The Guest – Dalmatia Flemming

The Guest – Dalmatia Flemming

Michele relaxed into the oversized, overstuffed chair, released a self-satisfied sigh and began to sip her glass of wine.  She was excitedly anticipating the arrival of her husband Dan’s ex-wife, Sarah.  Sarah, the mother of Danny Jr., would be staying with them around the time of his high school graduation, June of ‘94.

It hadn’t always been this way.  Michele had been very stressed out by the situation just a few months ago.  In January, Dan informed her that Sarah had asked to stay with them during this time and that he had told her yes.  What… he didn’t even have the decency to consult with her first?  Michele was furious.  How dare he!

But the more time she had to think about it, the more she began to realize that everything would be just fine.  Who knows, perhaps after this visit Sarah would never ask to stay with them again.

Twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, Michele took another sip of wine.  She mentally acknowledged her Inspirator; a genius, no other came close.  A little smile came over her face as she replayed various well thought out scenarios in her head.  Should she choose just one or plan for all three?

Of course, it would all start with Michele being an absolute dream hostess, the most welcoming one could ever hope for.  She would strike the perfect balance between tending to Sarah’s every whim and in creating an atmosphere of complete autonomy for Sarah to move throughout the house and do as she pleased.  This is the only way it could work.

There would be the time that, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Sarah would decide to make herself lunch.  After all, Michele would have told her that she had spent that last 2 weeks cooking from scratch and had placed many tasty morsels in the freezer for Sarah to enjoy any time she felt like it.  “Please, just help yourself and make yourself at home” Michele would have said.  Then, when Sarah opened the freezer, she would find various shapes and sizes of aluminum foil wrapped goodies with labels such as “Bob – heart”, “Sue – eyes” or “Paul – tongue”.  Michele smiled and took another sip of wine, imagining what Sarah’s expression might be at the sight of this.

Or, after leaving a little comment here and another little comment there, all in good taste of course, Michele would create intense curiosity as to what went on behind the closed doors of Dan and Michele’s bedroom.  With the circumstances just right, Michele, who always left their bedroom door open when the room was unoccupied, would leave a drawer or two open in their dresser, maybe with something silky flowing out just beyond the drawer’s edge.  Sarah, overcome with curiosity, would decide to discretely peek into these drawers and would find hard core dominatrix paraphernalia; cuffs, whips and the like.  Michele took another sip of wine and audibly giggled at the thought.

Now, this next one just might be too over the top.  This one could send Sarah running out of the house screaming.  Granted, it would be doubtful that Sarah would ever stay with them again, but Michele was thinking the more subtle previous scenarios might be a better approach.

Upon Sarah’s arrival, Michele would lead her upstairs and give her the lay of the land; there’s our bedroom, here’s the bathroom and here’s your room.  Upon entering Sarah’s room, Michele would open the closet door revealing 2 large vats marked “Lye” and 3 skeletons hanging in the closet.  Then Michele would say something very causal like, “Oh dear, I forgot to clean out the closet after our last guest’s visit.  Why don’t you go downstairs and relax after your long journey and I’ll just tidy this up a bit”.

Michele chortled, raised her glass of wine and made an imaginary toast to her Inspirator, Jeffery Dahmer.

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About bbcstudiowrites

This blog is me archiving the BBC Studio Writers Workshop.

Posted on November 11, 2014, in Fiction, Seattle, Short Stories. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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