This is an ongoing story that is continued each day using the Daily Spur’s word prompt. Todays word is: Other. The previously written parts run below the new addition so that, in the end, it will be a completed short story. Backwards.

I hope you find it entertaining!

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Part Four

Things hadn’t always been uneasy between Bob and Draco. Years ago, the two of them—along with Anastasia who was now watching from the stage—were thick as thieves. They lived in a land that was like no other. The valley was lush and green, surrounded by fragrant purple and blue mountains that sheltered the town from the icy ocean winds.

The three grew up together, there in the valley, and they loved each other in the most pure and transcendent way possible. It was childlike and platonic. Until the summer of ‘85, that is, the year that changed everything.

Part Three

Bob was enjoying the attention, but he was having difficulty seeing the faces of his admirers since he’d lost his glasses in the confusion. It wasn’t until he heard the room gasp that he noticed a striking figure at the back of the room. There he was. His nemesis. Bob recognized him immediately, dressed in his old familiar garb, looking like old Willie from the Chocolate Factory had just stepped down from the stage and was now basking in the audience’s cheers for an encore performance.

“I believe these are yours,” he said with a straight face, holding Bob’s glasses in the air.

Part Two

The crowd applauded, not just for the woman but for Bob as well. He had gone unrecognized until the wine debacle caused every eye in the room to gaze upon him. He had removed his dampened jacket, revealing a colorful football jersey. His face displayed the signs of a life well lived, and his balding head was covered with a handsome newsboy cap. His firm and muscular body, the one that had taken the team to the championship years ago, revealed his true identity… the town’s former star quarterback.

Part One

She made a grand entrance, as usual, causing quite the disturbance. Bob’s glasses fogged up, causing him to bump shoulders with the maître d’ as he rose to greet her. His wine glass soared through the air, spinning end over end as the crimson liquid showered down onto the patrons below. Finally, it hit the checkered tile floor in front of her, shattering into a million pieces.

Unfazed, she strutted her way across the debris and onto the stage…

“Good evening,” she said as the microphone reached her lips, “this one’s for you Bob.”

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On a more personal note

I’m not real happy with tonight’s illustration. I started late, spent way too much time on it, and then everything went south from there. This left me with little time to add to the story, which is why it’s not progressing much!

I’m really enjoying the writing exercise and my imagination is opening up, so I’m thinking that I’ll prefer to write first, and then add illustrations if I have time. I know none of this probably matters to you, dear reader, but I needed to spill it. It’s very hard to write without adding my own thoughts on the page—it leaves me feeling so alone!

Anyway, the image is my three musketeers, done in illustrator and then added to an image in Photoshop where the painting process took place. They’re a bit smeared now (after all of my hard work!) and—like I said—it’s not what I was hoping for. But, let’s not sweat the small stuff.

That’s about all for tonight.

Until later,

___Peace & Love___