This Is Who I Am #selfFULL #tuesdaythoughts

It’s a New Year and I’m reposting this for you lovelies who would like to get to know me a little better.

Bisous,

Marquessa xoxo

***

Like I said in this past post, I don’t do selfies.

I always prefer to be behind the camera than in front of it. But since a few curious readers asked me “what I look like”, I’ve decided to post a photo.

A photo.

One photo.

A “one time thing” that will likely not happen again for a long time.

And this photo may go POOF! Then it may disappear when I revamp my blog in the coming months.

So if you would really, really like to see “who I am“, you’ll need to scroll down.

Yeah, scroll down.

Scroll down some more.

Scroll down some more again.

You’re almost there.

Okay, there you go…

This is who I am.

Wait…what did you say?

I never said that the photo would be a “recent” one! 🙂

All Rights Reserved ©2017 Marquessa Matthews

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#TBT – “The Fault In Our Stares” #fiction

On her way out of town, a woman sees her ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend…

“The Fault In Our Stares”

I’m sitting at a café in the airport waiting for my flight out of town when I notice Howard perched at one of the island seats at the other end of the café.

With her.

The woman he was likely cheating with long before everything and all that other shit hit the fan.

It’s obvious that Howard is whisking her away on a romantic weekend, just like he used to do with me when we were fresh and newly in love. It was on our first romantic getaway that he had professed his eternal and burning love for me.

Funny how quickly those flames had burned out…

When Howard glances my way, he’s startled to see me. Of course, he doesn’t smile and neither do I.

There is absolutely nothing to smile about.

Howard regroups, smirks, leans in and whispers bitter somethings into his new girl’s ear. She immediately spins around and begins the “I’m-the-new-girlfriend-don’t-look-at-MY-man” staring game which I decide not to play.

I can only imagine what he has told her about me but then again, I truly don’t give a shit.

The daggers in her eyes say it all…

He’s mine now…I’ve got your prize…

I resist the temptation to roll my eyes and give her my “You can fucking have him” stare.

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But there is a major fault in our stares that she will soon learn all on her own…

I see the quiet laughter etched all over Howard’s ugly face that is reflecting his thoughts:

Bitch, see how quickly I replaced you?

I refuse to feed the beast by showing emotions that I no longer have for him or his new “situation”.

But my eyes can’t resist responding to his.

Go fuck yourself loser. She can have you…

They both promptly give me their backs and put on a public display of excessively artificial affection just for my benefit.

Whatever…Knock yourselves out.

Howard and his new girl can’t keep their hands off of each other so I assume that the sex is still decent. But in time, the joke will be on her when he can no longer get it up and it will be her fault. And she’ll be completely surprised when his hands will be all over her in a totally different way.

The sting of his first slap to “knock the stupid out of her” will show her what a wonderful “prize” she has won…that is, right after he blames her making him do it.

Realizing that I’m running late, I trash the rest of my coffee, grab my carry-on spinner and leave the café, passing just inches away from them.

I can’t help but smile when I notice that the scar I gave him on his forehead hasn’t healed properly. Howard deserves to be permanently reminded of me and the seven fucked up months I actually stayed with him. I wonder what lie he told her to explain that scar away.

Back in the main terminal, I sprint to my gate, remembering that the last time I had run that fast was out of Howard’s house after he tried to school me for the first and last time.

All Rights Reserved ©2017 Marquessa Matthews.

The Voice #writerwednesday #writerslife

This post is for the writers out there who are always ready, willing and quick to disbelieve that readers enjoy their writing.

Yeah, I’m talking to you...

“The Voice”.

As writers, some of us have it and some of us don’t.

To me, “The Voice” is the kind of writing that makes me lean into what I’m reading. The kind of writing where I can actually “hear” the writer’s tone, rhythm and cadence of their words in my head.

It’s almost as if the writer is a friend sitting across from me at the coffee shop talking to me.

“The Voice” can be raw with emotion, drip with sarcasm or be as gentle as a whisper. And with each and every sentence, that voice is always genuine, vulnerable and authentic.

We all strive to have our voice shine through but like I said, some writers already have it and when we “hear” it, we should tell that writer. It could give them the boost of confidence they may need.

That’s what I plan on doing from now on when I hear “the voice” – when I hear it, I’ll say it.

All Rights Reserved ©2017 Marquessa Matthews.

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