Getting to Know: What is The Pen?

Getting to Know: What is The Pen?

Showing posts with label B) The Writer Series 7. Show all posts
Showing posts with label B) The Writer Series 7. Show all posts

Monday, November 23, 2020

Babied 2


Round One : Babied

Round Two: Babied 2

 

Waiting patiently for her husband to sit down and join her in the romantic dinner table prepared by him as the Chef for the night, she was refreshing in her mind the love story of Iko and Ika, the book she read yesterday night.

Her husband just came that morning from his symposium, How To Prevent A Divorce. While he was away for three days, she dedicated her time to their grandchildren. She had enjoyed them, but she must admit how she missed her husband, especially at night.

"I am lucky."

She said to herself, proud and happy about her man. She giggled at the thought of how they were with each other when he arrived that morning. It was like the story of the book.

The writer stopped writing, looking at his pen with a question in his eyes.

"What story is she talking about?"

He placed his curiosity, but the pen kept writing.

"One day, I will show him the book or tell him the story."

The wife said to herself.

Not long after that, her husband came out with a big tray to be placed in the middle of the dining table for two, where there has been glasses for champagne, an iced bucket with a bottle of champagne first class, pairs of plates with forks and with a beautiful table napkin of red with a big white heart in the middle. The napkins were part of the gifts she received that day from him with a bunch of roses and her favorite chocolates.

She loved it when he treated her like a child, anxious for gifts of her favorite things. She heartily laughed at herself and the more when the Chef came in with his chef outfit in white, then soiled a little with sauces he must have prepared.

Her eyes got big when he placed the tray on the table.

"Seafoods!"

Those were their favorite seafoods. They were prepared with drops of red sauces on top, besides the other two separated sauces her husband had prepared with them.

Her happiness of the moment could be seen in the brightness of her eyes, as they shared the food while watching each other with a tease on their eyes, mouth and below the table.

The writer stopped writing, remembering his stomach was hungry too. It was already ten o'clock in the evening and he had not eaten anything yet. 

He went to his kitchen and opened the delivery bag of chinese food he had ordered and arrived an hour ago, but his urge to write was stronger than his hungry stomach. The mention of the food in his story reminded him of the chow mein and shrimps waiting for him.

Once full in his stomach, he went back writing. His pen was missing. He searched for it everywhere on his table. Nowhere. It was his last pen with ink. He went back to the kitchen, thinking that maybe he brought the pen with him there.

He laughed out loud at what he saw, where he found the pen.

"There you are!"

He said to the pen. It was inside the chinese food carton box he did not eat, as if it was a pen holder. He was trying to remember if he himself put the pen there when he came to eat. Maybe.

Anyway, he picked it up and went back to writing. He found his characters finished with their dinner too.

With his stomach full after eating the delicious dinner and telling each other how they spent their time away from one another, the husband went to put a slow romantic music on.

His wife followed him to the living room holding the glasses of champagne. She was watching her husband.

She noticed him looking young at his old age, wearing just a pair of light blue shirt and white slacks. His clean, shaved face paired with brown eyes and thick lashes have always been his attraction to her. But nothing of his outside and handsome appearance have been the main reason she fell for this man.

"I am just lucky enough to find this man."

She was saying those words to herself when suddenly her husband turned to her and invited her to dance.

They were in that best mood when the telephone rang. They did not pick it up. Then the answering machine spoke.

"Mom! Dad! Come!"

They stopped and looked at the phone, alarmed by the voice of their daughter.

Her husband ran to pick up the phone.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

The father of her only child with  him answered the phone and later smiled.

She watched as her husband put the phone down. He looked at her, gave a big smile, hugged her tightly and kissed her lips.

"What is it?"

She asked releasing herself from his arms.

"Another boy for you to baby."

Her husband responded shrugging his shoulders, then gleefully lifted her in his arms and danced around with her in the living room.

"It's a boy! It's a grandson! This time it is a boy!"

Her husband was shouting happily as his wish came true. They have a daughter and after her she could not have a child anymore. Their daughter gave them two granddaughters. This third grandchild was her husband's wish for a long time.

After a while, her husband put her down. He looked straight on her eyes holding her face in both hands.

"But whoever came into the family, remember you are my baby and I am  your baby, first and foremost, okay?"

She could not speak a word as she was speechless savouring the meaning of those words. She just nodded with happiness in her eyes and smiles.

