It’s time for Tuesday Tales!
Today we have an excerpt from Songs of Red Currant Wine, Colors of Love #6!
Do bear in mind that these snippets are unedited so please be kind if you find any mistakes.
This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!
Kara huffed. She did that a lot when we spoke. I was the most exasperating person she knew. That was a direct quote from our time before the judge to dissolve our five year marriage. I also drank a little too much, smoked like a chimney, had no drive, and lacked any kind of sexual prowess in the bedroom. I resented the drinking charge. I only took a sip from my grandfather’s hip flask when it was needed. Like now.
“You make it sound as if that’s the only time I call you. I’m not the one who’s so wound up in his own spiraling decent into obscurity he can’t even remember to feed the dog. I have goals other than dying young in some two-bit town in western Michigan. I have dreams! I have talent. I’m going to sell this house and move to New York and be a dancer on Broadway. Just you wait and see!”
Jesus H. Hopscotch. If I weren’t visible to students passing by the Copper Beerse Bees ice rink, which was on school property, I’d be dumping whiskey into my coffee. Or straight down my throat. Kara Allen no longer Cimino had about as much of a chance making it on Broadway as I did being chosen the next winner on that masked singer show. Oh sure, she was blonde and skinny, or perhaps the term was lithe, and had a few dozen tap classes to her credit. She was also forty-five years old, despite her telling everyone that she was on the downside of thirty. Hell, I was proud to announce to anyone who listened that I’d made it to fifty. It had been a shock to be honest. I wasn’t sure too many Broadway producers were looking for forty-five year old beauticians from Michigan to star in their upcoming musical.
“Okay fine, so if you’re not calling for more money, which there isn’t any of since I actually bought food last week, why are you calling me at work?”
“I need more money.”
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Love the premise of this. You have some awesome lines here. I especially like, Jesus H. Hopscotch! Well done.
I love this. In a few spare, well-chosen words, you paint a picture of broken dreams, disillusionment, disgust, and a relationship coming apart at the seams. So beautifully written. With so little I feel I already know them. You are a master.
Great snippet! I LOVED Jesus H. Hopscotch!
OMG, I love this guy. And I love the banter between them. With the little dialogue exchanged I can already tell that I hate her. Great job!
As a former tap dancer and now older woman, I can relate. LOL