Won Ton Woman
I first felt the hand pressing on my leg as I twirled the spoon around the bowl of hot won ton soup. Why did she have to dig her fingers so hard into my skin though
? "though" isn't really necessary. The mere touch of her hand would have been sufficient enough to get my attention.
I glanced across the table at my friend Sal. He was too busy to notice anything, his pearly whites pummeling a helpless sparerib.
vivid image, hehe Sitting beside him, his girlfriend Maria was also working her mouth, her plate of fried rice and orange chicken down to a few
"a few" sounds off...the few? last forkfuls. She too was clueless.
In a way, the hungry couple was responsible for the hand on my leg. Earlier in the evening,
the couple don't repeat, "they" instead asked me to accompany them, along with a friend of Maria’s (I’ll just call her the Won Ton woman
)why? why doesn't the narrator tell us her name?, to a Chinatown restaurant. I agreed to go eat with them, but had no idea that I would be listed on the menu
—omit as Won Ton's dessert.
I think Won Ton had expected me to take hold of her hand and guide it up my leg myself. But, because I didn’t
make any attempt to do it omit, she must have
grown tired of my disregarding it and omit decided to let it travel without my assistance. Slowly but steadily, Won Ton’s hand began crawling up my leg, with its final destination getting closer and closer.
Her deep blue eyes, her short blonde hair, and her angelic face could have sent any man into a frenzy, yet
yet implies contradiction..say and instead she must have thought I was crazy to be ignoring her advances. "Why is this fool not escorting my hand the rest of the way? Why is he making me do the job alone
?" I could hear her thinking.
By now, she must have felt my entire body stiffen up.
She must have realized that I was shocked by her actions and that I wanted no part of her plans for having me as her dessert. a little mechanical-sounding Her hand grasping its target, I went right on sipping my won ton soup
bad grammar. "Her hand grasped its target, but I.." would be better without paying her (or it) much attention. Once again, her thinking caught my ear: “This guy is definitely a clown.”
I
managed to force
d myself to gaze at her.
wordy, omit underlined She was an absolute beauty. I caught a whiff of her perfume; the enticing fragrance nearly plunged my hand beneath the table, scurrying after hers. Luckily,
my the ? won ton soup tasted delicious. It helped me shake off the temptation.
Finally, thank God, she surrendered. I felt the hand slowly moving downward, her fingertips scraping against my jeans. After the delayed retreat, which must have been humiliating, she abandoned all traces of her burning desire for me. For the remainder of the night, I got nothing but cold stares.
The next day I passed her in the street. She was standing on a corner,
glowing like a goddess,
a little cliche with her arm draped over the shoulder of her boyfriend. When she noticed me, she tried to tease me by snuggling up to him. As I walked away from both of them, a part of me wanted to tell him he was being used.
But, I didn’t say a word. I knew telling him would only ruin our friendship.
oooh, I wasn't expecting a twist at the end. I liked it
You tend to be a little wordy in places. I tried to point out some of them (don't worry, I'm wordy too
). The last line is effective as it is, but it could be tighter and (even though it's already is) even MORE to the point. Other than that, a few grammar errors, and a couple cliches, it was an enjoyable read. Good job.
