The Iron Writer Challenge #191

The Iron Writer Challenge #191

2017 Spring Equinox Challenge #12

500 Words, 5 Days, 4 Elements

The Authors:

Maureen Larter, Geoff Gore, Paul White

The Elements:

A lemon tree

A vampire

A songwriter


Maureen Larter, Geoff Gore, Paul White


Geoff Gore

“Ok, this is going to hurt a little”

She leaned forward and I was pleasantly distracted by the sensation of her soft breast brushing my shoulder. The feeling was short lived. An explosion of pain ripped through my jaw like a white hot needle.

“Yeah, that’s it.” 

I fought back the urge to scream and gag at the same time.

“You’re going to need an extraction.”   

“Is it going to be expensive?”

“You’ve got insurance, right?”

“That bad?”

She nodded.

I hate dentists, even hot ones like Dr Phoebe. I don’t know any other medical professional who can as efficiently perform an extraction from your body and you’re wallet at the same time.

“Relax, I know my teeth.” She said smiling.

She was right. She had great teeth. Almost blindingly white, but what would you expect from a dentist?  Still there was something uncomfortable about that smile. So white, yet something seemed out of proportion. She stopped smiling.

“What’s wrong?”

“Have you been eating garlic?”

I shrugged.

“Nevermind”, she lay me back down, “I’ll give you something for the pain.” She dipped a latex gloved finger into a tub of blue gel and rubbed it inside my gums. In an instant my whole jaw went numb.

“Whath ith thath shuff?” I said, spraying fine flecks of spittle across my bib.

“An old remedy my Mom used on me when I was young.  Just relax and let it do its work. Here.” She flicked on a screen above my head playing music videos as a distraction. My favourite singer songwriter, Sting. How ironic. I recognised the video, though I could hardly hear the words.

“And all that I can see, is just another lemon tree…” 

Great, now my hearing was going numb too from that gel. I was definitely going somewhere else next time.

If there was a next time, I heard a voice say.

Was that my voice?

“Wha?” I struggled to say.

“There, all done. Would you like to take a look?” She handed me a mirror and I looked inside my slack jaw. I had to admit, she did stunning work.

“Wha wash dat medishin ou gav me?”      

“Cocaine tooth drops.”

“Cocaine toof dwopths?  But you shaid your mom gav dem to you when you wash little?”

“That’s right.”

“Bup, dey shtopped making Cocaine toof dwopths in 1885. That would make you…”

“Do I look a hundred and forty years old to you?” She laughed.

That she certainly didn’t. I relaxed putting the mirror down on the armrest next to me. That damn gel was starting to make it too hard to say anything anyway.

“I need to give you a little gas for the last bit. Trust me, you won’t feel a thing.”

She leaned over me and reached for the mouthpiece. As she placed it firmly over my mouth my eye caught the refection in the mirror next to me of the gas hose moving through the air all on its own. I tried to scream…

Toothache Drops

Paul White

“Johnny” shouted Marjory, her voice carrying the length of the garden. “Johnny, stop running about. Go sit with your Grandfather”.

Sluggishly, Johnny dawdled along the garden path towards the small arbour where his Grandfather sat. As he walked he ran a stick along the fencing so it made a clackety-clack sound.

Most adults found the noise annoying, but Grandfather Eddie clapped his hands together, jumped from his seat and said “Go back a bit Johnny, go back and do that again”.

Johnny liked Grandfather Eddie, he was funny. He did lots of stupid things and told jokes that his mother called ‘only nearly funny’. That was when he wasn’t grumpy.

Not that Grandfather Eddie was ever grumpy for long, he had his special sweets, his toothache drops. If he felt bad he ate two or three of those and he was smiling and laughing again in no time.

Johnny often wondered why Grandfather Eddie did not go and see the dentist more if his teeth hurt. Surely a dentist could make the pain stop, or he could take Grandfathers tooth away altogether?

Grandfather Eddie wrote songs. Not old songs like he was old and Nanna was old, but songs you hear on the radio. He knew all stars and artists. Grandfather had been on television and had trophies for writing on display.

Sometimes the famous people came to eat dinner at Grandfathers house, or to have a barbecue. Some of them were coming today. Which is why Johnny had to be on his best behaviour. Although, when you heard and saw all the things these people did, Johnny wondered why he had to behave when no one else did?

Adults can be strange at times. Most times.

Johnny sat opposite Grandfather Eddie and, looking directly at his face, watched as he tapped away on the key board. His Mother said “Don’t disturb you grandfather when his typing”. So Johnny waited patiently.

“That’s it” he said with a big grin spreading across his face as he shut the laptop. “So Johnny, that’s the Vampire Dunkin Monkeys next big hit in the bag. That’s the Grunge-punk awards won for this year and it’s all down to you and your clackety-clacking”.

“I could have done more Clacking, but the Lemon tree is in the way” said Johnny.

“You have done quite enough young man, I shall reward you handsomely when the record become a big hit”.

“Can I have a fast car, an orange one, with silver wheels?”

Grandfather Eddie laughed. “When you are old enough you can have all the cars you want”.

“Eddie” it was Nanas voice. “They are arriving”.

“Right, Johnny. Let’s go to work, let’s get that fast Orange car for you, shall we?”

“Go to work? I thought they were your friends?”

“My friends are Alexander Hamilton, Ulysses S. Grant, Benjamin Franklin, William McKinley and Grover Cleveland. You would do well to make their acquaintance too, young man.”

Grandfather Eddie popped two toothache drops into his mouth as they walked towards the house. When they met their guests Grandfather Eddie was chatting and buzzing like a teenager.

Under the Lemon Tree

Maureen Larter
Darryl sat up in bed and cringed. He placed his hand up to his jaw and moaned. It seemed like forever since he’d suffered with a toothache. In fact he couldn’t remember when – it seemed like centuries ago. He grinned to himself, then gasped when a renewed shaft of pain sizzled along his jaw line. He remembered the days of yore, when adverts used to extol the beauty of toothache drops laced with drugs! Of course, he thought with a grimace, he’d never had a problem in those days. He pushed himself up and out of his cocoon of warmth. Maybe he just needed a feed. Tonight he was meeting the luscious Jennifer – a songwriter par excellence, with a figure to die for and a face as sweet as the songs she wrote. The ache in his mouth diminished as he thought of the delights she would offer. With a bounce in his step he hurried to dress. He looked dashing and handsome when he walked out of the castle door. The meeting place eluded him for a second, then he remembered. He almost rubbed his hands together in anticipation. By the time he was under the lemon tree and awaiting the arrival of Jennifer, he had forgotten his toothache. It wasn’t long before she appeared. He watched her furtively dash across the orchard’s dewy grass, her night gown diaphanous in the moonlight, giving him a view of her wonderful body. He smiled. She was gorgeous, and available for the night. He opened his arms and she sighed as she snuggled into his chest, her blond tresses tickling his nose as her perfume assaulted his senses. He bent his head and a pain shot through his head. He couldn’t stop the moan of pain. She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, mistaking the stifled cry as the sound of passion. “Oh Darryl, my love,” she said as her smile promised her surrender. “Take me! I’m yours!” He bent his head, and his fangs buried into her neck. As she swooned, his toothache disappeared.

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