#55 - Rotten Song

Today’s words: Song, Triumvirate, Pleasure, Fluency

Word count: 378

Completion time: 31 minutes

Summary: Different strokes for different folks

--

You sang the song I hated most with such fluency that I found it hard to breathe.

I breathed in with you at the chorus and forgot to breathe out again.

The last time I saw someone with that much pleasure in their eyes, I was giving them their third orgasm of the night and my tongue was sore.

You looked possessed with a fire that was determined to burn bright centuries after being lit.

Effortless, passionate, beautiful; the song that you made over.

Sing it louder, burn brighter, so bright that the sun might go blind looking at you, and then get brighter still.

Shroud my world in perpetual light so that when I open my eyes, all I know, all I see is your song, the song I despised before I saw the look in your eyes telling me that even the ugliest of things can become glorious.

The song you brought to life like a modern-day Frankenstien.

 I sing it in the shower sometimes but it’ll never sound as good as when it’s quivering in your throat. I want to press my lips against yours, gently slide open your mouth and borrow the song for the three minutes that it will take to sing because I want to know what it’s like to make a triumvirate speechless.

They stare at you, jaws dropped, mouths jealous that you, not them, was the one to make those sounds that only machines should be capable of.

 And as you wait for their answer, I want to know what it’s like to be standing on the edge of a cliff with a bouncy castle at the bottom because there’s no way that you’re going to break your neck.

Smile and look down, scratch that, look up. Look at them. Look what your words have done – transformed their faces with a million graces.

Look at your future, your calling, you are enthralling and everyone sane knows it.

They’ve made a decision.

Predictions.

Nerves.

Shaking.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Breathe.

Fuck.

Slowly.

 In.

Out.

Brace yourself.

It’s coming.

Right there.

They say:

“That was the worst rendition of a song I’ve ever heard.”

“Honey, you need to surround yourself with people that will tell you the truth.”

“It’s definitely a no.”

Static suspension.

I thought I could do it but I can’t

I’m essaying all night so the story will be done tomorrow instead. 

x

#54 - Forbidden Charta

Today’s words: Diversify, Example, Laniary, Charta

Word count: 615

Completion time: 1 hour

Summary: The head of a major food co-operation finds a document condemning the consumption of animals.

This could have been done so SO much better with actual facts and stuff and it does nothing for veganism but it’s essay time at uni and this was the best I could come up with right now... But hey, this is supposed to be improvised, right? And it really was!

--

“We can’t let anyone see this,” the head of the food company whispered, looking over the charta that her assistant had found tucked away in the archived section of the building. “Why was this even here? Destroy it, immediately,” she handed it to the perplexed-looking assistant, pressing it into his palm like he was a baby likely to drop it, “and if you find any more of its kind, dispose of them in the same manner, do I make myself clear?”

“This is an extraordinary revelation, though,” the assistant protested, staring at the tattered parchment like it had come straight from another planet. “If this got out, especially to groups like Animal Aid or Peta, hell, if it got out to one vegan or vegetarian, it could have a massive impact on everything and everyone; it’d spread like wildfire.” He held the charta next to his face. “The laniary argument would be blown out of the water, for one.”

“The what?” The word appeared to her like a bad smell.

“Laniary...you know,” he lowered his arm, “canine, pointed teeth.”

“Speak English, then.” She fixed him with a look she’d give to a badly behaved dog. “I can’t keep up with this science mumbo jumbo you come out with at the most inconvenient of times.”

“Yes, anyway...sorry,” he quickly apologised, realising how rude he sounded. “As I was saying, the argument that humans have canines meant for meat, that humans were in fact designed to eat meat, would never have a leg to stand on. Like, think, why do humans kill animals anyway? Because they can’t talk? Because we’re used to it? If we really take time to question the reality--”

“This is why you need to get rid of it, it’s corrupting you already!” she hissed, putting both hands on his shoulders and guiding him towards the door. “I don’t care how, just, for God’s sake...” she fumbled around in her pocket and produced a lighter, struggling to light it with unsteady hands. “Fuck it, I’ll destroy it myself.”

He shrugged himself free of her like ‘crazy’ was contagious. “We’re inside!”

Moaning loudly, she threw her hands up and spun around to face the floor-to-ceiling window that looked onto the car park. “Look, the more we diversify humans from pigs and cows and sheep and whatever else, the more money we make, the more we are allowed the freedom to kill them and turn them into our product which is...?” she turned and raised her eyebrows expectantly, making hand gestures meant to hurry him up.

“Um...lip-smackingly good?”

“Bingo. I will not risk it coming out that animals and humans used to live in ‘harmony’ together...”

“For years and years!”

She stared at him, unreceptive and through gritted teeth continued: “... Until, due to a massive crop failure, one of the villagers proposed that they cook and eat the livestock, and why? Because they saw them as inferior beings just because they didn’t share the same language.”

The assistant held the charta up to read from it. “Then, said villagers who indulged in the murder were...called forth and executed by the head of the village,” he flicked his eyes up to look over the top of the paper, “or so it says.”

“Animals are for eating, it was perfectly justified.”

He sighed, exasperated. “Well apparently, we’re not supposed to be eating meat.”

“If that is in fact a genuine article from history!” she snatched it from him. “You’re wavering.” Shoving past him, she strode into the hall, clutching the charta so hard that it was beyond creased. “I’ll burn it myself...and then I’ll buy twice as much meat when the day is over. Fucking hippies.”

#53 - Shared Brain

Today’s words: Honey, Lemon, Badger, Monster

Word count: 389

Completion time: 50 minutes

Summary: If anything, instead of guys getting angry at feminists, they should be angry at what society is promoting as acceptable behaviour for the typical male. Feminists do not, repeat, do not hate men, like...at all

--

For me to call myself a monster would only serve to promote the classic monster to a hero. What word that could be used against me had not yet been invented, it pains me to admit. Had not one lemon but two, or indeed twelve been sliced in half and squeezed into my eyes, it would still not be equal to what they endured in my hands. 

