriller, uncover the mystery from pre-colonial era to present.

Glimpse...

What if Miamai, the goddess of stars, prophecy and fate who had the power to see the past, present and future of all things, that one being who had the power to reshape everything on earth, was a Babaylan from Asia and took residence in a land that was Kingdom of Taytay?

Her power, so strong that the other Gods fear her and cast a powerful spell upon her to trap her inside a human body and suppress her abilities...

What if she tricked them and was trapped, not in a body of a common mortal, but inside an Immortal - Constantine - A man wanting to die but couldn't?

Upon striking a deal with the Goddess Miamai, he let himself be the vessel in exchange for mortality.

But what if something went wrong?
His body may have been cast to die a normal human lifespan, but Constantine's soul would be repeatedly reborn every century until he met with an special kind of being...

God almighty shunned him to immortality, and so, only those who inherited the spirit of the Gods could either kill Constantine or grant him absolution.
A nephilim - the chosen one.

Centuries would pass them by, each soul waiting era after era for everything to come full circle...

Every hundred years, they where given the chance at redemption. But each time, they had failed.

Until now...

The chosen

The immortal

And the Godess

Their mortal vessels finally would meet with one another, entertwined fate, sharing the same space.

Ella

Constantine

Maria Clara

The last three of their kinds.
Read how fate plays foul and the bloody battle that came to pass in the struggle to fight against the inevitable.

Win or Loose?

All stakes are already in place.

It won't be long now..

©OxyMoronicMe GLemz


message 4: by Coralie, Wordy Writer (new)

Coralie (corkybookworm) | 1249 comments Mod
Just to clarify, Gigi, are you OxyMoronicMe?


message 5: by Gigi (last edited Oct 03, 2017 05:41AM) (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) Yes, I am. OxyMoronicMe is a username I have been using in a poetry site.. (GL is initial for Gigi Lee, my FB ID and emz is a petname use by my close friends coz my name have a Maria in it... in short the letter M).

OxyMoronicMe is also a name attached to my twitter, wordpress, scriggler accounts and few other sites.


message 6: by Gigi (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) THREAT OR TREAT
©OxyMoronicMe GLemz

Word Count : 562

A/N

This is a part of a series of an ongoing flashfiction booklet I am currently working on intended for Halloween.

i

She looked at the mirror and all she could see
was an image of woman that was not her own.
Those pair of green eyes with flecks of brown,
hooded by lashes so thick
that it hids the fury of the soul within.
Only she knows, only she feels, only she sees,
the truth swimming under the sea of despair.
And for what? For whom?
It's only a matter of time now,
before everything floats back into the surface.
By then, it would be too late to be saved.
A smirk formed in her cherry painted lips before mumbling,

"Stupid!"

ii

The morning after that fateful halloween
some ten years ago have all been forgotten,
buried as a cold case and unsolved.
Funny how this town could easily set aside
the memory of that horrific day,
of Sarah and her headless body
floating in crimson waters
on the big fountain at the park.
How could they be smiling
as they dressed up the children
to play trick or treat, knocking on doors,
expecting candies in turn?
Should I play threat and trick with them
and make them remember?
"Hello Chloe, are you alone? Come in...
I prepared treats specially for you."
Oh, yes...
They will remember!

iii

At first they thought that it's a prop,
remnant of kids trash from last nights' prank.
Until the cleaning crew arrived and touched the headless 'doll',
and then they knew that it was not and it all began...
Screams of terror rung from a mother's lungs,
There's no doubt in her heart who could it be.
Even without the blond curls, who else but her Chloe?
That Tinkerbelle costume and pink lacy shoes
and that little hand wearing a ring with red shiny heart...
taunting as the arm attached drips diluted blood
when it dangles lifeless on the edge of the fountain in the park...

"It's a ghost! The ghost of Sarah!"
someone said.

And the following silence proves...
that now, now they remember!

iv

The fools!
A decade had past, yet it seems they never learn;
commiting the same mistake as they did with Sarah -
asking the wrong questions,
suspecting the wrong person,
Assuming and jumping to conclusions.

...who done it? ...where hid it? Fools!

Will Chloe suffer the same injustice?
Tears of blood filled with rage runs down her cheeks, as she...
picked up the frames imprisoning
the smiling image of two little blond girls.
For they don't belong in that memorial beside the fountain,
surrounded by melting candles and flowers...

"Who, whose dead body was found defiled,
and headless on the fountain in the park?"

Because she knew for certain that it wasn't Chloe,
nor was it Sarah ten years ago..

v

No one knew of Leah.

She was that child, kept hidden and chained
inside the windowless basement
of the mansion across the lake -
the secret that her family would kill to keep;
the byproduct of an incestuous coupling
of a deviant, abusive father
and of a mad, yet dangerously beautiful daughter.

"Child of the devil!" her mother used to call her,
as she slap her senseless, for the sin of existence.
Oftentimes, she stroke her unruly curls,
and kept whispering vile words in her ears.

Leah grew up knowing nothing but the rants
filled with hatred, uttered by a mind gone insane.
And so she believes...

She's a child of the Devil!

TBC


message 7: by Gigi (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) IF THE SHOE FITS, WEAR A TROUSER
Word Count: 673
A/N My earlier works
©OxyMoronicMe GLemz
.........

Her POV

Boring (sigh)

My name is Mary Jomae Aragon-Zaragoza and I feel so bored.

Who wouldn't be?The on-going charity event that I am attending proves no different from hundreds or more like it...

Don't get me wrong, i am more than happy to donate part of my savings to help the less fortunate. It's just that I prefer to send it anonymously.

In fact, I would have done that if it weren't for my grandfather's insistence.

