Are you kidding me? Again?
He slammed down the phone and threw his anger management squeeze ball across the room. In horror he saw it clip his AVN award, sending it to the ground with a crash of glass on oak flooring.
Monica rushed into the room with wide eyes and a worried expression. She had arranged for the anger management class on order from corporate and feared the investment had been wasted.
What’s wrong boss?
He looked up. Her adrenalin was running high and it made her cheeks flush and her eye’s glistened like a gazelle who just heard the cheetah’s growl.
Anderson’s hopeless. He’s hung over and he’s out of Viagra so he bailed out on today’s shoot and Angie’s already on set next door. We have to cancel.
He looked up as her jacket, blouse, and then silken bra hit the floor.
We don’t have to cancel anything, Angie and I have been rehearsing for weeks.
She couldn’t breathe, think, move.
“What’s wrong?” Even her voice was perfect, alien, out of context, dizzying.
“I’m…” her voice caught, and her legs shook under her long skirt. Three quick in-gasps and she was hyperventilating and the room swirled. She saw her leaping towards her and then it was black.
She came to and felt the comforter over her shoulders. Embarrassed, she looked around the room and saw her new friend sleeping on the divan near the window. She cleared her throat, Melisa awoke.
“Some first date, eh?” she wiped away a surprise tear, then another, “I was hoping for so much more, I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”
Melisa slid to the floor and approached on hands and knees, discarding her robe. Her warm hands slid under the covers and around her waist and pulled her to the edge of the bed and into an embrace. With a simple kiss, she whispered, “There is always hope.”
And she was right.
And she was right.
Two takes on a beautiful picture. Thanks to Pasnserbjorne (or is it "The Panserbjorn"? Is it a name or title?) for putting things together. It's good to get back to writing on a budget. Both ended up at 160 words exactly, but #2 started off at just under 200 words. I forget how verbose I get when I'm not on a literary leash.
I hope you take time to go to those who found time to write. Give them some love.
And, if you are LA today, drop by the library, I'll be there until 3 doing homework.