|# ¿ Mar 6, 2013 15:49|
|# ¿ May 23, 2022 05:36|
Visitor -- Word Count: 911 never forget
I wanted to get some cooking done before poo poo hit the fan, so I locked my doors, turned off my phone, and turned on some Michael Bublé. I was elbow-deep in a bag of carrots when someone knocked on the door.
"Jesus Christ," I said, and opened the door. It was Jesse. I shut the door and went back to the carrots.
He knocked again.
"I'm not here," I said.
"Very funny. Let me in? Charlotte? Please?" His voice cracked.
I have a heart, you know? So I let him in.
"You washed your hands today?" I asked.
Jesse looked at his hands. "Yeah, but - "
"Here. Chop these onions. What do you want?" I asked.
He was cutting the onions horizontally. Idiot.
"These onions are terrible," he complained. "I don't get why you keep putting them in everything. And they stink."
"Yeah, well, at least those onions don't sleep around," I said.
"It was one time - "
"No, one person. Multiple times."
I flipped the onion around and made him cut it properly. We didn't say anything for a while. I wanted to drown out the loud bullshit going on outside, so I turned up the music.
"Sorry about your mom," Jesse said quietly.
loving rear end in a top hat. Just when I'd gotten my mind off of it.
I thought, It's not fair. She was supposed to outlive me. She was always telling me about how she was going to see me grow up to be president, the first unmarried female president, and I'd get caught hate-loving some Republican senator. And then she was going to send me articles about that, and videos of animals doing people things, and…
I said, "Thanks."
"I saw her on the news. They used a really good picture of her."
"That picture sucked, her outfit was tragic. I told her if she was gonna wear mom jeans she could at least have the goddamn sense to not tuck her T-shirt into it."
I missed the carrot and sliced into my finger.
"Motherfucker," I explained.
"Hold on, I got some bandages." Jesse rifled through that stupid man purse he brings everywhere and pulled out a crumpled Band-Aid. It was one of those tiny round ones that doesn't do poo poo.
He handed it over. "It's all I have," he apologized.
"Whatever." Better than nothing. "Get yourself a drink if you want."
Jesse went over to the cabinet and I salvaged as many of the carrots as I could. He grabbed a plastic tumbler and filled it with red wine. He also brought one for me, which was nice I guess.
"So," he said.
I didn't respond.
"I know I said some terrible things," he continued. "And I did some terrible things. And I really want to patch things up between us, y'know?"
He put his hand on my arm. I reached for the olive oil.
"What do you want?" I asked.
Jesse took a deep breath. "I left my coat over here," he said. "The green one. The one with the pockets, remember? It's my -- it was my brother's."
"The one that smells like cat piss?"
"I think I burned it."
His shoulders sank.
"Joking. I was joking."
"Is it still here?" he asked.
"Yeah, I think. It's hanging up in the closet in a plastic bag, I think I was trying to quarantine it."
Jesse went over to check and I finished off the zucchini. He gazed at the jacket for a moment before putting it on. It looked good. Still smelled like poo poo, but it looked good on him.
"Did you wash this?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "I even used the fabric softener."
"I'll have to get some of that. This feels nice."
I looked out the window. It was stormy and lovely and loud out there.
"You don't need to be out in that mess," I said. "You can crash here if you need to."
"I don't wanna make you do that."
"No it's cool. You can sleep in the tub. In the morning, it'll be light out, it'll be a lot safer."
I put the tray of vegetables in the oven and checked the timer. I had a few more minutes before the sautéed greens were ready.
"I dreamt about you last night." He pulled at the frayed hem on his jacket. "It was a few weeks from now. All of this had blown over, things were getting back to normal. And we were back together. It was nice. I was wearing this jacket."
I didn't know how to respond so I just kept staring at the saucepan.
"Do you think there's any chance that could happen?"
"Huh? Oh. I dunno."
"I missed you," he said.
