I'm going to try something on here. I'm going to post bits of a story I am working on, and see how many comments I get. If I get comments, I will keep posting more of the story.
Hell never be the same again, she thought. He will carry this burden for the rest of his life. He has done something irrevocably undeniably despicable.
The blood pooled on the white satin sheets. Salty bits of sea air caressed the powder blue curtains, asking them to billow ever so slightly. The rising sun explained the beginning of a new day, and asked the stillness in the room to come to life. The room did not comply; there was nothing left to listen. An open window which the previous night had been closed gave a subtle indication of anything being amiss.
The assault came swift as a thief in the night, a blow of massive proportions. Swift and succinct as a butchers cleaver in the joint of a cloven beast.
She had lived in Arkansas all of her life, in a small, quiet town where everyone knew everyone and most everyone fucked everyone else. Mary could no longer stand to live in such a place. She had long dreamed of seeing the beauty of the seashore, to sit with the grit of sand invading her most private of parts, to taste the salt in the air, to listen to the seagulls as they strove in ever increasing circular fashions to attain some small bit of french fried potato for sustenance. The smell of seagull shit would have fascinated her, she supposed, much more interesting than the aromas of the porcine outhouses with which she had grown so familiar. She supposed it would smell somewhat fishier, perhaps a bit softer than, and not quite as thick as, that of the birds around her small town.
She chanced to meet a man one particularly hot day named Dick Slade. Sunlight beat down even the happiest of the chickens in the yard that day, making them pant, as chickens are want to do when it becomes ever so disgustingly hot as it was on this blistering Dick Slade Day.
Hello, my dear child, Slade said to Mary as Mary looked at Slade who approached her from the dirt road which Marys house abutted.
Hey there, mister, Mary said to Slade who looked at Mary while she looked back at him.
Do you suppose that you have the full intention of standing in that pig sty all the day long? It is blistering hot, do you know? Slade asked Mary.
I reckon it is a might bit hot today, mister. I got work ta do, though. I gotta git all these pigs fed by the time pa gits home from work. Mary said to Slade. His sharply hooked nose, his small black eyes, thin lips, tightly trimmed moustache, three piece powder blue suit and bowler, along with soft patent leather shoes were all new sights to Mary.
I believe, my dear child, that it is more than a might hot. Would you like a cold drink of water? I happen to have a jug on ice in my car, you understand? I tend to keep conveniences such as this on my person at all times. One never knows when one will chance to meet a lovely creature such as yourself; in such obvious discomfort, who will undoubtedly benefit from some small comfort such as a cool drink of iced water. Very refreshing, indeed! Slade said to Mary. Her slowly heaving bosom, her soft, pale features, strong hands, great wide hips, flashing green eyes, these were not new sights to Slade.
Hell never be the same again, she thought. He will carry this burden for the rest of his life. He has done something irrevocably undeniably despicable.
The blood pooled on the white satin sheets. Salty bits of sea air caressed the powder blue curtains, asking them to billow ever so slightly. The rising sun explained the beginning of a new day, and asked the stillness in the room to come to life. The room did not comply; there was nothing left to listen. An open window which the previous night had been closed gave a subtle indication of anything being amiss.
The assault came swift as a thief in the night, a blow of massive proportions. Swift and succinct as a butchers cleaver in the joint of a cloven beast.
She had lived in Arkansas all of her life, in a small, quiet town where everyone knew everyone and most everyone fucked everyone else. Mary could no longer stand to live in such a place. She had long dreamed of seeing the beauty of the seashore, to sit with the grit of sand invading her most private of parts, to taste the salt in the air, to listen to the seagulls as they strove in ever increasing circular fashions to attain some small bit of french fried potato for sustenance. The smell of seagull shit would have fascinated her, she supposed, much more interesting than the aromas of the porcine outhouses with which she had grown so familiar. She supposed it would smell somewhat fishier, perhaps a bit softer than, and not quite as thick as, that of the birds around her small town.
She chanced to meet a man one particularly hot day named Dick Slade. Sunlight beat down even the happiest of the chickens in the yard that day, making them pant, as chickens are want to do when it becomes ever so disgustingly hot as it was on this blistering Dick Slade Day.
Hello, my dear child, Slade said to Mary as Mary looked at Slade who approached her from the dirt road which Marys house abutted.
Hey there, mister, Mary said to Slade who looked at Mary while she looked back at him.
Do you suppose that you have the full intention of standing in that pig sty all the day long? It is blistering hot, do you know? Slade asked Mary.
I reckon it is a might bit hot today, mister. I got work ta do, though. I gotta git all these pigs fed by the time pa gits home from work. Mary said to Slade. His sharply hooked nose, his small black eyes, thin lips, tightly trimmed moustache, three piece powder blue suit and bowler, along with soft patent leather shoes were all new sights to Mary.
I believe, my dear child, that it is more than a might hot. Would you like a cold drink of water? I happen to have a jug on ice in my car, you understand? I tend to keep conveniences such as this on my person at all times. One never knows when one will chance to meet a lovely creature such as yourself; in such obvious discomfort, who will undoubtedly benefit from some small comfort such as a cool drink of iced water. Very refreshing, indeed! Slade said to Mary. Her slowly heaving bosom, her soft, pale features, strong hands, great wide hips, flashing green eyes, these were not new sights to Slade.