I had always been taught that I had immense power from the day that I had taken on a Y instead of an extra X; it was never expressed so overtly, but I had an idea that I was treated as the dominant sex, even as a child. Everyone had those ‘my sex (and therefore gender...? Though the two are not interchangeable in the least) is better than yours’ moments, but I genuinely believed it. I was willing to put my willy on the line that there was nothing a girl could do better than me, no fight that a girl could ever win over a boy, no IQ test that a girl could win unless they cheated or the test had developed feelings for said girl.

As a teenager, I thought that girls were crafty. They got a lot of things by flirting, dressing inappropriately, or playing up their weak side. It wasn’t right – us guys got things on fair terms, by using our strength, mentally and physically; when was the last time you saw a guy lift up his trouser leg to get free drinks? I legitimately used to think that.

I began to resent women at nineteen. I’d play along with their crazy games and when a little honey was at their most vulnerable, I’d turn the tables and gain the upper hand...not realising that society had already given me that for free. 

A website has said that the main enemy of the badger is mankind; if that be the case, sows of the world, hear my plea: not once was my mind my own when I was horrible to you. Though they were not all physical misdemeanours, I am apologetic in equal measures for everything. 

It takes a strong woman to realise and rebel against her position in the world, but it takes a stronger man to admit his privilege and work to correct himself from then on.

#52 - Whole in my Heart

Today’s words: Cat, Ennui, Chocolate, Quixotic

Word count: 442

Completion time: 1 hour 1 minute

Summary: Being in a relationship is the ultimate aim...and if you’re single, you must  be looking for someone

--

The whole world told her that to feel whole, she needed to find her other half, her soul mate.

Feeling down? Experiencing ennui from your life that promised to offer excitement and endless opportunities once you left university? Find yourself with a frown more often than not? Wrinkles populating the edges of your mouth? Need to go on a diet? Want a great-tasting family-sized meal for only a fiver? Well then, my friend, what you need is a fella.

Boyfriends were the apparent solution to everything, she found. Too sad, too happy, too fat, too thin, too human, too ‘you’? Have a partner, a lover, a honey, a hubby.

(Who said she was straight, anyway?)

“Oh pumpkin, you need to find a boyfriend before you get too old. I knew this one woman, virgin ‘til her dying day, who would dress her cat up and dine with it on the kitchen counter, certain that she was on a date with some ex-actor at some swanky restaurant. The profession changed every time I asked about her ‘date’, poor dear.”

The single life was only for the unlucky, the losers, the ugly, the boring...and when she hit puberty, the prospect of a relationship loomed on her before she knew how to form her lips for a ‘proper’ kiss.

At thirteen, people looked down on her for being single. “I’ve been to second and a half base with my boyfriend!” One of her friends boasted once, sticking her chest out with raised eyebrows.

“Oh yeah? Well the other day I dipped my chocolate bar in my hot chocolate and it was the nicest thing ever, better than sex,” she replied with virgin lips.

The quixotic was always advertised as realistic, something plucked from a romance novel or a chick flick, something that you deserved just for being alive...

“You deserve someone great.”

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Who wouldn’t want to date you?”

...And if you didn’t have it, you would eventually. It was something that just had to happen, like death.

After gushing about her charming new husband, her best friend turned and said, “You’ll find someone someday.”

“I’m fine on my own?”

She wrinkled her nose and laughed a little too loud. “Don’t be silly – everyone wants to be with someone. Being single by choice?” another laugh erupted from her throat.

“Well hear it now – I’m fine, and not in an, ‘I’m fine but really I’m not fine’ way, I really am fine, and I am allowed to be fine without someone else to be fine with.”

“Whatever you say, hon,” she said, staring starry eyed at her golden wedding ring.

Madness.

#51 - It Doesn't Matter

Today’s words: Orange, Backpack, Hand sanitiser, pain

Word count: 342

Completion time: 1 hour

Summary: You can know the ins and out of someone, but that doesn’t mean they’ll love you back

--

Your backpack is dark grey, almost black

The original stitching has been re-done in pink

You walk unsteady because you’re conscious of people staring

You chew gum ‘cause you don’t like to talk much

Last term you shouted out the wrong answer in French and didn’t talk for two days

Your smile is crooked, but you refused braces twice

The mole by your cheekbone looks like a misshapen heart

You still stick your tongue out when someone’s mean to you

You like to pretend that your new haircut was supposed to be that short

You’re the height I want to be, but you wish you were shorter

When you smile, your eyes are usually closed

You have two dimples on your left cheek when you do

I know all this because I’ve known you for five years

You still can’t get my name right

In the corridor by E2, I heard you call someone’s shoes ‘gay’

This made me frown, but I pretended you said ‘okay’

It didn’t work

Would someone who’s...make a joke that’s...?

Everyone has a curious stage

And some people realise that it isn’t curiosity

It’s real

We started talking when we were put in the same music group

Tuesday, 9am, Mr Stanley, Music Room 2

I hated waking up early until then

I thought the bass was boring ‘til you played it

I never listened to dance before you played me The Prodigy

I’d never been that shaky until you offered me your left earphone

We were acquaintances ‘til we became friends

But when I said I hated pain, you said you hated orange

When I told you I felt sad, you told me that you were sad once

When I said I was cold, you said to wear more layers

When I told you I felt dirty, you bought me hand sanitiser for Christmas

When I said imagine if...you said it was pointless to do so

When I said I loved you, you took your earphones out and said, “What?”

I smiled and said it doesn’t matter