"That's why you came over? Cause you missed me? Cell phones still work, y'know." I needed wine.
"Yeah, well, sorry I wanted to talk to you in person I guess. Nobody's seen you in like a week. We were worried."
I put my drink down hard on the counter. Wine splashed up over the rim. "Sorry I wasn't feeling too social after my mom got killed by some - "
"Oh, my god! You're always like this. Always."
"Your name sounds like a girl's and Blade Runner sucked," I said.
Jesse rolled his eyes. "I'll call for a ride," he said, and headed out the door. "Your food smells like poo poo, by the way."
"Now that is just rude," I said to no one.
disclaimer: Blade Runner does not actually suck
|# ¿ Mar 10, 2013 17:19|
Thanks for the critiques, I was a playwriting major so I don't have a lot of experience writing prose. I'll watch out for the dialogue attributions next time.
I'm glad/surprised you didn't hate it!
|# ¿ Mar 12, 2013 11:57|
|# ¿ Mar 13, 2013 00:00|
Death of the Author (659 Words)
I was depressed and drunk, as usual. I was feeling old and washed up because I kept searching for 45 minutes for a replacement copy of Howl but I didn't find it but I did find my first novel in the $1 bin.
I had it all. God, that sounds so cheesy; like some washed-up former starlet in a Lifetime movie. But back in the good old days (2006) I had it pretty darn good. There were articles about me that used words like "prodigy" and "future classic" and "voice of our generation". But the articles started coming in less and less. And they started using phrases like "one hit wonder". I was the Chumbawumba of historical fiction.
I grabbed the 2 liter of Dr Pepper from beside the toilet and took a swig. The bathtub water was getting cold.
I was trying to remember who played the girlfriend on The Drew Carey Show when my agent walked in.
"Aaaah, what the hell," she said.
"Hi Molly. Would you like some Dr Pepper?" I offered. She didn't seem interested.
"What are you doing in here? Are you okay? No one's seen you or heard from you in a week, your landlord even called me to see when you were gonna pay rent."
"Eventually. I gotta sell some plasma first. What are you doing in here anyway? You here to steal my valuables?"
"What valuables? That autographed S Club 7 CD? Or the original PS2, the model they discontinued because it kept overheating?"
Molly lowered the toilet lid and gingerly sat down. She had her Concerned Professional look on her face.
"I was really worried about you," she said. "The way your last few emails had been, I was worried that you had… you know. Done something bad."
"I don't follow."
"You remember that last draft you sent me? And the constructive criticism I offered?"
"Oh, yeah. I remember now. You said it was pretentious garbage."
Molly winced. "Yes, that was -- "
"You said you'd seen better writing posted in the hallways outside a third-grade classroom," I recited.
"It was a little harsh, I know. It sounded better in my head. I just wanted to make sure that, well, if you had done something stupid, I didn't want people to put the blame on me."
"Oh yes, god forbid. Don't wanna damage your sterling reputation."
"What is with you? I've never seen you this grumpy, not since that Christmas party. What's bothering you?"
I stared up at the spiderweb forming on the ceiling. "I found Idyllic in the dollar bin," I said.
"Oh." She didn't seem that surprised. (Bitch.) "Well, it was such a big seller. Everyone's probably got a copy already, you know? Once you sell a certain point there's no one left to sell it to."
"You know who else I've seen in the clearance bin? Oscar Wilde. Ray Bradbury. Voltaire. Hell, I saw the Bible for 50% off once, swear to God. It's not a bad sign, really. Christ, can you put a robe on or something? I can't have a serious conversation with you like this."
I closed the shower curtain.
"Fine, be that way." She stood up to leave. "Whenever I was clearing out your inbox, I found that story you'd been working on. The one you sent to your old professor? I think it was called Meat and Marriage, or Meat and Murder, something like that?"
I stared at the dripping water faucet.
"It was good. Really good. Better than your first, even. You could be back on top if you wanted to. You're just gonna have to work hard."
