creeping_minx

I've been in Chicago for nearly 8 weeks now. I'm here on work related buisness. I was annoyed one night when we were made to work late. Due to the time difference I was unable to call anyone back home. So instead I wrote this. Thanks for reading, feedback welcome (I'm about 50 words short of the 500 mark, sorry!)

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It is the coldest night so far here in Chicago. Not that I've seen much of it. I left work at 7pm. It was already dark out. A thin whisper of orange struggled to fight against the darkness in the west. Its conflict was futile. Then moon sat proudly in the sky overlooking the world. Trying to calm its rage with the growing radiance of its shine. Thousands of miles away a beautiful young man sat alone in his house avidly watching the news. What unrest has arisen to night?


I lay on my bed half undressed. Too tired to remove my trousers. My breathing was heavy and somewhat labored. I could feel my heart banging against my chest as I watched my bra rise and fall deeply and irregularly before me. A hundred thoughts running through my mind. They helped me forget my pain and I slipped into a light slumber.
I dreamt of the beautiful young man. I dreamt he came to me and put his hands on my stomach. He kissed me softly and assured me all was well. An overwhelming sense of well being washed over my body and I awoke with a gentle jolt. I smiled.


I automatically reached for my cigarettes. I opened them and looked inside as if I was starring into the deepest abyss. I slide out one of the long white sticks and rested it gently between my dry lips. I felt the horribly sweet smoke fill my mouth and move to my lungs. I coughed a little cough and sat back.


My thoughts once again returned to the young man. I could vision him in my head. He sat on a long leather sofa designed for two. Pictures of the world flickered on the TV screen. He could not hear the words but the pictures spoke louder than anything else. He sighed. The world sat under his fingers as he typed. I could not see what he was doing but I knew his eyes were sore. He rubbed them.


I took yet another sip of whiskey and sucked the last draw from the cigarette. I looked behind me as I sat my glass down and saw myself in the mirror. My hair is long now and covers most of my tattoo. I quickly turn and stare at the telephone. I hope for it to ring. Adverts for Ipods and dishwasher powder catch my attention for a moment.


I felt sad all of a sudden. I stretched my arms up above my body and notice it creates four different shadows on the wall. I cough a painful cough that makes my throat raw. I rest my hand at the top of my chest.

I fall back asleep.

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.........then i said "i must get out of these wet clothes and into a dry martini".........

eggo

Hey Cm,

I liked it. It had a nice feel to it. The story really revolves around an excellent character study of this woman. We get a ton of information about this woman, a little self destrutive, hard working and lonely.

The only problem I had was nothing was resolved. Will she make it back to him? When?

You've brought us to the place she was trapped, now describe the escape.

only one grammatical error,

Fragment, consider linking it to the previous sentence.

The first parargraph is a bit awkward. I would lose a bit of the descriptive prose there.
Great line.


Thank for the read

gohn67

Hey Creeping Minx,
I could feel your lonilness as I read this. You expressed the way you felt well in this short piece. So I guess it was sort of Therauputic, I think htat's the word, for you.

I agree with eggo that nothing is resolved in the end, but I guess that's like real life sometimes. May have to wait till tomorrow to get some resolution.

There were alot of tense shifts, but don't think that matters much for this piece, as I think it was more theraputic for you to write this.

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