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Posts Tagged ‘NaNoWriMo’

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 33,521

“Lila was in her underwear?” Elizabeth asked, confused. She fiddled with one of her barrettes.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t hear about it,” Winston said. “She actually asked this one to marry her!”

Elizabeth turned to Bruce, the tears overflowing down her cheeks. “Is that true?” she asked.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to get all clingy now that we’ve had lots of mind-blowing sex,” Bruce said in a warning tone. Not cool, bro

10

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 31,103

“Marshall the fifth?” Jessica said into the phone, trying to put on her most sultry voice. “I mean, Stan? It’s me, Elizabeth Wakefield.”

“Elizabeth?” he asked slowly, as if he were trying to place where he remembered her from.

“Yes, Elizabeth,” Jessica said, annoyed, before she remembered that Elizabeth would never take such a tone with anyone, let alone an old man. She cleared her throat and started over, more sweetly this time. “I mean, yes, it’s me, Elizabeth.”

“I don’t—”

“Threesome. Blonde twins. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean,” Jessica fired off rapidly. “Crying after every orgasm.” Elizabeth’s Great Idea

08

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 30,225

Lila leaned against her lime green BMW, examining her perfectly polished nails. She sighed loudly. She had been waiting in the parking lot of the Patman Canning factory since sunrise, getting up extra early to make a special effort on her appearance and to have Lucinda change Marshall.

I wonder when he’s going to bother to show up, Lila mused, reaching into her authentic Prada purse for her sunglasses and slipping them on. It looks like the underlings are showing up for work on the — ugh — assembly line. She shuddered as beat-up Hondas and Fords pulled into the parking lot, carrying their owners to another grueling day of work.

After what seemed like hours, they were followed by a vintage black Porsche, squealing into the parking lot as it took the turn a little too fast. Lila straightened up and pulled down the neckline of her minidress so it showed off an ample amount of cleavage. If there was one thing Bruce couldn’t resist, it was a nice set of tits, Lila remembered. They look like two bald toddlers butting heads with each other, she thought, looking down at her breasts. Perfect! Nice rack

07

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 28,616

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Bruce is coming to pick you up?”

Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I’m working at Patman Canning now,” she said. “And I’m sleeping with him.”

“You’re doing what?” Todd exclaimed, a look of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced with a look of anger.

“I’m sleeping with him,” Elizabeth said. “You know, fucking.”

“But — but I thought you hated sex,” Todd sputtered. “You cried after every orgasm.” A loving act between two consenting adults

06

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 27,323

“Whatever,” Enid said, wrapping her arms around her chest. She was starting to get the shakes, a sure sign her latest hit was wearing off.

“Don’t you get it? Two children were found in a car in this parking lot — two little girls,” Amy said. “Enid, you left two small children in a car — by themselves — for god knows how long.”

“Oh, look at me: ‘I’m Amy Sutton, unlikely voice of reason,’” Enid mocked, flailing her arms in the air and waving around an imaginary microphone, which she then pretended to talk into. “‘Coming to you live from let’s fuck over Enid Rollins because I’m so stuck up because I volunteered for some stupid teen hotline, I’m Amy, blah blah blah.’” Drug bust, oh yeah

05

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 26,076

“Jessica? Jessica?”

Someone was shaking her awake. Jessica sat up with a start, for one terrifying moment believing the Sweet Valley date rapist had broken into her home. She lashed out, slapping at the person in front of her.

“Ouch, Jess, stop it!” Elizabeth cried, flinching and pulling back.

Jessica’s eyes focused in the dim light and fixated on her twin. She noticed Elizabeth’s cheeks were wet with tears.  “Oh, Liz, it’s just you,” she mumbled sleepily. “Can you make me a grilled cheese?” Bitch in the kitchen

09

03 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 24,358

Bruce looked over at the clock on his nightstand. Elizabeth had been crying for the last 20 minutes. Awkward, he thought. I know I’m good, but she needs to calm the fuck down.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, trying to drown out the image of Elizabeth sobbing. He hoped the servants hadn’t heard her crying — it was perfectly fine that they had heard the moans of passion he had drawn from Elizabeth’s lips, but he had a reputation to uphold. And a crying bitch did nothing for his repuation.

“Do you do this every time?” he asked in a bored tone, staring up at the ceiling.

Elizabeth sniffled. “Y- yes,” she stammered. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“Yeah, not interested,” Bruce said coolly, sitting up and covering his enormous package with the bedsheet. “I just want to know if I can expect the same thing next time.” Enormous. Riiiiiiiiiiiight.

08

03 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 22,739

“Well then,” Bruce said, coming up behind Elizabeth and placing his hands on her waist, “looks like it’s just you and me.”

Elizabeth nodded, her body stiffening at Bruce’s touch. “Uh, Bruce, I hate to ruin the moment and everything, but is that — is that a can of peaches in your pocket, or—”

“No,” he said, his voice low with desire. “No, it’s not a can of peaches.”

Tears began to roll down Elizabeth’s cheeks as her body was racked with uncontrollable sobs. Stripper fight!

07

03 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 21,283

“Winston!” Elizabeth exclaimed, rushing over to her old friend and giving him a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

Winston pried himself out of Elizabeth’s grip and continued to mix powdered creamer into his coffee. It’s too early for this shit, he thought. And what the fuck is she wearing? A powder blue linen suit? Bruce doesn’t even wear suits to work!

“Uh, hey, Elizabeth,” he mumbled, stirring the coffee. “Guess we’re co-workers now, huh?”

“I know!” Elizabeth squealed. “It’s so exciting! I’m just so happy to be working with my best friends!” OMG besties!!

06

03 2011

Post-coital tristesse — Word Count: 19,572

As the man got into the car, Enid again looked at his face, this time, recognition dawning on her. “Oh, I know you!” she said, giggling.

The man smiled at Enid as he reached behind her seat and pulled out a paper cup and a bottle of wine. He poured the wine into the paper cup and added a small pill. “The wine is a 1945 Merlot. The date rape drug is a 1995 roofie,” he said, handing her the cup. “It was an excellent year.”

Enid accepted the cup and pounded back the wine. “You’re Bruce Patman,” she said, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

“Something like that,” he said, turning the key in the ignition as Enid slipped into darkness. Crackies everywhere

06

01 2011