Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.

This month the prompts are supplied by ME and can be found right  here. This week's prompts are:

1. blankets 
2. striding 
3. hocus-pocus 
4. sluggishly 
5. comparative 
6. notebook 

and this: 

"they're ruining everything!" 

Here is my story:



Lost and Found  Part Three   Chapter One                                     



After slamming the car door, Dr Bruce Jones could be heard striding down the hallway even through the mountain of blankets Andrea had pulled over her head. The pounding head of her hangover increased exponentially with Bruce yanking off the blankets and letting the sunshine in by also yanking open the curtains. 


“Go away,” Andrea whined, trying to pull the blankets back over her head. Yet Bruce was merciless in throwing the blankets to the floor and pulling Andrea to her feet.  Tugging her into the bathroom he shoved her into the shower cubicle and turned on the water. She yelped and shrieked, but he held the door closed until she dissolved into tears. Only then did he allow her to dry and dress, with instructions to meet him in the kitchen and NOT crawl back into bed. 


Pulling on sweatpants, a comfy old shirt and fluffy slippers, Andrea sluggishly made her way to the kitchen, where Bruce was waiting with something fizzy in a glass which he handed to her saying, “drink it all right now, it will help.” She did so and was surprised to find the headache receding a bit in just a few minutes. At least the pounding had almost stopped. 


“Do you have any idea what is going on up at The Retreat?” he asked. “How am I supposed to know?” said Andrea. “I haven’t left the house in a month. Not since that Detective Inspector saw me and I thought maybe he recognised me.” “Has it really been a month?” said Bruce. “Well anyway, that Detective and his partner have been spending quite a bit of time up there AND there’s talk in town that Bernice has been talking to them, that she might be asked to come to The Retreat for more interviews.”


“Who?” said Andrea. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. Who is Bernice and why do they want to talk to her?”  Bruce mentally kicked himself, forgetting that Andrea didn’t know the whole story was going to lead to more trouble if he wasn’t careful. He’d almost let the cat out of the bag mentioning to copper coloured granite a few weeks ago, but she hadn’t seemed to notice, being quite drunk at the time. She’d gone through an awful lot of whisky since he’d cut off her supply of pills.


“She’s just somebody vaguely related to old Mrs Saunders and the Detectives were talking to her up on the mountain a couple of months ago about something or other. That younger Detective is always writing stuff in that notebook she carries everywhere. And get this! The Saunders couple seem to have worked some kind of hocus-pocus and Stephanie is talking!” 


“What?” said Andrea. “TALKING!” shouted Bruce as Andrea backed away to the comparative quiet and dimness of the living room.  “Talking and remembering,” said Bruce. “I don’t know how much she remembers, after all these years and all the pills we’ve kept her on, I would think her brain is mush. They’re ruining everything I’ve worked towards, everything I’ve planned for.” 
Andrea went white at the look in his eyes.