Drip, drip, drip.
"Give me a call if you wanna talk about it."
I heard her heels click down the hallway. I heard her lock the apartment door behind her, and I was alone.
I stayed in there for a while, watching the cold water spiraling down the drain.
|# ¿ Mar 17, 2013 18:27|
Goddamn my entry was garbage. Next time I'm limiting myself to no more than 50% dialogue. (Maybe 25% if I'm feeling crazy)
|# ¿ Mar 19, 2013 18:44|
|# ¿ Mar 20, 2013 11:53|
Private Browsing (word count: 407)
browsing data of Vicky Jones
Today - Saturday, March 23, 2013
10:39am Isabel Jane
10:38am Mother's Wedding, October 1958
10:37am Victoria Ann Johnson Jones
10:35am Isabel Jane
10:33am Copy and Print Services. Custom Printing | Staples®
10:32am Isabel Jane
10:30am Pinterest / Wedding Invitations
10:29am Isabel Jane
10:24am Pinterest / Wedding
10:23am Isabel Jane
10:18am how to download pictures from pinterest - Google Search
10:16am Pinterest / Wedding Dresses
10:11am Pinterest / MOB
10:08am mother of bride dresses - Google Search
10:06am mother daughter in law bonding - Google Search
10:03am how to welcome daughter in law into family - Google Search
10:01am how to welcome daughter in law into family - Google Search
09:59am is my son dating a communist - Google Search
09:58am "The tradition of all the dead generations weighs li…" - Google Search
09:56am Favorite Quotations
09:55am Isabel Jane
09:55am Santos last name etymology - Google Search
09:54am Isabel Jane
09:51am Charlie Jones
09:48am Victoria Ann Johnson Jones
09:46am congratulations on your engagement - Google Search
09:46am Google Images
browsing data of Isabel Santos
Today - Saturday, March 23, 2013
11:31am Weddings Las Vegas, Chapel, Ceremony, Vow Renewal, Vows ...
11:28am las vegas wedding chapel - Google Search
11:26am Expedia.com is searching for flights on selected travel dates: Fri 03/29/2013 - T…
11:25am Vacations, Cheap Flights, Airline Tickets & Airfares
11:25am justice of the peace new jersey
11:23am Mother's Wedding, October 1958
11:22am Pinterest / Wedding Dresses
11:21am Isabel Jane
11:13am fat corgi - Google Search
11:10am corgi - Google Search
|# ¿ Mar 23, 2013 18:49|
thank you thank you THANK YOU.
|# ¿ Mar 24, 2013 14:27|
Critiques for Week XXXIII: Noah, SpaceGodzilla, Erik Shawn-Bohner, HaitianDivorce, Fumblemouse, Nubile Hillock, pug wearing a hat, Steriletom, and Baggy_Brad
Thanks for the feedback -- I wasn't really sure how much to show and how much to imply. Basically my idea was "girl is getting married, girl's well meaning but overbearing mother in law spams her Facebook with traditional wedding ideas, girl panics and decides to elope". Which really isn't much of a plot, you're right.
I'm glad referencing the quote in the prompt worked. I was worried it would be too cheesy.
Hooray I didn't lose!
|# ¿ Mar 25, 2013 12:39|
I am in. Disappointed I can't use this as an excuse to workshop my Ke$ha rock opera, but I'm in.
|# ¿ Mar 26, 2013 11:44|
How are you defining Top 40? Can I still do a pop song?
(This prompt owns btw)
|# ¿ Mar 26, 2013 12:52|
Seeds - 693 words
inspired by Heaven and Hell by Annie
Perrie kinda hated this bar but it was Harmony’s bachelorette party so she really didn’t have a say in the matter. Sure, it was loud and trashy, and the cigarette smoke made her queasy, but it was good to be out of the house and away from her mom for a while.
“That guy’s cute,” Harmony yelled like two inches from Perrie’s ear.