My grandfather Don Anselmo Aragon, whom I fondly call Lolo, is the reclusive and eccentric CEO of ALC Group of Companies which includes ALC Publications, ALC Talent Managements and Consulting Agency, ALC Records, ALC Broadcasting Company, and ALC Entertainment Network where I work as the Executive Vice-President for Entertainment.

I couldn't remember a time that my grandfather attended such events.

. "Waste of time, let's just send them a fat check," he used to say.

So I was taken aback when he calls me three nights ago to say that we would attend a benefit hosted by the Lardizabals'

Flashback 72 hours ago...

"Maria, get ready and clear your appointments on the 27th. We're going to a benefit party."

I groaned inwardly. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why he insists on referring to mer as Maria.

It's my mom's name for God sake!

"Lo, the 27th is Mom and Dad's anniversary. We're supposed to have a celebration dinner at home."

"This is important. We cannot afford missing the event, the Lardizabal's hosting this one. Just ask Magdalena to arrange for an 8:00 P.M. dinner good for 14 people, we have a few family friends to invite. Better do it in the penthouse place. The benefit party is at the Ragency."

Her youngest sibling Michael or Mic owns the penthouse of the Ragency Hotels.

"The Lardizabals' of the Lardizabal Group of Companies?"

Of course I knew of the Lardizabals, who wouldn't? They owned a chain of pharmacy, a big Hospital, Derm Clinics where I am a patron and God knows what else. As far as I know, they are as rich as my family though not as famous or infamous as the case maybe.

The Lardizabals stay low keyed. You wouldn't read their names aside from the occasional mentions in the business section of every National Broadsheets.

"Yes, please don't ask, you'll know soon enough. Go and have your driver pick that box for you. Wear that on the event."

Great! He even picked out a dress for me. A white high necked, long sleeved, tight fitting and flowing skirt gown, not to mention satiny and lacy.

The dress itself is elegant, but I can't help but notice that it looks a lot like one of those classically designed wedding dresses minus the veil.

And now...

My feet hurt like hell. Thanks to the blasted shoes (half an inch short of my size) that go with the dress which, to my dismay, Lolo Ansel insisted that i wear.

It was fine for a couple of minutes but after two waltzes and going to-and-fro socializing, I can't stand to stand at all.

I got a glass of champagne from a waiter passing by and sat in a corner.

Now where is my Lolo?

I glance around and finally I spotted him at the far side talking to a man in white tuxedo.

The man was facing away from me while conversing with Lolo Ansel so I couldn't tell if i know him or not. The man is over six feet and lean muscled, with a butt to die for!

Wow!

My eyes feasted on his back profile and proceeded to ogle him from head to toe...

... and what the!?

Then I choked on my champagne.

Here I am wallowing in my discomfort because of ill-fitting shoes and there he is standing in all confidence wearing trousers three inches too short with his green socks visible.

Is it just me or isn't he impressive?

I suddenly felt hot and resist an urge to scratch south.


message 8: by Gigi (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) I KNOW HIM
word count: 370

I held myself on check.

What am I doing lusting after a man more than 10 meters away from me?

It would serve me right if the man turned and proves to have shrek look-a-like face.

Urgh!

After years of celibacy, I didn't think my hormones would go haywire on me.

It's so long ago that I barely recognize the feeling anymore.

I'm still human after all!

I shake my head to refrain from continuing the trail of thoughts I am having.

I check the time and decided to go ahead and leave for the penthouse. Lolo Ansel could follow when he is good and ready.

My heart almost fall on the carpeted floor when I turned and come face to face with the host of the event,

"Pardon me Maria... Did I startle you? I am..."

She smiles and cut-off his sentence.. "Don Antonio Lardizabal.... How please I am to finally meet you sir. Thank you for inviting us, it's a successful event. "

"We'll see if it's successful or not. There are checks we're still waiting to receive."

Don Antonio guided her towards the exit. And in-between occasional greetings to people they passed by, the old Lardizabal man bombarded her with 20 questions.

Weird...

He indulges him nonetheless.

Here we go

Is it true that she's involved with the son of the owner of Harrison Malls?

No comment

How is her new job as newly promoted Executive Vice President for Entertainment of ALC Networks?

So far so good

Etc..etc.. Like

If the Chicken Feet in Anita's Kitchen really taste that good?

Waaahhh! Thats creepy. Myr fave comfort food in my fave resto?

I got the feeling that something is definitely up!

According to Don Antonio, He is a very close friend of his grandfather.

Suspicious!

In all my 29 years, my Lolo Ansel never mentioned it.

As we continue to walk towards the exit, I noticed that my grandfather and the Butt Man are also heading the same direction. And as the distance between us closes, he becomes more and more familiar. By the time they come face to face with us, I suddenly remembered who he is.

The man with the killer ass.

I definitely know him.


message 9: by Coralie, Wordy Writer (new)

Coralie (corkybookworm) | 1249 comments Mod
Reminder, please monitor your language. Foul language is not allowed in this group. You need to edit it out of your stories or not post the stories with them in it. Thanks!


message 10: by Gigi (new)

Gigi (OxyMoronicMeGLemz) Coralie wrote: "Reminder, please monitor your language. Foul language is not allowed in this group. You need to edit it out of your stories or not post the stories with them in it. Thanks!"

I re read, and I cant find any, I already removed curse words. please help me pinpoint anything I missed. so sorry. im just a little bit lost right now. I didn't intentionally. thanks.


message 11: by Coralie, Wordy Writer (last edited Oct 11, 2017 03:37PM) (new)

Coralie (corkybookworm) | 1249 comments Mod
The one I noticed while skimming is in your most recent post: I Know Him. Second to last line, "The man with the killer butt."

Also just noticed, "My feet hurt like h***" in If The Shoe Fits


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