The Hunting Widow!

The Hunting Widow

The first full burst of Fall’s wind shift , resurrects a mood change in Clyde Johnson. He reckons it’s time to let his beard fully grow in, and scope out the wooded paths he plans to traverse. His wife Sylvia has become accustomed to her husband’s long unannounced excursions throughout the years. His regular tardiness to dinner and early retreats to bed, true tell signs hunting season has arrived.

Guns are pulled out cleaned and polished. Clyde handles them with the dexterity, and skillfulness that Sylvia uses with her best china! His gun will be a constant companion for many hours during his wild hunting escapades. His disappearing acts are expected and tolerated this time of year. Gun sights are set, and triggers are checked. Targets drug out for target practice. Shots are fired piercing the silent air, startling nature into a frenzy.

Sylvia stands back quietly observing giving Clyde his own space. She knows disturbing him will do no good. His mindset on a strict one way track , “Huntin mode!” When first married she became a tad jealous of his yearly ritual, but she soon grew to understand. Clyde took time off for himself only during hunting season. Bear and deer were the two exclusive things which mattered to him for weeks on end. Leaving the house well before dawn, and punctually returning at nightfall.

When he had the good fortune to lug one home to her, you never saw a more proud or happier sight. Clyde was bringing home food for the table, as if this was all which validated him as a man. Bolstering his confidence up, so he could tell his buddies full play by play details of his astounding hunt. The huge boyish grin graced upon his face said it all!

A quick change from dried bloody clothes and he’s off. His final jaunt spinning out to the Elks Sportsman club, to pound down a few beers, and exchange hunting stories. Later pleasantly shit faced strolls back home, grabs a bite of dinner, a shower, and finally falls away exhausted into a heap onto their bed.

Sylvia has found her true calling, she‘s been dubbed a hunting widow for the all the support time she’s put in. She shakes her head in amusement at the beginning of yet another hunting season. Sylvia has many things to keep her mind and time occupied. She knows Clyde will be a happier man doing what he loves to do best. A happy man gives lots of good lovin, and the lovins will be delivered on a grand scale in just a couple weeks!

©Jo A. True-Burkholder 2008

The fields all around my home will become the killing fields directly in the morning. The shots will start as early as 4:00 AM. I always cringe at the thought of those beautiful creatures being killed. My area is crawling with hunters. I just pray that if they are shot they are killed, and not running around wounded. Once my dogs came upon a buck, his leg was hanging literally by the skin. It was such a sad sight, my husband had to put the sweet thing down. I do like venison, when prepared well to remove the gamey taste. Also the meat has much less fat than beef.

The above photo is an eight point which I had my husband mount. Look at his cute big black nose, and his big perky ears. He's a beautiful big buck, my favorite of the ones he's shot. Hubby will be out tomorrow trying to get his deer! Wishing all the hunters Happy Hunting!

The Lucky Three

Fanned Out by Charles Dana Gibson

Charlie Puckett stared at the entrance of an empty Dover Downs racetrack. He limped slowly over to the wooden sidewalk bench, and plopped himself down. He was dressed in his best Sunday black stripped sack suit, which had grown two sizes too small. The jacket’s bottom buttons left undone, allowing his beer gut to bulge out over his tight stripped trousers. A black round derby top hat, his newest prize possession, completed his whole attire.

Charlie was the last of “The Lucky Three.” The three elderly gents had made a pact as young lads. and ran like wild havoc throughout all their adult lives. Until a run of mortal bad luck, eventually caught up with the trio two years ago.

His ole friend Jimmy Johnson was tracked down by the bookie mafia, and beat to death for a measly ten thousand dollar debt. And just recently his buddy Alfred Dobbs suffered a fatal heart attack after winning one hundred thousand dollars at the racetrack. Alfred had placed a one hundred dollar bet on a horse named Eye candy. He squandered the one hundred dollars off his wife, when she left him. The unexpected excitement of the huge incredible win had done his already frail ticker in.

Charlie was feeling mighty lonely without his two close, rowdy sidekicks. His mind was a turning and a hankering, until a powerful revelation came. Why Mrs. Dobbs was still a fine lookin woman, plus she was now a rich one at that. He realized today would be a great day for a condolence visit, every good woman needs a ironclad shoulder to cry on.

Charlie stood up prying down his sack coat, and pulling up his trousers, but neither one would budge. Charlie walked proudly poised in his manly gait, taking a deep breath to muster up all his persuasive orneriness.

