Maria's Prugatorio
I am writing a short story about a young girl in search of meaning
here is a couple of first paragraphs
A pasty sweat covered Maria's slender body, like a think layer of warm cellophane, stifling her pores. It was the middle of summer in Fresno and the August heat always smothers Valley residents into a drugged-like stupor. In May the air conditioner in her studio apartment began to blow out only hot air. Although Maria complained several times to her fat pimply face landlord, her pleas had gone unresolved.
Frank, the landlord, had repulsed the young woman since the first day she met him. He was a very fat man and he stunk. The smell was a pungent blend of oily hair and a stench that comes from being obese and wearing the same underwear for weeks at a time. His waist was a size 48. There were always grease stains on his white button-up shirts and dandruff flakes on the collars. When he walked he made unintelligible noises like a pig grunting, but not as loud, as if he were trying to conceal the fact that his fat body was having trouble actually moving around. His fly was always half down; this could be because his corpulent waist pushed the zipper down half way, or as Maria thought, hes simply a fat perv. Perhaps it was both. His face was wide with broad set eyes and a large forehead. Thick lips protruded from his face like a grouper fish and the sides were always wet; their wetness added to a very unpleasant aspect of having a conversation with him he seemed to be smacking his words as if he were eating. The few times he came to the complex over the last year and a half since Maria had been living in the studio, his bulbous eyes made here want to slit his throat. That damn bastard is staring at me again, she thought to herself once when she had to walk down the long dank corridor to her mail. Frank was adding paint to the wall molding. She caught him trying to catch a peek up her shorts. His fat lips quivered a nervous grin when he realized hed been noticed. Maria thought later that it was a perfect situation to lay her Doc Martin boot right into his large jowls. She giggled out loud on her bed at the thought of him squealing like a pig and groveling before her.
During the heat waves at the height of summer, when temperatures regularly reach up to 110 degrees, there is no need for an alarm clock. The suns rays shining through the thin cracks between the shutters burned like hundreds of laser beams cooking her skin. By 6:15 AM she was usually fully-cooked and wet with sweat. Sleeping in, even on her off days were unpleasant and out of the question.
Maria slept with a pillow muffled between her thighs and one clenched under her head, as if she were holding a passionate lover in her dreamscape world. Holding these pillows gave her comfort and security in her dirty, cramped and musty apartment. Above her bed hung a poster of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Lipstick stains were stamped all around the base of the image, where Maria placed her lips every time she went out to the clubs. The walls were yellowish, but were supposed to be white. Cobwebs dangled in the corners of the room. At various places chunks of paint had peeled away, exposing a faint avocado green color that was probably put on in the 1960s. Next to Marias bed was a small wooden night table with two antique crystal knobs. Inside its one drawer she kept her cigarettes Marlboro Blend 27 extra coins for the laundry room, and condoms. Cigarettes because they squash hunger, but also are able to quell nervousness caused by guilt and shame; condoms because she never knew who might come home with her from the clubs down the street. Atop the table were a cell phone, a little black book with friends numbers, an ashtray overflowing with spent buts and a thrift-store-bought Bible; its frayed pages were turned to the 20th chapter verse 9, which read,
9They marched across the breadth of the earth and surrounded the camp of God's people, the city he loves. But fire came down from heaven and devoured them. 10And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever.
I am writing a short story about a young girl in search of meaning
here is a couple of first paragraphs
A pasty sweat covered Maria's slender body, like a think layer of warm cellophane, stifling her pores. It was the middle of summer in Fresno and the August heat always smothers Valley residents into a drugged-like stupor. In May the air conditioner in her studio apartment began to blow out only hot air. Although Maria complained several times to her fat pimply face landlord, her pleas had gone unresolved.
Frank, the landlord, had repulsed the young woman since the first day she met him. He was a very fat man and he stunk. The smell was a pungent blend of oily hair and a stench that comes from being obese and wearing the same underwear for weeks at a time. His waist was a size 48. There were always grease stains on his white button-up shirts and dandruff flakes on the collars. When he walked he made unintelligible noises like a pig grunting, but not as loud, as if he were trying to conceal the fact that his fat body was having trouble actually moving around. His fly was always half down; this could be because his corpulent waist pushed the zipper down half way, or as Maria thought, hes simply a fat perv. Perhaps it was both. His face was wide with broad set eyes and a large forehead. Thick lips protruded from his face like a grouper fish and the sides were always wet; their wetness added to a very unpleasant aspect of having a conversation with him he seemed to be smacking his words as if he were eating. The few times he came to the complex over the last year and a half since Maria had been living in the studio, his bulbous eyes made here want to slit his throat. That damn bastard is staring at me again, she thought to herself once when she had to walk down the long dank corridor to her mail. Frank was adding paint to the wall molding. She caught him trying to catch a peek up her shorts. His fat lips quivered a nervous grin when he realized hed been noticed. Maria thought later that it was a perfect situation to lay her Doc Martin boot right into his large jowls. She giggled out loud on her bed at the thought of him squealing like a pig and groveling before her.
During the heat waves at the height of summer, when temperatures regularly reach up to 110 degrees, there is no need for an alarm clock. The suns rays shining through the thin cracks between the shutters burned like hundreds of laser beams cooking her skin. By 6:15 AM she was usually fully-cooked and wet with sweat. Sleeping in, even on her off days were unpleasant and out of the question.
Maria slept with a pillow muffled between her thighs and one clenched under her head, as if she were holding a passionate lover in her dreamscape world. Holding these pillows gave her comfort and security in her dirty, cramped and musty apartment. Above her bed hung a poster of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Lipstick stains were stamped all around the base of the image, where Maria placed her lips every time she went out to the clubs. The walls were yellowish, but were supposed to be white. Cobwebs dangled in the corners of the room. At various places chunks of paint had peeled away, exposing a faint avocado green color that was probably put on in the 1960s. Next to Marias bed was a small wooden night table with two antique crystal knobs. Inside its one drawer she kept her cigarettes Marlboro Blend 27 extra coins for the laundry room, and condoms. Cigarettes because they squash hunger, but also are able to quell nervousness caused by guilt and shame; condoms because she never knew who might come home with her from the clubs down the street. Atop the table were a cell phone, a little black book with friends numbers, an ashtray overflowing with spent buts and a thrift-store-bought Bible; its frayed pages were turned to the 20th chapter verse 9, which read,
9They marched across the breadth of the earth and surrounded the camp of God's people, the city he loves. But fire came down from heaven and devoured them. 10And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
i cant wait to see it!