The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #18

 Christmas tree

The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #18

The Twelve Days of Christmas – Day Five

One Picture

One Element

One Emotion

200 Words

A mother pushing her sons on a cart, with a Christmas tree

Five Gold Rings

An irresistible urge to disco

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4 thoughts on “The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #18

  1. Part 5

    “Are you alright, dear?”
    Brad woke up to a cup of tea.
    “Sure.”
    He sat up and took the tea. The old woman offered a plateful of biscuits.
    “Are there any jewellers in the area?”
    “Jewellers? Why yes, in the town centre. I took my pearl necklace there some months ago. Lovely man.”
    Feeling better for the tea, Brad said goodbye and once outside instantly tripped over a trolley filled with twin boys and a christmas tree. Other than the swearing from the mother, he heard a distant alarm. The jewellers. Reaching a pedestrianised square, he saw the place, with its alarm screaming above the door. The owner was there, doing the giddy-down and looking bemused and exhausted.
    “Detective Shaw.” Brad showed his badge. “What happened?”
    “I was robbed by a guy who zapped me with a strange raygun. I now have an irresistible urge to disco.”
    The man changed to a bunny slope.
    “He took five rings, right?”
    “How did you know? Five gold rings. He could’ve taken it all.”
    Retro hustle.
    Which way did he go?”
    “That way.”
    Brad had to stop this before it went too far. He knocked the man out and ran after his prey.

  2. “Ten people dead. One on a train, nine in our village,” said the commissioner. “Constables Boswell, Warwick, I hereby place you on administrative leave for your failure to apprehend the suspect.”

    Darby gritted his teeth and stared out the window. An old woman was pushing a bushel cart, small boys rode on it laughing and smiling. She had killed a child last time. Darby couldn’t stop seeing the child’s bloody corpse.

    Warwick was trying to talk his way out of it as Darby stepped up to the desk growling.

    “Today is the fifth day. Five golden rings. Five people, at once, if we don’t stop her,” Darby said. “You can’t do this.”

    “I can and I will.”

    Warwick sneered at Darby.

    “Oh fire up a pipe or something. Have a drink. It’s what you do best isn’t it? People die. People like your partner, and you turn to vices. Isn’t that right?”

    Darby bounced on his feet in anger.

    “Have an irresistible urge to disco do you?”

    The commissioner scrambled over the desk but wasn’t able to stop Darby from punching Warwick hard in the face.

    “Goddamn it Darby. You are done. Get out! Warwick, you too… bloody horse’s ass.”

  3. ‘Your wife?’ The nurse pointed to a photograph of a young mother and a Christmas tree.

    ‘No, my daughter Kathie with her twins. Her daughter Kate was born six months later.’

    ‘Kay, Kathie, Kate?’

    ‘I have five generations of Katherines,’ the old man boasted. ‘Look at this picture: Kay, surrounded by Kathie and Kate, and my great-granddaughter Katie with baby, Katherine.’

    ‘What are they wearing?’

    The old man smiled. ‘It was the church fête. Families volunteered to produce a diorama. We did “Five Gold Rings”.’

    ‘Okay, but where are the rings?’

    ‘They’re wearing white-gold choker-chains – my gifts to the Katherines that year.’

    The nurse peered closer. ‘A choker’s a ring?’

    ‘For a pheasant it is,’ the old man said. ‘A “gold ring” is a ring-necked pheasant. That’s why my Katherines are wearing golden-orange t-shirts and red and blue head-scarves – five ring-necked pheasants.’ He laughed. ‘Katie was itching to dance; she had an irresistible urge to disco the night away.’ He sighed happily. ‘A lovely memory. I even had Kay up dancing that night.’ His voice softened. ‘That was the last carefree time we had.’

    The nurse knew Kay had died some time later that year. She straightened the photo and crept out of the room.

  4. Episode 5

    FX: Train sounds at moderate speed continuing

    Narrator – “Jack Brandy lay motionless for what seemed an eternity staring at the dead bodies of Romeo and Juliet. In a literal sense, love was dead. He began to wonder if love had ever been alive in his life. “

    Jack – “Well ……. there was Ann. We married while we were still in high school. I thought that was forever, but I had that insane compulsion for disco clubs, and late nights, the parties, and then I ran off with that woman I met at one of the clubs. Her name was … Jeanette. We got married, and lived in that apartment over the club, but that’s when I started drinking, and she kept nagging me to get a job. She filed for divorce within the year.

    Narrator ; “Jack stood to his feet, and stumbled his way over to the door and shut it.

    FX ; Car door closing; train sounds muffled a bit

    Jack – “Then I married that woman running the a Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I got sober, got that job with the city. She stayed with me for about seven years … until that day I fell off the wagon. She had taken the twins Christmas shopping, bought the tree, and all that crap, and came home to me drunk as a skunk. I never dried up. So she took the boys and left.

    Narrator – “walking over by the two corpses, Jack sat on a bloodied crate.”

    Jack – “Then there was jasmine. We were so drunk that one night; married and divorced in 24 hours. And finally Brenda. I can’t even remember what happened there.

    Narrator – “Holding up his left hand, Jack envisioned the five gold rings that echoed the disaster of his love life.”

    Jack – (under his breath, Jack began to sing) “Where is the love you said you’d give to me …?”

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