kisahawklin: 15_minute_ficlets stopwatch (15_minute_ficlets)
kisahawklin ([personal profile] kisahawklin) wrote in [community profile] 15_minute_ficlets2009-10-18 02:44 pm

Prompt #13

If you wish to do this as a spontaneous exercise, don't look at the word until you're ready to write (I recommend having Write or Die open in another tab). If you're going to mull over the word and write later, peek away.

Once you've completed your ficlet, please either comment here, or post a link to it, if you're posting on your own journal. Feel free to reference the community or number of the prompt in your outside posts, but if you use the actual word, please put it under a cut to avoid spoiling others, should they want to write spontaneously.

Today's word is: possession
ilthit: (Default)

Baby Steps

[personal profile] ilthit 2009-10-19 07:20 am (UTC)(link)
Rebecca weighs the item in her hand. It feels so good. She holds it up to her face. It smells like all the things she's always wanted, posh apartments and expensive wine, silk and velvet and fabrics she doesn't even know the names for, tasteful grey, darkness twinkling with lights, the hum of an airplane and the taste of Belgian chocolate.

She loses herself in it, breathes it in. The jewel's sharp edges dig into her palm.

The woman is bound to come back looking for it, and there's no way Rebecca could sell this for even a third of its value. She doesn't even know who to sell it to. She's not "connected". And the police always, always look at the staff first. Who'd look after her kids if she was arrested?

It's no use. She wraps the jewel in a piece of paper napkin and stuffs it in the basket of her cleaning trolley. She looks about the room, takes stock of what remains to be done and reaches for the mop.

She finishes the room slowly, her eyes still hazy with dreams. When she's done, she lets her gaze linger for a moment on the view. The city spreads below her, mercifully cloaked in mist, lights beginning to twinkle in the thousands of shops and apartments and offices.

She draws the curtains closed. It's not for her.

She switches off the light and pushes the trolley, rattling, into the hallway. She can hear laughter. Around the corner a couple is retiring into one of the rooms. She peeks and sees his hand on her waist, her yellow hair bundled up into a fine swirl.

She knocks on the next door and opens it when there is no reply. She takes the jewel bundled in the paper napkin and walks through the empty room to the window. She opens it and chucks the bundle out.

They are seven stories above the ground. She probably wouldn't be able to hit the river from here, but she imagines the fine silverwork bent, perhaps shattered. She doesn't check, but turns back to her work.

It's as close as she's come yet to burning this hotel down.

Well, there's still time.
ilthit: (Default)

Re: Baby Steps

[personal profile] ilthit 2009-10-19 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Whoo, thanks! :) This was fun, I really gotta start doing these more regularly.