The e-Writer's Club

“We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin,” Paloma narrated the car’s slow incline up the frosty, unpaved road, her voice monotonous yet decidedly disapproving. She had been doing this the whole car trip.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Mira exclaimed excitedly as she took in the small village of cabins surrounding a larger central, communal building i.e., reception. “Just look at it.”

“The old crone screeched her approval as she approached her lair, nefarious intentions soon to be realised.”

“Hm, well at least you took a moment to pull your head out of that book.” Mira replied dryly to her notoriously unimpressed oldest child. Paloma just exhaled heavily through her nose. Mira raised her eyebrows and turned her attention back to finding the right cabin, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. This was going to be a good trip. Husband Adam’s life depended on it.

Mira rounded a small pile of snow banked up along the the edge of the road and spotted her cabin, A-4, catching her breath. With a warm timbered wooden build, front door painted a deep blue, fresh coat of snow cushioning the slanted roof in a clearing of snow-covered pines, and the most adorable cabin windows that she had ever seen, it was just like the pictures in the brochure, and every other cabin that she had passed on the way here honestly speaking. But this cabin, Mira knew, was the most beautiful of all the cabins. It was the coziest, and it was the quaintest. Because for three days this cabin, Mira thought dreamily to herself, was hers. She sighed. And Paloma’s and May’s and Sunny’s and Jackson’s. The fruitful sum of twelve years of marriage to her husband, Adam. Today, this marital partnership was supposed to be paying dividends in the form of a solo getaway for all of three days. But no, she was solo no more, and who was she getting away from. And all because Adam, who had assured her five months previous, that he had decisively booked these days off work and would be available to watch the kids, had not come through after all. Because Adam, who she was now almost certain, was on his knees at work every day fellating his supervisors, had not learned to say no, to them. At least that’s what she had told him when he had delivered the news to her about his urgent, last-minute business trip that he just couldn’t say no to. Adam had countered, saying that this trip could result in a promotion. Or maybe, Mira had proffered helpfully, every time that he had shaped his pretty mouth to say the one syllable word, his boss went in for another thrust. The resulting fight devolved quickly and immaturely, like two teenagers going from lovers to enemies to “I don’t feel seen by you”, punctuated with even more juvenile behaviour like Mira’s deepthroating gagging sounds and comments like, “You just have to breath through your nose, Adam.” Yes, not their finest hour and the following morning, Adam had packed his suitcase, a feeling of sullen discontent hanging thick in the air. On his way out he had paused momentarily in the doorway of the kitchen. It seemed, Mira had thought at the time, that he had been about to speak, maybe even apologise, but some choice choking sounds and loud nose breathing on her part had hurried him out the door without so much as a goodbye. And so, suppressing the guilt that she felt at her own childish behaviour, and not wanting to cancel her long planned trip but being unable to organise a last-minute babysitter to care for her wildling children, she had subsequently piled them into the back seat of the car and towed them along with her. The trip had been six hours, but the presence of her children made it feel like an eternity, or an extended flight in economy class, whichever was worse.

Parking the car in front of the cabin, Mira walked over to the main building, children not in tow. This building served as both the administration office and communal centre for the site and as Mira entered the building she was immediately embraced by the warmth within and all thoughts of her slack-jawed husband or demon children simply dissipated from her mind. “Well how are you today?” A kind faced, middle-aged woman queried from behind the front desk.

“I’m well, thank you. How are you?”

“Quite alright, thank you very much. My name is Tammy, are you just checking in?”

“Yes, um, Mira Brandy, I’m booked for cabin A-4.” Mira pulled out her reservation, showing the lady.

“No need, I have it right here on the computer. Are you here for the writer’s function or just for a short vacation?” She tapped away at the computer. She was of course referring to the e-Writer’s club that was conducting its annual meeting here over the weekend and Mira was attending.

“Yes, the writers club.”

“Oh,” the woman made a knowing smile. “I bet there’s an Anne Rice or Maya Banks in there somewhere.”

Mira laughed, a tad uncomfortably. “Thanks. We’ll see.”

“Well, I see your safety deposit is already paid as well as the mandatory twenty percent deposit for the cabin, so I just need some identification,” Mira supplied her driver’s licence. “Thank you, you’re all good to go. Enjoy your stay and give as a call if you need anything, the number’s by the landline in the cabin,” She handed Mira a set of keys. “Oh, and good luck.”

“Th-thank you. Would it be okay, is that the room where the meeting is?” Mira gestured towards a door that was partially open through which tables with chairs positioned into what looked like a circle could be seen. “Can I check it out, I’ll be quick.”

