My room

My room
“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” Virginia Woolf

Monday, September 1, 2014

More

I don't just like writing about the bad things. So here's a little erotica to finish off your Monday. 

This one, however, got a little away from me as I was writing it. Started out as Library, and turned into an erotic ode to Poe. 

Quoth the Raven, oh well, you know. 

(WARNING: Sexually explicit material below and not for children under 18 years of age)

Saturday, August 30, 2014

A City of Strangers (AKA Enter Todd)

I was homesick. Worse: I was desperate for human interaction.

I settled into my new department and tried to focus on making money. I had my work cut out for me. While it was a new department, it was still, for the most part, the same entitled customer and there were more associates on this sales floor. Gabby gave me a quick training on my first day. She was due to go on vacation and wasn't able to spend as much time with me, but I knew the routine.

I was deeper in the red than I wanted to admit. I had to cash out some of my rewards points from different credit cards for money to eat. Because I had stopped paying a Citi Bank credit card that I could no longer make the minimum payments on, Sears, which is also owned by Citi, canceled my credit once it expired. I was two months overdue on my car payments and worried that I would have to turn it into the bank. Plus, I'm sure I was going through some sort of PTSD from having to fight so hard with Nicole to keep my job. I was exhausted. I was sad.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Untitled

What do you do when you're happy? 
I write. 
What do you do when you're sad? 
I write some more. 

In the end, it was I who broke things, I who walked away and refused to stay for the both of us, refused to play along hoping the other would break instead of, finally, for once, admitting it was over.

Until then we tried everything but telling each other the truth. You grew your hair long even though I hated it. Smoked tobacco behind my back only to turn around and kiss me with a mouthful of stale and slick saliva tainted with nicotine and shame.

And then denied it.