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 to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by David M. Gascoigne and can be found here

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. damn 2. campaign 3. missile 4. vital 5. assure 

and/or: 

1. practitioner 2. movement 3. futile 4. eternal 5. interpret

Also including Charlotte's colour of the month, red-orange

Here is my story; a further chapter in Tom's Story:

Dr Bruce Jones fretted and scowled and he paced the room and kicked at furniture. “Damn them all to eternal hell,” he muttered. His long-term campaign to have Stephanie Hammer meekly sign over her ownership of The Scenic Retreat had failed. It had been vital that she remain sedated and dazed, unable to fully remember the past or to interpret her dreams. The price he’d paid for those black-market pills was too high now with the dealer knowing how much he needed them and taking advantage, and with Stephanie spending more and more time at the retreat, away from his care, the grey curtains shadowing her mind were being lifted. He suspected the Saunders couple were not giving her the medications he had sent along. It didn't help that Andrea had been stealing some of those pills for herself!

The developer who desperately wanted that land had demanded to know why it was taking so long and his last phone call had been threatening. Bruce hastened to assure the man that he would come up with a new plan, but the developer was quite furious and his threats to uncover Bruce’s deceptions were alarming. He knew Bruce’s past, his times in prisons, that he most certainly wasn’t the specialist practitioner he claimed to be. He also knew Andrea’s weaknesses and would use those to his own advantage. It seemed he had spies everywhere, making sure Bruce knew “that missing kid” had turned up and was staying at the retreat with the elderly Saunders couple who had recognised him immediately, looking almost exactly like his father now that he had grown up.

The Police were now involved too, though neither the developer nor Bruce could discover what had brought them to Shark Cove. A movement outside had Bruce rushing to the window, was there someone out there? Did the developer have eyes on the clinic too? Another movement drew his eyes to the trees at the edge of the garden, the falling orange-red leaves must have been what caught his eye. He swore at himself, tamping down his rising panic, falling apart now would be futile, there must be some way out of this mess. He couldn’t send Andrea to town again, she was useless to him now, being afraid she might be spotted by the police again and drinking far too much now that Bruce had hidden the pills. He yanked the drapes closed and resumed his pacing, thankful that Andrea was sleeping off another drinking session. Something would have to be done about her.