“Of course, of course go through,” she waved Mira towards the room. “In fact I think I saw Julia go in there just before, she might still be around.” Mira thanked her and walked towards the room. As Mira approached, she heard voices inside. Gently tapping on the door, she pushed it open and entered. Four people stood in the centre of the tables talking quietly but broke off when she entered. “Hi everyone.” Mira waved, almost apologetically for the interruption. A woman in her forties with long blonde hair took a step towards her, tapping the air with her finger, as if trying to remember something. “Mira?” she asked, her expression brightening at Mira’s confirmation. “Oh, you came, finally. It’s been so long.” She ushered Mira over to their tight knit circle.

“Yes, it took a six-hour drive but I’m here. How have you been, Julia?”

“Just terrific, here let me introduce you to everyone, well not everyone there’s more but this is, Jessica,” she said gesturing to a twenty-something year old with short brown hair, followed by her two companions, Bryan, and Elise, also two twenty-something year old’s. “They’ve rented a cabin together for the weekend.”

“Oh how nice, did you guys come here together?” Mira inquired.

“We just met.” Bryan responded.

“Oh.” She nodded.

“What about you?” Jessica asked. “A lot of the member’s rented cabins together, did you go in with anyone?” Mira thought wistfully about the cabin that was supposed to be her quiet, solo retreat for the weekend.

“No, I had to bring my kids with me last minute so…” Did everyone just recoil slightly?

“Kids,” Elise nearly choked out. “I wouldn’t have thought this was a place for kids.”

"Yes, well, unfortunately we had a last-minute change of plans with my husband’s work, but I read online that this place has activities for kids, so they’ll be kept busy.”

“Hmm, yes well, we’re happy to have them.” Julia said, and Mira wasn’t sure she believed her.

***

Two dozen similarly interested writers hoping to refine their skills, bounce ideas off fellow aspiring authors and receive or dish out criticism, hopefully constructive, filled the club room the following morning. Mira’s kids had been dropped off in another room where staff had set up a projector with a movie marathon of the old Disney classics playing. They had been instructed to be on best behaviour, Sunny and May to stay away from each other, and Paloma to lift her head out of her book occasionally, to check on them. Jackson would be totally absorbed by the movie marathon, so he was cool.

Mira took a seat at an available table as introductions got underway. Julia, along with several other leaders of the club who had organised the meeting laid out the itinerary for the three day event including the list of writing activities that they would partake in and the opportunity to review each other’s work that members brought with them. Mira had a binder folder of her own work.

Pulling out a notepad and pen for the first writing activity – capturing the sensuality of touch – Mira briefly glanced at her mobile. She noted the missed call from her husband and voice message from the day before but pointedly ignored them, dropping her phone back into her bag. After the task, members took turns reading their work to the group. Finally, Elise, from the day before stood up and began reading.

-His work-worn, calloused fingers caressed her silken skin which glowed softly in the iridescent, flickering candlelight.-

It was at this moment that she felt a tug at her sleeve followed by a soft, “mum”. Her mouth pressed together tightly as she turned around. Jackson, she felt betrayed. “Mum, I’m hungry.”

- His touch prickled with heat as they slid up further, her back arching, knees splaying outwards and tensing, a soft moan escaping from between her supple, half-open lips - Elise moaned too.

“Jackson, you can’t be in here.” She whispered furiously.

– Her hand grappled with the fastening of his pants, feeling the thickening of his manhood beneath – Elise moaned again. Was the character moaning or just the writer?

“But I’m hungry.”

“I thought they had snacks, just eat those.”

– Finally, with trembling fingers, the fastenings loosened, the fly of his pants tore open, and she gripped the full length of his member between both hands tightly, taught skin pulsing, and growing harder-

Mira stood, ducking low so as not to draw attention to herself and hurried Jackson out the door. Once in the safety of the hallway outside she turned around.

“I don’t want that though.” Deep breath.

“Well, what do you want?”

“Chips,” Of course. “They have a canteen.”

“Fine, but don’t interrupt me one more time.” Mira got the kid his chips and sneaked back into the club room.

With so many people attending they couldn’t hear everyone’s writing pieces so for the next activity where they would be reviewing each other’s work they broke off into smaller groups of five or six. Mira’s group had five and apart from Bryan, who she had met before, Mira was not familiar with the others.

For the better part of an hour they went around the group, listening and providing feedback on each other’s work. Mira preferred this to the prospect of reading out loud to the whole group, work that she guarded like it was her most private of diary entries. In a way it was. From wish fulfillment to experimental, Mira had written about any number of things that she had in some way implemented or attempted to implement or dreamed of implementing into her relationship with Adam. And Adam for the most part, had been very receptive, maybe too receptive in some cases. She never told him what she wrote about but she had “borrowed” a lot from their relationship for her writing. Even her male leads name, Alex, short for Alexander, was Adam’s middle name. It helped her to visualise the scenes more.

