Date nights are always the same.
He sits. He mixes. He has incredible talent – just not enough.
She looks over at him and knows she has won the last three hundred years of husband vs wife date night games. The hardest part is letting him come close, without making it obvious. She often considered letting him win, but he won’t believe it unless it is earned, unless he senses he has exhausted everything and she had no answer to his brilliance.
“You ready, darling?” She whispers and smiles, “World leader face off?”
“Of course. You ready to finally get beaten?” He replies, knowing he has long since lost any element of belief in his words.
He works furiously at the compounds and elements.
Then adds the forces.
A dash of boyish charm. Charisma. A sense of compassion. A psychotic grin. A penchant for self-destruction. He winks.
“Behold…I give you…Tony Blair.”
“Ohhhh. That’s a good one.”
She works herself. It is more methodical, more refined and measured. It is always this way.
A sprinkling of megalomania. A large dose of bewilderment. A sense of legacy unfulfilled. She twerks to mix it all together.
“I give you…George W. Bush.”
He shakes his head. He looks dejected. Then he realises she is winner of round one and needs to let her go again.
She has a look of mischief; she is holding something back.
Cheeky grin. Determination. Social responsibility. World stage charm. Deceit. Overactive hormones. The whiff of tobacco and bodily fluids.
“Hazaar …Bill Clinton.”
He puts the equipment away. He realises he is defeated.
“Well done, my love.” He smiles.
“Maybe next week?” She offers, but knows, with absolute certainty, it will never happen.
Usual rules. 36 hours. Up to 360 words. Using the photo prompt above (the black and white one).
Not much to say about this, other than I had a blast writing it and I’m happy with the result.
This was the most impressive week ever on Hourglass and any of the stories could have won, seriously, it was that good.
Congrats to the winners.