"Each week, 3WW will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. I'll also attempt to write something using the same three words.
Leave a comment if you participate. Many fun and interesting people might visit your blog.
This week's words are:
One thing you could always count on about Lilith... she was very determined. It didn't matter what kind of discussion there was or what opinions were expressed. Lilith wouldn't yield an inch of territory in her quest to forever be correct.
She was always impeccably dressed, perfectly coiffed, and smelled like she'd managed to escape the parade of perfumed squirters at Macy's with only one, naturally the most expensive, scent at just the right spot behind each ear. Her make-up was artfully applied as though she had her own cosmetologist just waiting for her to rise and shine and be expertly and aesthetically enhanced before meeting her public each day.
She was the one who'd been everywhere, done everything, seen phenomena never viewed by human eyes before hers. She relished telling tales of her exploits to her co-workers and me whenever she got the opportunity as well as a few times when she just outright made the opportunity.
Lilith was, to put it quite bluntly, a royal, unequaled, monumental, pain in the ass.
She had no friends. Oh occasionally there would be one or two unsuspecting victims who, however briefly, were taken under Lilith's wing, but for the most part people knew when they saw Lilith coming to run like hell the other way. If a newly hired employee didn't get that message all on her own, the office grapevine filled her in before she'd had time to get her first cup of coffee at the water cooler.
Which is why, when Lilith showed up at midnight, on my doorstep, sobbing, in her pajamas, disheveled and sans so much as eyeliner or blush, I assumed I was having an out of body experience.
In between her sobbing gulps and her stuttering hiccoughs, I finally figured out that Lilith was asking me if she could spend the night on my couch. There was no question of saying no to her request. No one with an ounce of compassion could have turned that sobbing puddle of berzerk nerves and hysterical ramblings out into the street. So I got her some sheets, a blanket, and an extra pillow, and she bedded down for the night in my living room.
In the morning I expected I would get some kind of explanation for Lilith's panicked behavior the night before. But when I checked my couch, Lilith was gone. Not only that but she didn't show up for work that day, or any day after that.
For all the information Lilith had told us about where she'd been and what she'd done and what an expert she was about so many different things, no one really had any clue at all about who Lilith was. Not where she came from... nothing. No trace of her was ever found; no personal belongings were discovered in the small apartment she'd rented near the office where we worked. She was declared a missing person by local law enforcement, and the case remains open to this day.
So who was Lilith... really? And why did she choose me on the last night anyone ever saw her to give her shelter and maybe some small display of comfort? And why is it every year around Christmas time, ever since Lilith disappeared, I get a card in the mail with two brand new $100 bills tucked inside? No message, no return address, and a postmark that's always outside the United States. I don't know for sure that it's Lilith, but I'd bet a year's wages that it is.