Tuesday, October 4, 2011

My winning entry to the Mistress of the Darkpath contest

As most of you know, I entered the Musings of the Mistress of the Darkpath September writing contest.  To my surprise, I won!!  In case you haven’t read the story that I entered, here it is….

Just one of those days by Charity Parkerson
Jane Hughes could remember over the years, having heard several stories of people who claimed that they had not thought about the consequences of their actions, before tossing themselves into the fray of an ongoing fight. She could claim no such virtue. While walking to her car after a little late night shopping at the Clearview mall, she came across a mugging. She would like to say that she jumped straight in helping the hapless woman, but that is not what happened. Instead, she carefully catalogued each item of her clothing wondering how easily it be ripped off. After all, no one wanted to end up like one of those women shown on Cops, handcuffed with one boob hanging out. Deciding that her cotton shirt and Reebok running shoes would most likely withstand the assault, she flung herself bodily onto the woman’s attacker.
The sight, sound, and smell of a fight was completely different in real life, she noted absently, as the woman she’d been trying to help landed a sharp elbow to Jane’s gut. Sucking in a sharp breath, she drew the sickly scent of cheap perfume, mixed with blood into her lungs. She had known there was a chance she’d get her butt handed to her, when she made the choice to step in. The tiny brown haired woman seemed to be holding her own against the sleek muscle of her attacker, but Jane knew it would only be a matter of time before he would wear her down. After several long moments of trying to force her way between them, she landed a few solid kicks to the attacker’s shins, only managing to elicit a grunt from him.
Jane backed away reassessing the situation. Never once did it occur to her that she should call 911. Her only thought was of winning. The longer she thought of the plight of women everywhere who were denied the right to shop alone at night, and not ruin their jeans, the more outraged she became. Rage rolled through her veins, and with a warrior like roar, she launched herself bodily into the man’s side like a linebacker. He went down hard. Unfortunately, the forward momentum sent her sprawling as well, her forehead cracking his jaw solidly on the way down. All thought came to a screeching halt, as she rolled to her side clutching her head in pain.
The sound of heeled feet slapping the pavement, alerted her of the woman’s final escape. Gentle hands tugged at hers.
“Did I win?” she asked, between her fingers.
He chuckled lightly. “Yes, you did. Now, let me see.” The concern in his voice caused her to drop her hands, meeting the eyes of the supposed attacker for the first. His eyes were the greenest that she had ever seen, and the gentleness she saw in them seemed so at odds with what she witnessed him doing earlier, that the question fell from her lips unbidden.
“Who the hell are you?”
Reaching behind him he quickly flashed his badge. “Lt. Robert Hall. You just let my shoplifter get away.”
Taking note of his perfect smile and manners, her mind accepted her fate as her lips admitted it aloud. “Well crap. I guess I’m going to have to pop a boob out after all.”

This story and contest can be found at:

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