If he made haste, he’d be able to catch Mrs. Dobbs directly after church services. He tugged his derby top hat down closer to his head making his ears stick out even further. Charlie smiled thinking, perchance he could convince Mrs. Dobbs into spotting him a hundred bucks. Charlie was eager to place a wager on Eye candy, scheduled to run in the 5th tomorrow afternoon. The fortune hunter force of The Lucky Three, was still very much alive within him.

©Jo A. True-Burkholder 2008

Word Catalyst Prompt

My Blogfriend Jo Janoski has posted a wonderful sequel to my story above here "The Lucky Three Continues,"

Fatal Liaison ~ A Love Story ~ Softly Erotic!

Fatal Liaison

The Oyster House Restaurant is where it all began. Jessica Thomas sat at a secluded table enjoying her lunch. She could feel a lingering stare fall upon her. She lifted her eyes and met his gaze across three rows of red checkered round tables. He had attractive dark looks with astounding deep green eyes. They smiled mutually. She suddenly felt flushed looking away, to finish her oyster soup. She jotted down finishing lines for a product campaign . Gathered work notes, flung her purse over her shoulder, and moved toward the cashier to pay the check.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were all by your lonesome,” said a deep voice from behind. “Hi! My name is Ryan Hastings,” Flashing an enticing, pearly smile, eagerly extending his hand.

“Jessica Thomas,” She turned to face him with a smirk and shook his hand. She glanced down discretely noticing he had no wedding band.. From that day forward their rendezvous took place, first for lunch, continuing until they became almost inseparable.

“I promise I’ll get a divorce!,” Ryan relented one evening.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” said Jessica tearfully. “How could you do this to me?”

“We’ve been separated for a year and a half, and Leah won’t sign the papers.” I need more time to convince her.” “ I promise I’ll get her to sign the papers tonight.” Don’t worry babe, I’ll straighten this whole ordeal out.”

Ryan reached over to put his arm around her. Jessica feeling devastated stepped back abruptly, her mascara failing leaving black streaks streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t touch me, or come back to me until you’re free!” “I refuse to be branded as the other woman.!” she defiantly declared.

“I can’t bear any distance to come between us! pleaded Ryan. Walking steadily toward her, sweeping her swiftly in his arms.

“I love you so much Jess!” He confessed. Glancing down into her huge brown eyes, stroking her long dark brown hair. Unable to resist the urge to press his lips hard against hers., he French kissed her wildly and deeply never wanting to let her go.

She struggled with her dignity, and felt her whole body weaken as his hot breath brushed her right ear, slowly kissing her neck. Her breath quickened, feeling his hand caress her breast, and feeling his desire growing hard against her inner thigh. She arched her body pressing even closer to him.

“Dam him for letting me love him!” Dam him for being irresistible!” Dam him for everything!” Jessica thought.

Both surrendering in the heat of their passion, devouring every inch of each other.

Now he had Jess quietly calmed down, Ryan focused on another important issue. He slipped out of the 2nd floor apartment to head over to the eastside of town. The rain came down in sheets, overflowing the roadway like a river. The weather stations were warning of flash flooding occurring in the area. Ryan hurdled across huge puddles forming on the sidewalks, and dodged soaking wet into the drivers seat. He felt more determined then ever to get Leah’s signature on the divorce papers. He could still smell Jess’s perfume on his shirt collar.

He reached the East End Bridge, and the rain fell heavier yet. He could hardly see through the rain washing over his windshield, but cautiously proceeded to enter the bridge. First accelerating the gas pedal, and realizing he needed to slow down. He jammed on the breaks which caused his Cadillac to spin out of control and hydroplane onto the opposite lane. A gray haired man driving a tow truck frantically beeped his horn, but it was all too late. Ryan was killed instantly in the tremendous impact.

A month later around 2 :00 A.M. Jess pulled her car into the parking lot across from the Oyster House. She couldn’t sleep wanting to feel closer to Ryan, so she drove over to their favorite meeting place. Another storm had hit the city, and the rain fell like the flood of tears flowing from her eyes.

Leah Hastings had claimed Ryan even in death, purchasing a black granite companion headstone. Yet the irony still remained, Jess knew no one could ever claim or take away from her, the unborn child conceived out of their genuine love.

©Jo A. True-Burkholder 2008

Been extremely busy as of late! I had this story brewing for my blogfriend Jo for her prompt on the Word Catalyst! I see she has another one up! Have a great weekend folks!