I woke up with a horrid coat of rancid mulch inside my mouth. As I sat up on my elbows I gravely rubbed my head, unable to massage away the warm, consistent pounding. I surveyed my room. I only knew it was my room because of the familiar musky smell and angular shapes of my mismatched furniture. Beside the coffee ring marked bedside table was my easy chair. My clothes were less than gracefully attached to it. Strewn across the floor below the chair was a little mountain of screwed up balls of tissue paper. Or was it ordinary paper? Does it matter? I don’t know… You tell me. Anyways, on the far side of the room was a cheap pine chest of drawers. Several dirty glass tumblers littered the top of the drawers; some were carelessly knocked over and threatening to roll over the edge. The painted green walls were a cross between a matt apple green and a lurid puke green. Depending on whichever way the light hit it. Every so often there was a bare patch where the paint separated from the wall, a result of badly placed posters that needed to be torn down again in a matter of minutes. After doing my routine check of the perimeters, I pulled myself up and sat on the edge of the bed and faced the windows. Although I could feel that my bare feet had come in contact with something… foreign, I was feeling rather euphoric. It was possible that last night’s party still had an effect on me. It seemed apparent from the general mess and lack of memory that last night was a success. I tried to rub away the sleep from my eyes. The curtains were still drawn, somewhat shielding me from the unpredictable outside world. I could tell that it was some time in the late afternoon from how the stubborn rays were still able to infiltrate the shield of my cheap curtains and give off enough light to allow me to carry out my survey. That and the fact that I know I usually wake up late after a night of hardcore drinking and drugging. Still, I observe how all, but one ray managed to penetrate through a slight opening in the curtains and slice through the dim room.1
Just before I could even begin to try to recollect last night’s event, I heard movement from the next room. I had an en-suite? Oh, no, I don’t. I just sleep next to the bathroom. I sat in silence, listening to the rush of water making its escape into the sewers below, followed by the squeak of taps. Blood shot eyes followed the sounds through the walls until finally it fell silent at the door. As the door swung open, my eyes met with a rather tall, rather thin, rather ferocious red head. She was kind of attractive. If you were drunk and lost your sense of sight. Dirt caked on to her very tiny shirt, which seemed to be distressing her chest as it appeared that her breasts were trying to escape over the top of her low-cut shirt. The fish net stockings below a very mini, mini-skirt were ridden with snags. Large, black boots swung from her hand. In the other was a loosely held cigarette. Who the hell was this woman? I was as sure as I am of my sexuality that… Scrap that, I wasn’t even sure of my sexuality, myself. Not after that incident last summer when I woke up to find a piece of paper in my underwear (which I was wearing) with the words, “Thanks for such a great time… love, Clive.” I don’t remember ever meeting a Clive before and I sure as hell don’t remember getting intimate with a Clive either. Anyways, I was sure that this woman standing before me right now was no maid. First of all, I can’t afford one. And second, something tells me you don’t pay this woman to clean… So what the fuck is she doing in my room? Hold on… I took another glance around the room. Maybe this was her house? She gives me the slightest of fictitious smiles and crosses the room to whip the curtains open. I flinched and squinted as light floods in to the room and exposes the true atrocity of the mess that swamped the floors. Blinded, I hear a husky voice, “Morning love,” I moan in reply. She moves to the end of the bed and answers my previous questions, “So that was the oral, plus the whole way, but I guess I‘ll give you a little bit off ‘cause you fell asleep before anything happened (I‘m feeling generous), and the sample of the bondage session. That rounds off at £135. And sorry, I would offer a morning service, but you slept in too long and I have another appointment to attend to in five minutes.”2
Author notes
So this is my first proper attempt at giving a go on writing a real story. Inspired by Hunter S. Thompson's Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas.
There's no real plot just yet. I haven't thought of one yet. I don't even know what or who my character is. I'm hoping to leave most of it to spontaneity of the mind and hand.
Based somewhat on my current travelling around Scotland and the North of England for 2 weeks - using locations and whatnot. My journey ends tomorrow evening, but the serious writing only begins then.
I wrote this about a week ago, making most of it up as i went a long and i was rather chuffed. I got a good response from a couple of honest friends. So i thought i would post it up here to get some feedback from honest strangers.
So please... any comments, thoughts, feelings would be totally appreciated =]
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Pretty cool. Kept me interested, and I definately want to read more. Hurry up and get the next part out! lol. Yeah, well, if it's your first, it's really good. I like it. Keep up the good work!
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lol, it was funny!good images.good write.keep on rockin!
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I loved Fear & Loathing. The movie did it even better justice... But then again, I love everything Johnny Depp does.
This was a really intriguing read. Can't wait to see more. -
this is really good keep it up
much love
britany -
Moo this is really very good and I must agree with the others who have critiqued before me...YOU DO DEFINITELY have an intresting life!
I look forward to reading more!
~Nikki~ -
Mey, I must agree with Daniela. If this is based you your life, than you most deffinately have a more interesting life than I do. HAHA.
Wonderful imagery. I envy your talent of painting visual pictures with your words. I'm looking forward to reading the rest. -
Duh Duh Duh, Na na na na nana na na
Wow May! You have an amazing sense of imagery, and i envy you so very much.
I like the feel of not knowing whats going on, and it actually being the thing you were thinking of, the pseudo-innocence turned nasty, haha.
Take care when developing your plot though, remember to vary technique and such, and not end up relying on just imagery.
(Maybe that's just me)
Nonetheless, i am honestly very impressed
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I'm looking forward to future installments. Good luck to you and your muse.
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made me want to read more as well. very good. keep it up!
..nikki.. -
9/10
Well, it made me want to read more, so ya, good story so far. -
beautiful
cool I like this write.Love the flow of the beat and how well you could uderstand it!Good job agian and keep up the great work!
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If this is based on your current experiences, you live a much more interesting life than I do.
This is good. It capture's the reader's interest, and the descriptions give you a good view of the room without being overpowering (if you know what I mean - where there's so much description that you lose track of the story.) It sounds like a great start. I hope this story works for you and I'll be reading along.
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