Then they gave each other another long kiss.

The writer stopped his story and put his pen on its holder. He rested his back on his chair, looking at the pen. There he remembered the letter he wrote about the "Querida Persona" in his No Hablo Español collections. He learned spanish, just to be able to reach her heart.

He took a deep breath and left his house to take a walk. He did not realize that the pen was intrigued by the book the story has mentioned. That love story of Iko and Ika. The paper started to be filled with ink writings. It said, "Ika of My Heart."



(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)



Thursday, August 27, 2020

Babied


 

The salon is full. The night's atmosphere for the Grand Hotel's guests gives an invitation to dance the night away. Why not? The drinks and food are free to all VIPs like him, sent by his company to attend a Symposium on How to Prevent A Divorce. He is a marriage counselor like the rest of about a hundred people in the room, men and women.

In his 50's, he deceives people, especially women, with his neat look, pleasing and charming personality. He loves to maintain his physical appearance through good habits when it  comes to food and exercises. 

Almost a narcissist before the eyes of his loving wife of the same age, who to his own set of standards for an excellent body for a woman has never met, unfortunately. He laughs to himself at that. But, he loves her. Besides, he will rather stand that, live with it, than to damage his reputation for the sake of his job. What is good that night, she is not with him. Otherwise, she will have to stop him from having his fifth glass of martini. He smiles to himself at the thought of her.

People around him, younger and older than him, have been having fun dancing, drinking and whispering to each other. Some are obviously flirting with each other. He shakes his head and smiles.

"Of course, we are exempted to the rule."

He talks to himself to find an excuse.

Though the night is so inviting, he decides to leave the salon when his thoughts reminds him of his wife. With her taking care of their three grandchildren back home. His faithful wife has been an excellent wife and mother to his four children. She has been taking care of him, not just as a wife, but almost like a mother! He has been so babied by her. 

"I think I have enough, even more than I usually drink."

He wants more, but convincing himself to stop.

"Well, pretty boy, you have to go to bed now or you can be led astray somewhere."

He gives a little laugh at the thought. Then drink the last drop from his glass. He leaves the glass on top of a hallway table leading to the Main Lobby, where he has to cross to the other side to take the elevator to his room.

Passing by the big lobby, there just came a young couple with a baby crying loud while being swung by a mother in her arms. Her singing a lullaby. He gives no importance, but before reaching the front of the elevator, he glimpses the mother preparing herself to feed the baby by lifting her blouse.

The elevator's door is already opened. It is empty. He is alone. He stands there for a moment. His mind shouting something to him.

"Take a look! Take a look!"

He answers himself with a shake of his head.

"Nee, what for?"

At least he is trying to resist. But he turns around walking backward into the elevator while his eyes are purposely searching for that mother. He finds her. The baby is already sucking the mother's breast. Though the mother has a nice wrap on top of her feeding baby, the whiteness and fullness of her breast is exposed. He looks at her. She is lovingly looking at her husband besides her. Both have fixed eyes on each other. 

"What a beautiful, attractive woman she is!"

His eyes reveal to him admiringly.

"Oh! it is too late, man!"

He feels some sort of disappointment. He is already inside the elevator. No chance but to press the elevator's button before he can be tempted to something else.

"Just like that?"

That is his mind asking him.

"Stay in the lobby and watch the mother at least."

His mind keeps tempting.

He shakes his head as if to speed away the evil thoughts out.

"God, send that evil out of me, please!"

He closes his eyes pleading those words. The elevator moves up. He feels relief upon reaching the floor to his room. He is almost running even if his room is just a few steps from the elevators. As soon as he enters his room, he takes off his clothes and straight to the shower. Hot shower. 

The writer stops for a while. Trying to figure out what happens to his character. Smiling about it, The Pen suddenly falls to the floor. It is in the hand with the arm hanging on the chairs armrest. 

"Finish my story!"

The Pen claims. So the writer obeys.

Right after drying himself, he struggles to put on his pajama and drop his body to bed. The drinks in combination with the hot shower seem to knock him out to sleep.

"There it is your ending The Pen!"

The writer drops his pen, looks at the table clock then rubs both eyes. Finishing the fifth beer in hand, lying back to the rolling chair with full backrest, without realizing it, sleep creeps in. 

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Babied 2



@thepen20/bbayonito20