AW Blog Chain July: Independence and Slavery


This was supposed to be part of Absolute Write’s July Blog Chain, which had the prompt, Independence and Slavery.

However, I messed it up, kind of forgot about it and then still wanted to at least show there was something there, even it was written in about two hours.

Following my post is links to the other entries for July…


Stan & His Wife:

Stan could not believe it.

There they were, arguing out in public like they usually would do after a few drinks, middle of the night on another rainy Saturday, one where the streetlights made the rain puddles in the parking lot seem like small lakes made of liquid silver.

Stan stared again at the image of his wife walking away from him, slightly unsteady, moving in the direction of the cab she had called from the ladies room while Stan fumed outside. Stan let loose a large ball of spit into one of the silver pools, making ripples.

“Fuck the bitch then, I don’t need any of this horseshit!”

Stan spat again, turned, walked back into the bar with his mind on a nice strong Long Island ice tea and the blonde who had used the jukebox earlier.


Fuzzy, bright, white light.

Stan opened his eyes but quickly shut them again as the pain he felt in his head tripled the moment he did so. Stan moaned and clutched the blanket to his eyes, breathing slowly under the heat of the covers. It was then that Stan heard someone groan next to him and braving the light, he saw that he was laying next to the jukebox blonde, who did not seem too happy about the bright sunshine pouring into Stan’s bedroom either.

Stan and his wife’s bedroom.

In his house.

He leaped from the bed and started doing what could only be described as a cross between the chicken dance and the reaction of a victim attacked by red ants. He woke the jukebox blonde, told her she had to go but he would be sure to call, all of this while dressing himself and pacing in quick little circles.

He remembered his wife calling him while he was still at the bar last night, telling Stan that she had taken the cab to her mother’s house as she needed time to think. Apparently Stan, in some drunken state of being, thought this might make for a golden opportunity to cheat on his wife.


While pushing Jukebox out of the bedroom, he happened to glance outside and saw a cab parked below outside the house. His wife was now home and Stan was stuck on the second floor with a half awake bar whore, in the bedroom he and his wide shared.


Stan grabbed Jukebox by the shoulders and gave her a shove into the bathroom and slamming the door, which made something fall in the bathroom as there was a large bang. Telling the bathroom to ‘shhh’ as he went by, Stan ran downstairs to greet his wife.

As she entered, Stan tried his best to look unhappy and pitiful, which was not really all that hard for Stan at all.

“How are you hon? I am so sorry about last night, I was fucked up and you know how I get when we drink now don’t you?”

Stan’s wife just stood there staring at Stan.

“Come on baby, it’s not like we ain’t never fought before…can’t change the past, we can only change the future so let’s let it go.”

“You don’t…” Said Stan’s wife, in a voice that sounded like she had to force it from her body.

“You don’t what honey?” Stan said, looking a bit worried and more then a little confused.

“You don’t recall me coming here last night at three AM from my mom’s when I found you in our bedroom with some slutty little bitch?”

Stan stood there, transfixed and stuck in place, his mouth hanging open, while his wife went back out to the garage and the car, most likely to call her mother, cry and regroup. Stan took this opportunity to run like a bullet back to the upstairs bathroom where Jukebox was hopefully still inside.

When he went to open the door to the bathroom he found that it would only open about three or four inches and the reason that it only opened three or four inches was the fresh corpse of Jukebox laying on the other side. Stan stifled a scream and started to bite at his fist. What was he going to do? He had a dead blonde in the upstairs bathroom and an angry wife who knew he had an affair with the now deceased Jukebox, who seemed to have very little to say on these matters.

It was then that Stan’s wife came in, poking Stan in the back with her long nails and making him jump ten feet in the air.

“Whats wrong with the bathroom door Stanley?” She said as she pushed past Stan, only to get a good look at a blonde who had seen better days. That’s when the screaming started and didn’t stop, when Stan got madder then he had ever been in his life and promptly hit his wife six times in the head with a heavy brass lamp, killing her and placing her not ten feet from where another corpse lay on the tile of the bathroom floor.

Stanley cried.

The road was bumpy and in bad need of repair, but that probably was helped along by the fact that Stan was riding on four rims and a tire so far gone it was a testament to it’s maker how well it held on.

Stan had disposed of the bodies after a quick search online about how to do it right and then threw the two women into the trunk of the old family car, the one Stan’s wife had hoped they could replace this year.

The trail of police cars that followed him were plentiful and Stan knew that something had tripped him up, someone heard his former wife screaming, someone smelled the stench from his trunk at the last rest stop…something. Stan kept thinking back to that perfect moment of freedom when he wife walked away from him the other night at the bar, how carefree and awakened he felt, just like now in a scarier way racing down the freeway, making sparks in the night.

Stan pushed harder on the gas peddle, listening as the sound of the rims got worse. Up ahead, trees lined a curve in the road with no guardrail, a target Stan made full use of, spinning the car away from jail and police and into something that was unknown…for now.


Participants and posts:
orion_mk3 – (link to this month’s post)
knotanes – (link to this month’s post)
meowzbark – (link to this month’s post)
Ralph Pines – (link to this month’s post)
randi.lee – (link to this month’s post)
writingismypassion – (link to this month’s post)
pyrosama – (link to this month’s post)
bmadsen – (link to this month’s post)
Poppy – (link to this month’s post)
areteus – (link to this month’s post)
Sweetwheat – (link to this month’s post)
Tex_Maam – (link to this month’s post)
MelodySRV – (link to this month’s post)
CatherineHall – (link to this month’s post)
dclary – (link to this month’s post)
ThorHuman – (link to this month’s post)
Tomspy77 – (link to this month’s post)


2 Responses to AW Blog Chain July: Independence and Slavery

  1. Wow, how life can change for your characters. I don’t want to be in one of your stories! Looks like everyone had a bad fate. lol

    • Lol…

      The moral of the story is never drink a very strong Long Island ice tea near blondes and jukeboxes!

      Thanks for reading, glad you had a reaction to it and I promise not to put you in any future tales.

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