They finished up their feedback session for Bryan’s work, who, Mira thought silently, had a long way to go in many places. She kept that to herself though. It was now her turn.

- Alex was tense against the leather bindings holding his knees up to his shoulders, but he did not resist. Emily drew the metal, tear drop shaped object down his face, over the black sash bound around his eyes and down the length of his nose to rest against his moistened lips. Slowly, with only the smallest amount of pressure applied by Emily, Alex’s lips gave way, parting only ever so slightly to allow the cool metal to push through and he began to suck. With her free hand, Emily went from gripping his muscled outer thigh, just below, or above in this case, his firm buttock to trace her fingers to the soft interior of his –

“Are you talking about what you do with dad in the bedroom?” Paloma interrupted. Mira nearly fell out of her chair as everyone in her group spun in unison to look for the source of the voice, which was very obviously that of a child. Paloma had drawn up a chair behind everyone else and had her own notepad and pen at hand. Unbelievable.

“Paloma!”

“Are those the leather ropes I found tied to your bed a few weeks ago?” Mira froze as everyone looked at her. Damn this kid.

“You shouldn’t be here.” She said between gritted teeth.

“Is everything alright over here?” Julia asked hurrying over. At the sight of Paloma her eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe. “Why, Mira this is no place for a child.”

“Julia, I assure you she is not supposed to be here.”

“Its quite disrespectful to the other members.”

“Bryan,” Paloma ignored the two adults discussing the appropriateness of her presence. “I really liked your piece.”

“Oh, really,” he said uncertainly, but blushing none the less. “Thank you.”

“However,” she continued. “I found your writing to lack emotional depth.”

“What?”

“The characters are too disconnected from one another and the reader. Your narrator lacks a voice.”

“Excuse me.”

“Also, I find your sentence structure to be quite clunky. Did you edit your work before presenting? The two leads are so wooden, especially when they have sex, which is basically the whole time.”

“Paloma, out, now!” Mira pointed at the door and Paloma, rolling her eyes jumped off her seat and walked out of the room, leaving Bryan, eyes bulging and throat making inhuman guttural noises, behind in complete defeat. Savage. Mira turned to the maimed would be author whose face had turned a deep, deep scarlet. She was about to apologise profusely, not for the precise criticism that, for all her mortified rage at Paloma’s presence here in the club room, could not deny the critique as being anything other than demonstrably true, but for the fact that it had come from an eleven-year-old. Ouch. But before one word had left her mouth the air split. The piercing scream would have sent any bird in a five kilometre radius crashing to the ground and Mira immediately knew. May.

Mira excused herself as quickly as she could and nearly ran out of the room. The makeshift movie theatre had been set up only a short way from the writer’s club and oh how the sound carried. She had just to turn the corner to be faced with both victim and culprit, or maybe just culprits. Sunny was standing there, arms crossed, an expression of utmost satisfaction playing across her face in a cold smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Jackson, emotionally over-encumbered from the six hours sandwiched between his two sisters on the drive here followed by just being around them, was sobbing silently. And May, oh May. The double doors to the kids’ room had a metal bracket bolted to each door that could be used to completely block off this entry for whatever reason. May was standing in front of said bracket, writhing furiously, and screaming non-stop, trying to reach behind her head to untie her hair which had been knotted around the bracket. Mira just buried her face into her hands. This was just the first day. “Sunny, one warning. Untie her now.” Mira walked away to the foyer where the empty reception desk was located. She sank into one of the available chairs, slouching down as far as she could. It was only then that she realised she had brought her handbag with her. She reached in and took out her mobile. There were actually two missed calls, both from yesterday about an hour apart and two voice messages. She played the first one.

- Um, it’s me, Adam – no shit – Um, I’m here at the airport and I, uh, just got a call from my boss. He, uh, said that the trip was cancelled so, um, I – what – I’m going to drive home. If your okay leaving just a little bit later I can still look after the kids, I’ll be home in about forty. Okay, see you soon, hopefully – Did she just miss him yesterday walking out the door?

The second message began to play.

- So, um, it’s me again. I guess you already left. I’m really sorry about this. Um, so, you left some of your papers for your trip on the table – shit she had meant to bring them. No problem, they weren’t important – um, well, I was just flicking through the one about the writing club that you’re a part of… um, is it an erotic writer’s club? – oh, shit – I thought the 'e' in e-Writer’s Club was just because it was an online thing. You don’t have the kids like, with you, in the room, do you? - Mira gripped the phone tightly, knuckles whitening. The kids weren’t even supposed to fucking be here.