You Again...

This is the first part of a story Clio is working on. She was wondering on a long car ride what it would be like to reignite an old friendship after a long time. It is inspired by a number of things.

1. A story of the way Clio's friend's parents reunited

2. Her friendship with some special friends who will remain anonymous (you know who you are)

3. A secret between her... and herself ;)

As usual, Clio thanks you for reading this, and she hopes you will continue on visiting The Three Muses. She is hoping to have a thanksgiving story up by tomorrow.

It had been years since she’d seen him. She couldn’t believe that they met in that way. How could she have gotten so lucky as to run into him that particular afternoon?

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She was merely walking past a Starbucks when she glanced through the window. Busy running errands, she barely paused to see who was inside the coffeehouse on that chilly fall afternoon. However, on that day, someone inside caught her eye. Halting abruptly in her steps, she turned to enter the shop.

A young man had his back turned against her, apparently waiting for his drink. She studied him briefly. He was lean, yet slightly muscular, and his dark hair was slightly messy, probably from the frosty wind blowing outside.

“Liam? Is that you?” She inquired of the young man who looked so liked a friend of hers in high school.

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Liam spun around, completely taken aback. Who was she who knew his name? He didn’t recognize her, not straight away at least. Upon examination, he identified the young woman who stood in front of him.

“Claire? Wow, it’s been ages.”

She smiled at him, instantly igniting their old friendship.

Snow White, kind of...

Richard - on his high horse as always - rode slowly and sexily down his usual route. He was getting bored of all his twenty-five wives in the palace, and he would have liked a bit of variety in his mundane life.

Just then, he stumbled across what appeared to be a funeral amidst a thicket of bushes. He would have snorted and continued on his way, if not for the fact that he had caught a glimpse of a particularly beautiful woman lying in the open casket.

He descended from his horse and walked over to the (gasp) vision of pure beauty lying there. Upon closer inspection, he realised there were seven midgets obscuring the view.

Proceeding to shove two of the oddly short men out of his way, he knelt beside the casket and caressed her silky black cropped curls. She looked so beautiful, being dead and all, and he couldn't help himself.

He felt a sudden stirring in his gut, and a strong necrophiliac urge overtook him. He bent down to press his lips upon hers, and the seven dwarves collectively inhaled sharply.

However, the moment his lips brushed hers, she sat up, coughing, and a slice of an apple fell from her mouth. He immediately stood up and looked her up and down for a few seconds.

Her eyes fluttered upon, and her gaze settled upon the tall, equally dark-haired prince. "Oh, darling, have you come to rescue me from the curse?"

He frowned, and the beautiful lady looked quite taken aback.

Drawing his sword, he proceeded to plunge it into her stomach. As she fell to the ground, lifeless, he caught her in his arms, and smiled dashingly.

"I like her better this way."

---

I'm sorry, that was so random.
For the life of me, I've never understood why any prince would kiss a dead woman.
Just saying...

The Lady in Red

He knew it was his last chance. Should he mess up this case, he would be dishonorably discharged from his unit. The detective strove to hear what the only pair in the bar was speaking about. While he was getting up and inching slowly toward the counter, his suspect caught his eye. The suspect shifted in his seat, blocking the investigators only opening into the couple's conversation. Rising, the detective stumbled to the bartender, pretending to be drunk.

“Another round for me,” he slurred, keeping his guise.

“Are you sure that's a good idea, sir?” The bartender asked, raising his eyebrow, “this is your fifth round.”

Still slurring his speech, the detective replied, “of course!” Nodding furiously, he stumbled blindly back to his seat.

While waiting for his drink, the detective looked around, observing his surroundings. It was winter. A cold, brisk wind blew in the street, making them unusually quiet for the average late night in 1928 Chicago. The bar was dark and empty. There were only three people in it, the detective, his suspect, and his beautiful companion. The detective glanced over at his suspect. The man was dressed well, his clothes pressed neatly and his maroon hat covering his eyes suspiciously. His companion was a gorgeous lady dressed in a crimson satin dress. Her silky, golden hair was curled fashionably. Although she appeared pretentious, snobbish and superficial, he tried really hard not to gape at her striking figure. Flicking his eyes back to the man, the detective noticed that he seemed rather nervous.

He noticed that the couple had been conversing in hushed tones for close to an hour now, occasionally stealing glances at the supposedly drunk detective. While waiting for the right moment, the detective reviewed his case in his head for the hundredth time. He was an undercover cop trying to discover the identity of the top criminal in Chicago. If he got lucky, he would even be able to arrest him. His suspect was said to be an expert in disguise. Studying the curious figure with the scarlet lady, he could understand why.

