Other stories for this prompt

Goodnight sweetheart, well it's time to go...
Goodnight sweetheart, well it's time to go...

There's a contentment there. I find myself humming that, especially when everything has gone to hell and the day is a loss, and yet there is still the final evening bits to get through.

It's Sha-NA-NA in my head. A sense of contentment settles over me, a sense of belonging - to another time, a younger time - a time before pain. Well. A time before this particular kind of pain, or even the pain of what was coming a few years after that song stopped...

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Sleep and you may dream. Remain and you will surely regret the decisions you make in the night. Intermittent car horns and the smell of grease emanated from the street beneath the apartment. A long slow drag on a cigarette. He had his eye on a man across the street. That man was the source of his pain, of his agony, of his obsession. That man, was his philosophical antithesis. Both he and that man could not exist in the same world. He put out his cigarette, tore off the end and tossed it over the balcony edge. He walked...

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"Good night," the bar manager said, as he tapped a stack of bills on their side to even them out. The waitress dumped another pile of crumpled bills, coins and receipts on his desk.

"Good as any other," she said. The manager paused in his count and looked up from beneath a heavy forehead.

"Something wrong sweetie," he asked.

"No," she said and left the office, heading back to the front. The manager watched her walk away, thinking about what her ass looked like twenty years ago, and smiling to himself. He finished counting the money she'd dumped and dropped...

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Goodnight. That's what I said to Jim, my innocent husband. He loved me so much, we had been married a year. I resembled his mom in appearance, I noticed this the first time I met her. She wasn't much on housework and I loved keeping my little apartment spotless, homely. Jim couldn't get enough of me and overlooked my flirting, drinking, strange absences during our dating years as he was busy saving money for our future.

After I drove off in my red sports car after waving to Jim, I met up with Dan. If you saw him you'd wonder...

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The cracks of light from the dusty attic had faded. Even through the lid of this chest, it seemed obvious that evening had fallen. Why had the young master not returned? Why was I so thirsty?

I'd not wanted to play the young master's silly game of Hide and Seek. He'd insisted. Just after his gentry friends had laughed at him, when they'd spotted the way he looked distractedly at me cleaning the grate. His high and mighty friends had laughed and joked the way the Butcher's apprentices did at market day.

The young master seemed upset and shot...

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"Goodnight..." My baby sleeps in my arms, her little hands balled up into tiny fists.
"Goodnight..." My baby lays in bed with her pigtails loose and her pajama's too small.
"Goodnight..." My baby dances and twirls herself to her room; dancing on air and blinded by love.
"Goodnight..." My baby waves from the car as they drive away, her white dress shining like the tears in my eyes.
"Goodnight..." My baby rocks her baby to sleep and I smile.
"Goodnight..." My baby kisses my hand and I drift away.

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Goodnight said the face jutting out of the wall. She reached up to touch it but it moulded itself back into the brick. The swirls on the carpet spun into ethereal balls of light and their laughter tinkled like wind chimes. Only there was no wind in this solemn place where the moon came and went and the stars burned black.
Her hair stuck fast to her sticky, hot brow and she knew that she was lost in this 'other' world. There was no fear just a calm acceptance as the life she had barely begun to live drained out...

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I said that to him five hours ago and I have still yet to join him.
Damned insomnia.
Sucking the life from my brain, the energy from my soul and making me want to twist the necks of birds as they mock me with their dawn chorus.
How did I get here? Consorting with the godless hours. Joyless hours offering endless opportunities to think. To think about the past, the grey future and the uncertainty of existence.
I click the remote onto channels spewing out drab stories or, in some cases, none at all.
'Closed' it says on the...

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Goodnight...read the glowing sign above my bedroom door.

I shoveled myself further under the covers and sat with my flashlight, curled in my tiny igloo, my fortress of solitude, catching up on the secret stash of comics that I had hidden in the back of my closet.

I'd read sometimes until the flashlight flickered, in need of more juice from the cheap batteries I'd buy at the store with leftover lunch money. I'd fall asleep squinting my eyes so tight that I couldn't make out shapes on a page, and I'd wake up early to wash the sweaty inkstains from...

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We stood on the sidewalk, our sodas sweating onto our hands. My fingers were so slick I thought any second now the plastic cup would slip through them and smash into the floor. I adjusted my grip, and you smiled slyly.

"Do you want to come in?" You asked, gesturing at your house, behind us. One lone light lit the front yard. I looked at it for a second, judging whether it would be a stupid idea. Results: Extremely stupid.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Everyone knows the best adventure stories begin with "Why not?" and the worst romances start with...

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About the prompt

Originally displayed on:
May 11, 2011


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