Friday's 100 words
...are in my new 100 words blog
, where the rest of my entries will be.
thursday's 100 words
Woke up at 9.
Observed huge pile of dirty dishes. Observed absence of need to talk about shit. Cancelled shrink appointment to stay home and wash dishes.
Drank coffee. Ate bagel. Cleaned up.
Listened to young woman scream into her cell phone on bus. “I hold your business! Why you can’t hold my business? NO, WHY YOU CAN’T HOLD MY BUSINESS?”
Got hair cut by Glory. “This is my favorite customer.”
Bought small pot of African violets.
Went to gym. Had ID picture taken. Left.
Bought 2 Krispy Kreme donuts.
Watched Judge Judy. Ate donuts. Berated self.
oh lawdy lawd
I usually don't just link and run, but DAMN this shit
That is all.
another 100 words
This is yesterday's batch. Hmm. Maybe I should set up another blog for this if it's gonna be a daily thing.
I could hear him next door in the bedroom, springs creaking, sheets moving, bedspread being arranged, his patented, self-satisfied little post-sex grunts and exhales – the sounds of him waiting for me to return. I patted my chest dry with the old purple towel and reached up to tug the chain to turn the light off, walked around the corner in my bare feet to where he was cozy in my bed waiting for me. As I stood there in the doorway, he looked at me, whispered "you look beautiful" and and I wished so badly that it mattered to me.
I'm starting this
today. Wish me luck!
On a hot June night, I swept out the revolving doors of Seven World Trade Center, my long, brown cotton Gap dress showing off my cleavage and hugging my ass in a way that was actually acceptable to me. Marissa was outside waiting for her husband. I was thrilled to have someone to talk to, to not have to just stand there, out in the open like willing prey, knowing he could see me but I couldn’t see him. A moment later, I noticed a pretty, pudgy Asian guy slithering shyly around the mirrored kiosk. That was when we met.
100 words exactly, baby! Boo ya!
Sunday night, Harry's Burritos
Zack: What is that
Susan: It's my change purse.
Zack: What the hell happened to it?
Susan: It just got a little fucked up. But it's gold lame
! And it was only 5 bucks! Gold lame
, man! Feel it!
Zack: (takes item in hand) This change purse looks like a 40 year old whore who's been working the corner for 25 years, isn't earning like she used to, and just got beat up by her pimp.
Susan: Well, yeah.
Susan: But I still love her.
*** end scene***
PS: I just put in a new commenting system (thank you, Dan!), so if your comment is gone, I did read it. I just couldn't migrate them to the new place.
Thank you. Good night. Drive safely.