Suddenly, movement broke his train of thought. To his horror, the detective realized he had forgotten to continue his drunken stupor during his contemplation. The suspect whipped his hand out of his pocket and shot the detective in the side with a small 9mm pistol. Crumpling to the ground, the detective grabbed his side, desperately trying to slow the bleeding. An intense, stabbing pain shot through his body.

Several mysterious occurrences happened next. The lady in red, rather than running and screaming, rose to her full height and smirked at his collapsing figure. Glancing at her, the bartender, a young man in top form, turned away quickly and began minding an already very clean row of beer mugs. He appeared to be simply terrified of the scarlet lady.

“Hello, detective.” Signaling to her companion, she enunciated in a beautiful British accent. “Bring the poor man a seat.”

An epiphany struck the detective. The answer had been staring him in the face the entire time, literally. Whispering hoarsely, he forced the realization from his lips.

“You're it! You're the criminal I've been hunting for.” Her impeccable Queen's English made his New Jersey accent he had had since he was a little boy suddenly sounded harsh and grating to their ears.

“Now why would you say that, my dear detective?” Picking him up and dropping on a hard wooden stool, the detective’s original suspect placed his gun against the detective's back hostage style.

“I can’t let you go now that you know my little secret, can I?” The detective met her cold blue stare with an equally dark one.

“How did you do it? How did you fool so many people into believing these crimes were committed by someone else?”

“Elementary, my dear detective. I merely planted enough clues as to point it to someone else. As the police force has pointed out, I am a master of disguise. Besides, no one ever suspects a woman, especially a beautiful one. Now that I’ve answered all your questions, we’re done here.” She gestured to her bodyguard, as the detective guessed her companion was.

“Finish him off.”

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This is a story Clio wrote for school. She was to look at a picture (she would tell you what that picture was if she remembered) and write a story based on it. She wanted to try her hand at a mystery/detective story, and she dearly hopes you like it.

The 7th Day

EDIT: Note(foreword, whatever, blah, random things i have to say)

Yeah this is one of my longer stories and I am rather thankful that I managed to blast it out in one day(and a few hours) but I suppose it needs work and I should've done more with it before stashing it here in the euphoric sense of achievement I felt after completing it.

After reading it through I realised I really need to work on my punctuation. Its absolutely atrocious. Or maybe I just need a brilliant editor who will take the time to punctuate stuff for me properly. Right now I'm a little too scared of messing it up, (though actually the coherency is quite affected as of this moment) to do anything about the punctuation but I'll give it a fix sometime in the near future. I hope it didn't spoil the story for you!

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It had been one week since I got the news. I still hadn't gotten used to him being gone, and I wouldn't for a long while. Every now and then I think of him, and it hurts. Just like that, our perfect little world fell to pieces, and there was nothing I could do about it. We had finally been able to afford a place of our own after years of slogging away deep into the night. It was supposed to be the start, the first step on the road to our dreams and our happily ever after.

Life is cruel sometimes.

It was an accident as they like to call it. A horrific one, 11 cars piled up in the middle of the freeway. 17 injured, 3 dead. I never read the newspaper reports, and I couldn't step out of the house for three days, but I still remember the face of the police officer at the door, the icy fear that gripped my heart.

"Mrs Parker?" He said. "Sophie Parker?" He shifted hesitantly as I nodded, "I'm really sorry.."

The way my world plunged into darkness.

But I had to move on. Or at least try to. I brought Ally out to our backyard to play that day, she was only four and I hadn't and wouldn't and just couldn't tell her. Daddy was far away, I said. He wouldn't be coming back so soon, yes he still loves you very much. She said she understood and gave me a brilliant smile, and it took all my strength not to tear up as I returned the smile.

September 10th, it was to be her fourth, and her first without him. The first of many, but she wouldn't miss him that day I told myself. So I had decked her out in her favourite red dress and set her out with a new shiny set of sand tools in the sandpit in the backyard. The autumn wind bit at our heels that day but she didn't mind; and so I didn't either.

It was a beautiful day, the leaves were golden, and the slight haziness to the air just served to make the soon approaching sunset more picturesque. The wind picked up again, and the dead leaves stirred themselves once more, and soared through the air in a kaleidoscope of colour.

