Fahckmylife's Blog
Crap adult, OK human.

PART OF A BIGGER PICTURE…. Part of a new shortie…

I haven’t written ANYTHING in ages, so the other day instead of doing more productive things I started this story off.  Don’t be fooled – it’s not a stupid romance thing ….. UGH!   Anyway it’s going to go all horror and speculative fiction but here’s the starting point.  Constructive criticism welcome, but please consider that I haven’t written in ages….


The navy sky was tinged with grey around the edges; unusual but impossible to pinpoint exactly how. Outside was still – almost silent with no movement on the streets below. She smoked her cigarette staring out the window, dim light illuminating her naked curves, half drunk, the unease rising in her gut.

She smirked and began wondering about the idea of an analogy of a cliché that was unbelievably meta.

A voice beckoned her from the shadows behind to return to bed. Defiantly she cocked her head to the side and turned on her heels.

‘No…’ she sighed flatly, ‘I think you should leave.’

Her voice was flat, lifeless and unfaltering despite her fuzzy head.

She could hear him pull himself up into a sitting position.

Was that shock?

‘But you said I could stay?’ the voice trailed an octave higher than usual.

She ambled closer, standing on some building blocks along the way and casually threw his jeans in the direction of the dark corner of the room.

‘Yeah, I know’ she said stretching. ‘But I just realised that I’ve all this shit to do tomorrow. My parents are dropping the kid up early tomorrow morning. You can’t be here.’

At least part of this was true. The kid was coming up tomorrow, but at lunch time. Also, she didn’t have any ‘shit to do’.

She could hear him ruffle on the jeans and imagined the pale lines of his body. Comforting for a time but their purpose had been served. Everything else was superfluous.

‘Really?’ he mumbled, continuing to dress. His hand reached down the side of the bed to get his t-shirt.

Talking was pointless, especially when everything she could say or feel had already been done before. In those warm comforting contorted naked moments the only thing existed were feelings – base and raw and real – and everything else was decorative and unnecessary – because everything else was bullshit.

‘Who are you kidding?’ she smiled. ‘Don’t dress this up to be something that it isn’t?’

His face slowly emerged from the shadows – dark circles under dark eyes and dark hair everywhere – difficult to tell where the darkness ended and he began. He mumbled something unintelligible, or rather uttered a noise that denoted discontent. How can a sigh sound angry?

She returned to her position of gazing out the window. Outside was growing darker and the feeling of unease found its way back into her. Still nobody on the street below and minimal traffic. She topped up her previous drink that sat on the window ledge (gin that had been opened within five minutes of her daughter’s collection – she was naked within two), exhaled some smoke through her nostrils and pressed the cold edges to her lips. Something bad, something dreadful reaching its tendrils up from the pit of her stomach. Something so unquantifiable that anything was possible…

‘I guess I’ll see you soon’ he mumbled, which snapped her back into the room.

Was that a question or a statement?

She didn’t turn back to face him. Either he cared and would look morose or hopeful or he wouldn’t. Either way it was bullshit and too much effort. All part of some farcical dance that she didn’t give enough of a crap about to want to be part of.

‘Sure…’ she trailed absorbed again in the nagging feeling of impending doom. ‘Let yourself out, yeah?’



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