It’s been a crazy wild ride for me since May, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’m following dreams I’ve wanted to chase since I was six, so this is really everything I’ve ever wanted. But my blog has certainly suffered while I’ve huffed and puffed after those dreams.
But funny how one little email with someone can cause you to pause and think for a second.
Today I was lucky enough to email with the Mama Kat about something, and her words made me want to start writing to prompts again. I may not have the time or mental energy to do it every week like I used to, what with all the irons I’ve got in the fire, but I swear I’m going to try to be better. That said, thank you, Kat.
If nothing else, maybe it will help me with my stubborn muse who sometimes likes to clam up and I could just kick her ass for that.
~~ This week’s prompt from Mama Kat’s Losin It: Write a blog post inspired by the word: sparks ~~
The day started out innocently enough. Mark and his buddy Jake were at the park to let their golden retrievers—Fred and George, they were litter mates after all—run through the dog park. Usually they had the tiny, albeit slightly overgrown park, to themselves. But that day there was a dark-haired girl in a pair of cut-offs and a blue bikini top sunning while her dog, that looked to be some fluffy frou-frou breed, laid next to her.
Mark nudged Jake. “Who goes to get a tan at the dog park?”
“She does,” Jake replied. “But come on, don’t complain. It sure beats watching the kids on the T-ball field.”
Jake may have had a point, but now that they had company, drinking beer and making lewd comments about the people who walked by on the track were pretty much out. Her mere presence simply raised their afternoon into the need to be civil and pleasant. In that instant, he hated her for that. He had to be mature all week in the office, and his afternoons at the park with the dogs and Jake gave him the opportunity to let loose.
“I can hear you, you know,” she said, not bothering to move anything but her lips.
“You want a beer?” Jake asked, popping the lid of the cooler in his hand.
She sat up and sent him a smile. “Now you’re talking my kind of language.” He tossed the gold can across the grass and she caught it one-handed. She tried to pop the top, but her nail cracked and she dropped the can to the ground, shaking her hand.
Mark picked up the beer and dropped it back into the cooler, grabbing a different one, and popping the top for her.
“My hero,” she said, sarcasm dripping, as she reached for the beer in his outstretched hand.
Mark pulled it back. “Can the snotty attitude, or I’ll drink it in front of you. I swear.”
She laughed, put her hands on her hips, tilted her head to the side, and bat her eyelashes.
Mark rolled his eyes before he handed her the beer, his eyes not leaving her face as she took a drink. He was mesmerized. Up close she was completely gorgeous—not a blemish on her face, and her hair had perfect ringlets in it, even if it was pulled back into a ponytail.
A football hit him on the side of the head, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Go long, Numbnuts,” Jake shouted.
Mark shook his head before he ran to the far edge of the park, awaiting the brown ball to come flying his way. He dove to catch it, but his dog Fred, yanked it out of the air before he could.
“Thanks for making me look bad, Fred,” Mark muttered as he snatched the ball free from the dog’s grip and tossed it back to Jake.
The cute girl was watching his every move and he suddenly felt very self-conscious. She never spoke, she just laughed occasionally as she drank her beer and watched the guys try to beat their dogs to the football.
After an hour, just as the sun was starting to set, Jake pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I gotta take this, hang on.”
“It didn’t even ring, you liar.”
Jake tapped the screen and slipped the phone into his pocket. “I gotta go, man. I’ll leave the cooler with you.”
“Dude, you’re my ride, you aren’t leaving anything with me.”
“Naw, I gotta run,” Jake said, snapping the leash onto George’s collar and hurrying toward the gate.
“I can take you home,” the girl said from behind him. “If you trust me. I mean, I could be some psycho stalker who will throw rocks at your windows at all hours of the night.”
“With a frou-frou dog like that, I wouldn’t put it past you,” he said with a laugh. He put his hand out. “Mark.”
“Genevieve.” The name was beautiful, just like her. For a second, he forgot how to shake hands, especially when he realized electricity shot up his arm from her touch. When he let go of her hand, he was smitten.
She flipped her sunglasses on top of her head, and he could see that her eyes were blue and perfectly matched her bikini top.
“Park closes at sunset,” Mark whispered, suddenly unable to find his voice. “Want to go get some dinner?”
“My frou-frou dog and I intend to stick around for the fireworks.”
She reached out, sparks of excitement lighting her eyes, and pulled him to her into a hot, fiery kiss. “Those.”