Just then a cloud went over the sun and something went wrong. The leaves fell to the floor, dead again, but the breeze kept blowing, no longer nourishing. No, it was a winter wind, powerful and vengeful seeking to claim and to take; the beauty of the autumn day spoiled and corrupted. A lone church bell tolled in the distance and I felt an icy panic grow within me. Ally didn't notice. The bell sounded again, bringing back memories of a different time. Memories, from a place so far past it seemed like another life.

Chinese bells, funeral bells.

The thought shook me, death was the last thing I wanted on my mind. But yet it was all around, the cold, the finality of it all. Suddenly it struck me of how alone we were. The yard seemed impossibly large, and the fences around it unnecessarily high. Like prison walls they loomed. And yet the yard grew ever more expansive. There was not a human to be heard. The bell tolled again, and once again my mind flew back to the time before and I heard the voice of my long dead grandmother speaking.

"The Chinese say that on the seventh day, the soul of the dead will return....to make a final visit"

Visions, pictures flashed through my mind.

"If you spread talcum powder on the floor and see footprint traces the next day, then you will know your loved one has found their way home......"

Ah Girl tonight you must sleep with us and don't touch the food on the altar. Tomorrow also don't touch. Don't go out of the room until we tell you to okay?

Wah wah come look, Ah Gong came back last night, and he took the oranges we left him...

A strange mood had settled about the place, and I struggled to deal with the inexplicable flood of pictures from my past. Suddenly I noticed the yard had grown deathly still. The loudest sound to be heard was my own breathing, followed by Ally's erratic scraping of the sand.

Just then I heard a distinct crunch behind me. Not loud but distinct, like a footstep. On the edge, I spun around but I found nothing there. Trying to calm myself down, I sat myself next to Ally, and took in the structure she was building. A tower, or lighthouse. I couldn't tell.

Crunch

I jerked myself to my feet and looked around in futility, taking in the sparse grass, and high wooden slats. The safety of the house a million miles away.

Crunch

"Ally."

She looked up.

"Go inside, its time for your dinner soon." I said, trying to keep my voice even, watching her as she slowly gathered up her toys.

"Just leave them dear, I'll get them for you."

She turned for a second and looked at me with her big brown eyes. Is everything alright Mommy? I gave her a reassuring smile, and her mind at ease, she ran the distance up the yard, slamming the screen door behind her as she scrambled up to her room.

Now it was just me. Me and the yard. I didn't know what I was looking for or what made me stay, but then the wind stopped just as the cloud moved away from the sun, pouring light down on me. It was then that he stepped behind me and drew me close, holding me against him with his hands around my waist.

"John.."

"Shh..." he whispered into my ear, "don't try to turn around."

I sighed as he stood there and breathed deeply, once again taking in his scent.

"They didn't lie to me did they John."

"No no," he said, sadness pervading his voice. "They didn't."

I cried; in his arms and he held me tighter, comforting me slowly with his soft words as I slowly made my way back from the hurt, the raw hurt.

"Sophie, I'm going to have to go now." He paused. "I'm sorry I couldn't take care of you like I said I would, I hope you'll forgive me."

I tried to speak but I choked as the words for the moment eluded me, emotion forming an insurmountable lump in my throat.

"Give Ally my love will you, I'll miss her."

I began to cry again, and he hugged me like he always used to once more, pressing something to my hand before letting go.

As soon as he released me I turned around but I was alone again, and he was gone forever. In my right hand was a white rose, whiter than the snow, pristine and perfect.

And I do believe, that the heart does go on.

No One

She walked into the room and, to her pleasant surprise, she saw a rich chocolate cake placed invitingly on the centre of the table. Eyes shining, she took in everyone standing around the table.

"Ricia! You're just in time! We went ahead and bought the cake without discussing it with you, hope you don't mind."

Mind? Why would she mind? She hadn't expected anyone to remember her birthday - it would be expected given their track record - and any cake was better than none.

She rushed excitedly to the table, pulling out an empty chair and the birthday song began.

"Happy birthday to you,"

I can't believe they remembered for once! This is the happiest day of my life!

"Happy birthday to you!"

Perhaps I still mean something to them.

"Happy birthday to Linus..."

Wait, what?

"Happy birthday to youuuuuuu!"

Linus, the new boy, beamed proudly, and pausing to make a wish under his breath, he blew the candles out quickly and cleanly. It was over as quickly as it had begun, and it took her mind a while to wrap itself around the matter.

Linus grabbed the knife and cut firmly into the cake, and she choked back a sob of disappointment. Reaching for the door, she thought up an excuse to leave the room.

Oh, hey, guys, just going to take a piss.

As she stepped out, she realized it wasn't necessary at all.

No one noticed she left.