Brenda walks on the wild side..

Oh, yeah.

Brenda leaned her head back as the wind caressed her streaked hair. At last, a convertible, my own convertible. A burgundy convertible. Laughter trailed after her.

Brenda knew she was hot, so totally hot. The women around her were hags compared to her.  The men who passed by gave her that look, confirming her thoughts. They waved and smiled, that kind of smile that said Hey, babe. Walk on the wild side...

She slammed her foot down on the gas, taking her convertible to its highest speed.  Take that, mustangs.

Brenda slowed just enough to hang the turn into the parking lot.  She skid into a space, one near the Atrium where cards slid across the felt and fortunes fell. Money burned in her red Louis Vuitton purse.

In moments, Brenda was through a door that opened for her.

Brenda eased her walker to an awaiting table. "Hey, ladies. You ready to put your money where your mouth is?" With that, she turned up her hearing aid and slapped down the maximum ante of $3.00. 

"Saw your new golf cart, Brenda!  Could see that you cranked it up to 20 mph this time. Speed will kill you every time. That and Alzheimer's." Hester smirked.

Those around her shook their heads and picked up their cards. Brenda laid her red Louis Vuitton purse on her walker. She had left her cane at home, since her last hip surgery.

Arthritis is a bitch.

Click here to see where Brenda gambles

Wednesday Words: Emilia, precious Emlia

Tom Conway, 1905-1967

While James appeared to be non-chalant to the point of being flippant at this sad funeral, his insides churned with the anxiety that consumed him.  No one would have ferreted out the source of his distress except Emilia, precious Emilia.

And she lay in the coffin.  Emilia.  How James had loved her.  She held the essence of beauty even now, cold in death. 

Just days before, when truth had come speeding through her understanding, Emilia had faced him.  “It was you!  You poisoned me over time, with mercury.  Why?  Why?”

James stepped out from shadowed staircase.  

Rachel Roberts 1927-1980

”Simple, my love.  You are the only one who truly understood me.  Others labeled me ‘arrogant’, but you knew, you knew…”  

With a final gasp, Emilia crumbled to the floor. 

What was James' secret?  Why did he poison

Emilia?  What.....

Every Wednesday Delores presents 6 unrelated words and asks participants to create prose, poetry, flash fiction, etc.  No date limit.  These may be posted in her site comments or in your own post (please link back to Delores).  Click on the lonely train tracks in my right sidebar to find the list of participants!