Forever Hold your Peace?

Is it just me or did the new year start off with a bit of evil over at Indies Unlimited? I don’t know, maybe you should be the judge. In my eyes the prompts are leading to some crazy places.

Forever Hold your Peace?

Forever Hold your Peace

Photo by K.S. Brooks

Blaine slipped out the back of the wedding hall. He couldn’t believe Tiffany was marrying that no-good cowboy. Roy McCoy had slithered his way into Tiffany’s life while Blaine was in Iraq. It wasn’t right. He had emailed her every day and Skyped whenever he could. Why hadn’t that been enough? He wasn’t really gone that long. She should have waited for him.

He gazed upon the unprotected refreshments. His grip tightened around the bottle of ipecac. “Speak now or forever hold your peace,” wafted out from the hall. Blaine took a deep breath…

Blaine released a long breath as he poured the ipecac fluid into the punch bowl. Then he gave it a quick stir as he looked around for any witnesses. “Shouldn’t have invited me,” he said. With another glance toward the sanctuary he strolled out of the reception hall toward the bathrooms.

He planned it well, he had waited in the bathroom long enough to allow the reception hall to fill and guests could drink up some of the doctored punch. He returned to the reception hall in time for the first explosion. Tiffany’s little brother Kenny expelled his lunch all over his mother’s shoes. Pure liquid red punch mixed with all manner of things in the boys belly shot everywhere.

This wasn’t the first. Once the floodgates opened the chain reaction was under way. Blaine lifted his phone at the perfect moment to catch a double spew between Roy and Tiffany, across their faces, and even a little into their mouths. It didn’t end there.

People who hadn’t even tasted the punch let go. The smell of sick and bile in the reception hall threatened his own tenacity but he fought the bile down.

Blaine put the final part of his plan into motion, a picture of Tiffany at her worst. He called her name and raised his camera to catch the perfect shot, though he misjudged the distance. She turned and released one more time. The liquid missile covered him and his camera.


Remember to head over to Indies Unlimited to cast your vote. Of course you realize you are contractually obligated to vote for me (I have copies of the signed document in triplicate with samples of your DNA).

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