*Note: All entries on Ficlets, including mine, are posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License. All unattributed writing is by me. All otherwise-attributed writing is [sic].
Roommate Tactics
Cheryl knew she shouldn’t be there, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dresser or her hand away from her mouth. Not even when she heard movement behind her.
“What are you doing in Jeremy’s r—oh holy cheese on crackers, what the hell is that?”
Cheryl could only shake her head. Finally, she lowered her hand and found her voice. “Do you think it’s maybe some kind of art project?”
She looked over at Brandon, who’d come to stand next to her and looked to be having much the same reaction she’d had. “Jeremy doesn’t take any art classes. This is disturbing. I’m very disturbed.”
“Maybe he’s in an art club?”
“Maybe. Yeah. Let’s go with that.” He backed slowly toward the door, pulling her along with him. Cut off by a slamming door, they spun around.
“What are you doing in my room?”
Cheryl pointed lamely toward his alarm clock. “Your alarm went off.”
“Sorry.” Jeremy opened the door.
“Hey, cool art project,” Brandon offered.
Jeremy just stared blankly. “What art project?”
Comments: Heh, nobody commented on this one. Nobody gets me, for I am a delicate artiste.
Parking Lot Chivalry
(Inspiration: getting a flat tire on my lunch hour.)
Okay, so she’d never learned to change a tire. But she could work a can of Fix-a-flat and an air compressor and, failing that, she had AAA on speed dial. She could handle a flat and still be back at work before her afternoon shift began. No doubt about that—at least not in her mind.
So why did every guy in the parking lot come running to her aide?
Not that she wasn’t grateful, even to the one who ignored her assurances that she was on top of it and practically shoved her aside to “help.” It was kind of them, if a bit piggish, being willing put themselves out for her; they probably had jobs to get back to, same as she did. She appreciated that.
Still.
She wasn’t a bombshell. She was more than a few pounds overweight and pushing middle age. So, what? Did she project incompetence or, even worse, helplessness? What did these guys want?
Her “hero” didn’t even wait around to be thanked. Chauvinism and chivalry were hard to tell apart sometimes.
She drove back to work on full tires and altered perceptions.
# Valley Fey/Pinprick
Posted about 1 year ago
5.0 out of 5 stars
Wow, I really like this. It made me giggle for some reason.
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Parking Lot Chivalry
JMBauhaus’ Buddy Icon JMBauhaus
Posted about 1 year ago
Thanks!
Guess who got a flat tire today?
Orange Salvation
She missed oranges most of all. That sweet burst of liquid sunshine exploding in her mouth and dripping down her chin, licking her fingers, sticky from peeling the rind… she could maybe deal better with the absence of actual sunlight if she could only keep oranges around. Oranges, she knew, were the key to her sanity. Everything else – the colorless cold constancy she faced – could be endured. Just one orange. The color, the fruit, the scent, a shot of Cointreau. A glimpse of sunrise. Her mother’s fiery hair.
Fire. That was orange. She cried, knowing that she would never see it; but then she smiled, knowing it would be the last thing those sons of bitches outside ever saw, as she released the grenade.
# flute faerie
Posted 9 months ago
Whoa, totally wasn’t expecting that last part. I like how the story went from an orange, to hair, to a grenade. That was cool.
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Orange Salvation
kells’ Buddy Icon kells
Posted 9 months ago
Wow, that last paragraph really was a twist! I had begun to imagine something along the lines that she had been kidnapped/imprisoned…what a surprise!
The imagery is wonderful, though – gorgeous descriptions, and the metaphors and all that are fantastic.
I’d love to read some sort of backstory on this =)
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Orange Salvation
THX 0477’s Buddy Icon THX 0477
Posted 9 months ago
I liked the quick shift from thoughtful to throwing a grenade with a little stream-of-consciousness transition in the middle.
LoA
The first one I got 😀 Initially, I thought they were the parents, but “Roommate Tactics” would indicate roommates. And if it is just a tactic to keep them away from going through his things for fear of what else they might find or from someone so “whacked out” doing something in retaliation, well, then it’s a pretty damn good one. I liked it 😀
Hee! My husband collects ideas for whacked out things to do if we ever end up with a roommate, either to keep them from getting too familiar or to scare them right the hell away if they turn out to be too much of a pain in the hinder.