Any rating, any length. Any pairing, but really, Mick needs to be involved here.
The challenge will run through the end of April.
Please note that all entries should be new stories, and should be inspired by the Challenge prompt. Thanks!
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PG13
Disclaimer:
I don’t own Moonlight.
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.
No copyright infringement is intended.
Furniture Failure
I meant to get a good night’s sleep last night… SLEEP….yes…human sleep. But I have friends, well actually a certain friend, Josef.
“Boyo, Roche Bobois wouldn’t be my choice for my nightly repose. That’s if you know I slept” Josef strolled around loft as if seeking something of great value. He plucked at the bowl of grapes, holding them up in the light to examine their dusky shapes, “It’s amazing with a bit of fermenting and a big splash of O+ these babies are quite tasty”
I had to give him a sideways look, “Don’t play with my food” I yawned as I wrangled the dirtied dishes into the dishwasher I had never used until this week.
“So, back to your little paraphernalia situation… too bad you hadn’t gone with Buatta” The grapes had lost Josef’s interest and now he was in the fridge, opening take out containers registering varying levels of yay or nay with full facial expressions.
“My food, Josef” I wanted to snap at him with a dish towel.
“Well, I always let you play with my food” Josef closed the door and washed his hands with an exaggerated flourish.
“Which I don’t” I was emphatically walking around the loft, physically overstating my nightly housekeeping before I retired.
It was a bit of a human ritual I remember my Mother doing before she went to bed. She must have been the one. Each evening Dad and I would leave magazines and the evening newspaper splayed over the coffee and end tables. I was especially guilty of leaving a pair of stanky socks, not stinky but truly stanky socks balled together and wedged in the corner of the sofa.
“You heading somewhere, champ?” Josef checked his watch; it was 12:38a.m.
“To bed” I emphasized “bed”.
“To bed? Right, well sleep tight; don’t let the bed bugs bite. I do remember bed bugs” Josef was about to give me the historical references behind the phrase as I gently spun him around and walked him to the front door.
“One day we’ll have a protracted discussion about idioms and how they apply in your life” My eyes were bloodshot, my back hurt and my jeans were a bit too tight, “Good-night, Josef” I patted him on his shoulder and gave him a tired grin.
The actual fact hit Josef like the market crash in 1989.
“Right, sleep well and ah…think about Mario Buatta” He had to have the last word.
I choked out, “Buatta?”
“The Prince of Chintz, Mario Buatta for the sofa” He shook his head as if he was dealing with a teenager, “G’night, Mick” and he was gone.
I had just cast a 400 year old vampire out of my home! I shook my head at my audacity and said my prayers as I showered in the hottest water I could stand. While I brushed and flossed I made tomorrow’s To Do list, at the top of my list, get a bed.
I may have sentenced Beth to spend a couple of nights on that rectangular form of torture but I wasn’t spending another night there. Then as the mechanical whir of the refrigerator lulled me to a sleep I recollected, if I had a bed, Beth wouldn’t have to sleep on the sofa.
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