“I said, that guy’s cute.” Harmony gestured with her vodka tonic.
“That guy’s shoes? I guess they’re okay.”
Harmony laughed, resting her hand on Perrie’s shoulder. That was another thing Perrie hated, how touchy-feely she was. Goddamn just let a girl have her space, y’know?
Perrie took a closer look at him. He wasn’t half-bad. Kinda greasy looking. Slicked-back black hair, wearing a tight black T-shirt. He was ripped. He was leaning against the jukebox (this place actually had a jukebox) (who still has those anymore). Normally Perrie preferred skinny guys in skinny jeans, but there was something alluring about this guy.
“I think I’m gonna talk to him.”
“Oh my god! Do it!” Harmony’s shrill, ear-piercing laugh cut through the crowd noise. She yelled something about how they were meant to be, but Perrie couldn’t really hear, couldn’t really care.
Perrie made her way through the crowd, her purse clutched close to her chest, until she made it to the jukebox. She cleared her throat. “Hey, uh. You must be a parking ticket. Cause you're the only ten I see.” gently caress!
He looked up. “What?”
“Oh god, I’m sorry. I said it wrong. I’m gonna go back over there for a while...”
“No, no! Don’t worry about it. That was funny.” He put down his rum and coke and extended his hand. “Name’s Hank.”
“Perrie.” She shook his hand and sat across from him.
“That’s a nice, firm handshake. Usually girls are a lot weaker than that.”
“You shaking hands with a lot of girls?”
“Well, I try to be a gentlemen. You saying I should go straight for the kiss first thing?”
“All right then.” He took a sip from his glass. “I like that shirt, by the way.”
“Oh, this old thing?” Perrie pulled at the threadbare Röyksopp shirt she’d stolen from her stepbrother. “Yeah, I saw them live once. It was cool.”
“Cool. I’m not a big fan of them myself. But it fits you drat good.”
(Perrie didn’t like them either. But drat if that shirt didn’t make her look nice.)
Hank cleared his throat and stood up. “Well, I should go.”
“No, no!” Perrie tugged at his shirt. His tight, tight shirt. “C’mon, tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Well, what did I do wrong?”
“Nothing.” Hank took another swig. “You’re perfect. I just didn’t want to monopolize your time. A pretty girl like you, you got your pick of any guy here.”
Perrie blushed. She didn’t really know what to say without sounding like an egotistical bitch, so she just leaned over and kissed him. She was a bit out of practice but he seemed pleased. What you lack in technique, you can always make up for in enthusiasm.
She was never one of those girls who believed in true love, a knight in shining armor. But feeling his strong arms wrapped around her made her think that maybe true love could be out there. His armor might just be a little dirtier than you’d expect.
Perrie felt her phone go off. One new text from Harmony.
hey, i see u 2 are hitting it off, we’ll see u at the hotel, be safe <3 maya says to wrap it before you tap it!
“Who’s that?” Hank asked. “Everything okay?”
“Nothing. My cousin. They’re going home early, looks like. I may need a ride home.”
“Sure. We can sober up at my place for a while. Then I’ll drive you home.”
“Let me buy you a drink."
“Oh, that’s all right. I’ve had quite a few already.”
“No, no, it’s on me. What do you want?”
“Whatever you want.”
Hank ordered one pomegranate martini for the road.
pug wearing a hat fucked around with this message at 01:50 on Mar 30, 2013
|# ¿ Mar 29, 2013 23:36|
Thanks so much for the feedback, I always appreciate it when people take the time to do a line-by-line criticism. That's gotta take up a huge chunk of time.
My only question -- was it clear enough that it was supposed to be a retelling of Persephone and Hades? Because rereading it, I don't think I was clear enough about that.
|# ¿ Apr 1, 2013 16:09|
|# ¿ May 23, 2022 05:36|
I'm gonna use The Third-Floor Window
|# ¿ Apr 2, 2013 15:26|