*Today

*DLS #1

*With these hands!

*The moon blocks the sun making day into night

*Just got off the phone with her

*Wow

*Is it just me....

*I checked... I asked

*The room is only twenty-five

*Time to break up all this serious crap


1. I ask you to do one effing thing
2. Did you?
3. The socks betray him
4. There will be none of that
5. Leave notes in his shirt pocket
6. Trained in the gentle art
7. Put me in coach
8. Our species may, in fact, survive
9.Swarm Swarm
10.During the wooing
11.BUT not private enough
12.The bottomless appetite
13.The first time we forget
14.This is a nice litmus test
15.To get the ball rolling
16.She invited you back to her place for coffee
17.Mary Magdalene or Eva Braun
18.It will only smell and make you queasy


   Tuesday, July 05, 2005

She lumped tomatoes

She stroks the petals of the daisy carefully so not to pull one out. Immediately she remembers the childhood "he loves me, he loves me not" ritual. A smirk emerges from the corner of her mouth stretching her lips far enough to catch the salty tear as it runs down her cheek.

"Fuck him."

Wiping the tear away she can't gather the nerve to toss the flower to the ground.

"How the hell could he do this to me?"

She is sitting with her feet close and her legs tucked in front of her. She rests her chin back on her knees. Normally a day like this in a city like Chicago would have her walking with him through the park. He would blush as she caught him checking out the view from the neckline of her tank top. She would have a book like "The Prophet" and he would have a magazine like "Sports Illustrated". He would have the ratty green towel over his shoulder so they could sit on the ground without getting too dirty.

Her knees support her chin and she gets lost in the soft center of the flower. "Are daisies weeds?" She says it out loud and half expects him to answer. He knew all that science shit. He loved to correct her when she lumped tomatoes with vegetables or called a whale a 'big fish'. Then it was annoying and made her feel stupid. The thought of it now makes it hurt that much more.

"Fuck you..." she says clearly and a bit louder than she expected (half-wanting him to hear).

[want more? Here is part II]

there are 7 doodles

At 4:25 PM, Blogger Lisa said...

I was hooked after the first paragraph.

 
At 4:26 PM, Blogger WordWhiz said...

Well...naturally a post on the subject of those annoying, heart-breaking male types would bring a comment from ME!!

My ex was a PhD - a college professor. Being corrected on a regular basis for comments such as the examples you gave was a daily occurrence. It's funny to be involved with his love life now from the position of an objective observer. After years of wishing each other dead, we're friendly now. (You can be friends with almost anyone you don't have to LIVE with!) I hear about all his dates, his joys and disappointments. I'm flattered by the fact that he chooses who to date based ENTIRELY on looks. Correction: looks and a college education. I guess he wants to minimize that fact-correcting to a manageable level. He determines (I'm not kidding, he's said this word-for-word) if he can fall in love with a woman's face. That's what matters. He figures everything else is negotiable. I spent years complaining that he never loved me; I was merely there when he decided he was ready to get married and he assumed he could force me to fit his predetermined mold. Seems most women aren't especially patient with a guy who wants to turn them into someone else. Imagine that!

Gosh...what a rant. Sorry! I had a very nice weekend with DP. He doesn't seem to want to change me. I'm driving him into a nicotine-deprived hell, but he's not complaining...yet!

 
At 9:19 PM, Blogger You Can't Afford Me said...

loved it!

 
At 7:45 AM, Blogger deanne said...

Continue please!

 
At 8:11 AM, Blogger bornfool said...

Nice work. Definitely continue.

 
At 2:55 PM, Blogger Jamie said...

More!

 
At 3:25 PM, Blogger Serra said...

Hof, you're a despicable tease.

I will take the above statement back when you continue the story.

 

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