Last night, as Day 6 of NaBloWriMo was coming to a speedy end, I was getting desperate. My muse had taken a long walk off a short pier. So I decided to crowd source my writing woes, and begged my Facebook friends to share some writing prompts on my Timeline. Several of them came through, all of them amusing or creative or fun, or all of the above. After much laughter and frivolity on that thread, I decided to use all of the prompts in one short story. It’s probably pretty awful. And it might not amuse anyone who didn’t participate in that FB thread. And I’ve “cheated” to create two days worth of posts by splitting up the story. But here it is, my Day 7 entry.
The prompts were the following:
-the government is shut down but all I can think about is fitting into my skinny jeans.
-She had pink braided pigtails
-It was a dark and stormy night….. (haha)
-But why did she have so much potential?
-She won a backstage pass
-The secret was buried deep in the salt mines of Chile….
-I was swept away by friends this afternoon
-She had never really liked that hat anyway
-For the first time in a longtime he paused and carefully considered the condition of his toenails…
-He awoke to find a red-assed baboon perched on his dresser, smoking one of his cigars and eating peanuts. Right away he knew this was not going to be an ordinary day
(read Part One here)
Gah! So much sunshine in my eyes. It’s too much work to open them, anyway. My head is pounding. And I can’t move my legs. What the hell? They’re pinned down. I go to stretch my arms, and whack my hand into something. It’s a head. Who’s head? I feel around. These arms have muscular biceps, so they sure aren’t mine. This abdomen? Nope, not mine either. This face? These lips? I trace my fingers along the lips. Mmm… yummy! They twitch into a smile. I carefully, slowly open one eye. Omigod, it’s Ed. I peek under the sheet to do a clothing check. We’re both still in underwear. That’s good, right? Because if we were gonna finally get together, I’d rather remember it. I carefully look around. We’re at my place. How did we get here? Oh, right, Dana drove us home. Ed’s leg is tossed over mine. Ah, that explains why I can’t move them. He is warm, and who knew he’d be a cuddler? Hey, we don’t have to go to work today, the government shut down! Woohoo! I lean back into the pillows and try to go back to sleep. When Ed’s awake later, maybe we can do something about getting rid of the rest of these clothes.
Gah! So much sunshine in my eyes. I think I’ll wait to open them. My head is throbbing. My toe nails are a little scratchy. But what’s wrapped around me? Legs and arms and under my chin is very silky hair. It smells amazing. What? Legs and arms? Silky hair? My eyes flip open. I look around. I’m not in my room. And the sun is really bright. The clock says 6:30 am. I look down, past the silky hair and omigod, it’s Celia. She’s still asleep, and she’s beautiful. Did we…? How could I not remember? Wait, let’s see – my hands feel their way down our bodies, and thank god, we’re in underwear. Judging from my reaction (heh), when she wakes up, we’ll have to rectify the waking up semi-dressed situation.
After many hours, Celia and Ed wake up and get rid of the rest of their clothes. They decide not to look back on the years they’d spent lusting after one another, but only to look forward to many, many more mornings in each other’s arms. They are so excited, and so grateful for Dana’s help the previous evening, that after more fun, and a shower that turned into still more fun, they find themselves banging on Dana’s door. They want to take her to lunch to celebrate. She laughs, grabs her hat and jacket, finding herself swept away to the diner by her friends that afternoon.
When they get to the diner, the three friends settle into a booth. Ed and Celia are snuggled up on one side, Dana on the other bench facing them and the door. She’s happy her co-workers had finally come to their senses. She remembers the phone message she’d been waiting for last night, and is a little sad there had been no call. Ed and Celia order cheeseburgers and fries. After staring at the menu for over 10 minutes, Dana orders a veggie omelet. Why not? Shutdown or no, Ed was buying. She might as well live it up.
And then he walks in. They’d met several times in the big federal building in the city, where Dana wanted to work once the base was closed down for good. He catches her eye, and smiles. She blushes and smiles back. He joins them for lunch. After they were done, and thank Ed, he takes Dana’s hand and walks out to the street, towards the park. She is so happy, she throws her hat up into the air as though she is Mary Tyler Moore. It lands in a muddy, oil slicked puddle. Oh well, she had never really liked that hat anyway.
In Washington DC, earlier that morning:
The persistent pounding in Speaker John Boehner’s head was unbearable. “My kingdom for some tylenol!”, he moans. Apparently, Ed and Celia were not the
only ones who’d tied one on the night before. Boehner couldn’t believe the shitstorm that he’d spearheaded the previous night. Had they really shut down the government? How did they let this get so far? He awoke to find a red-assed baboon perched on his dresser, smoking one of his cigars and eating peanuts. Right away he knew this was not going to be an ordinary day.