Well, we made it to another Friday. Did you miss me? I hope you all took the time to read and comment on the Anthology which went live last Thursday. However, it is now time for some new prompts. So consider these my gifts to you, open them and let the fun begin.

Prompt 286 – Creative
Tag – First Line
“Is that really the gift you’re giving him?”

Prompt 287 – Creative
Tag – Holiday Special
The malls are a mess, the people are surly, and your shopping list is beginning to look like a noose. However, everything is changed by the actions of one person and now your living your own holiday special. What happened and who is the one that changed your holiday.

Anyway, two weeks ago I gave out two prompts and people seemed to jump all over the one about Wonderland. Who knew so many people would want to follow that sexy little rabbit? There were three really excellent entries and I wish I could spot light them all. However, Jaybird85 decided to use this as his first chapter of an ongoing story. (Alright, I'm biased. I like it when someone takes a prompt and runs with it.)

Here is a sample of his first chapter.

My whole life had become a total train wreck in a matter of two weeks. To look at me most would think I had it together and my fabricated confidence had become a second nature defense mechanism. I was a muscular 5'9 earned from a lifetime working construction with my father and younger brother. Wavy blonde hair a shade of gold salons only dreamed about and what I was told to be "hypnotic" green eyes.

 

However, this book's cover was about the only thing it had going. After 6 months together I agreed to follow my boyfriend Chuck up to New York City to follow his dream of becoming a big deal fashion photographer. I'm from a small Texas town that isn't even on most maps and all the lights of NYC was going to be a huge culture shock, but I closed my eyes and took the leap of faith. He was nice enough to let me totally unpack in our ridiculously expensive studio apartment before dumping me for some euro-trash magazine editor. What someone who wears skintight orange pants could possibly have to say about fashion I'll never know.

 

So there I was homeless in New York with nothing to my name but the contents of an oversized duffel bag, $80 in my pocket, and my heart ripped out as I watched my ex take off in a shiny BMW, without so much as a glance in my direction. I didn't have any way to get home, especially after the explosive argument about my suddenly leaving, to be with a man no less, that had pretty much severed ties with my folks, and I didn't have the first clue what to do. I felt like my body was running on autopilot, like everything that told my body to feel had been scooped out of me. My lungs knew to breathe, my eyes could see but nothing completely registered in my brain like playing a movie just for something to look at, not really paying attention.

 

I numbly picked up my bag and started walking, hoping in the back of my mind that I would put something together that at least sounded like a good plan. I gradually started to come back into my senses, and slung my bag over my shoulders like a backpack because the sidewalks of New York is not the place to carry a large bag at your side. The bag was getting heavy and I felt like I must have walked the whole length of the city twice when I realized it was getting dark;not that that meant much in New York but my small town mentality was convinced that I had to figure out something and soon before I wound up sleeping behind a dumpster.

 

That's when the reality of the whole situation hit me, I was totally alone in the biggest city in New York. I could feel the panic take over control from the numb shock that had kept me upright all day. I was alone, viciously tossed out like so much trash, and I had no fucking idea what the hell I was gonna do. I must have looked half crazed to the socialite party girls crowding the street as I totally sank into panicked fear. Holding my stomach as I stumbled into an alleyway. I couldn't breathe, my shoulders throbbing from carrying the large bag making me finally drop it to the ground beside me. I leaned against one of the buildings framing the alley, the cool brick felt like heaven against my back but the anxiety in my gut wasn't going to be ignored.
I leaned forward hugging my stomach clenching my eyes praying to God and anybody who'd listen hoping this rising swell would die down, but it was a losing battle. Knives ripped through my stomach and I wretched next to a pile of trash bags that smelled like sweat and bad Chinese food, which didn't help my situation. Throwing up bile due to the lack of food in my stomach (great and now I felt hungry despite the disgusting situation) I couldn't hold anything back any longer. Every emotion smashed the numb wall I had built cutting it down like soft butter. The last time I cried that hard I was nine years old at my grandfather's funeral and fighting it only made it worse.

 

I had finally gotten through the worst of it, getting my breath back under control when I felt a hand on my back and I jumped looking up to see a gorgeous man ; lean, olive skin and brown eyes I could swim in dressed in a tailored light gray suit. I stared at him dumbly for a second before I realized he had said something "What?" I asked and then realized I must have looked like absolute shit after blubbering all over this filthy alley. I reached up to wipe my eyes just to see that my palms were about as black as my jeans "Well shit..." I wiped my palms on my legs as I stood up.

 

I felt his hand wrap my bicep helping me up, stronger than he looked. The crease in his brow softened as I got upright and I actually heard his voice for the first time, couldn't place the accent but damn if couldn't listen to it all day. "Well you seem okay, but I think you could use a drink?" I grinned, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands "That's the best thing I've heard since I got here." My laugh was half-hearted but a stiff one was a wonderful shining point to this fuckall of a day.

So what do you think? Curious about what else he might have written? I sure hope so. You can find his story and the other talented authors take on this topic here - http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/38048-prompt-285-creative/#entry444815

And the other prompt also had someone take up the challenge and can be found here - http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/38047-prompt-284-creative/

So there they are, my gifts to you and the gifts your fellow authors have created for your enjoyment. Don't forget to read, write, and review them all. Enjoy your holiday everyone. Stay safe.

- Wayne