Messy

I take another sip of my glass of shitty $4.49 Riesling as another carpenter ant crawls up my unshaved shin. Is this what I’ve become? I think to myself. I sip once more, knowing fully well I will have heartburn in 20 minutes. Damn this wine is shitty.

Last night was supposed to be fun. I was supposed to be fun. Instead, I found myself covering my crotch when he went for the tie on my shorts. I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. The last time I did it, bad things happened to me. Very bad things.

His mouth felt the same as all of their mouths: taut and wet. It was as if when I kissed him, I was kissing all of them. Every guy I had ever been with. Which, for your information, wasn’t actually that many. But they still remained, despite that.

My phone dinged and vibrated. “You have a new message from Carl.” I let out a sigh and force-touched the screen to open the message. I skimmed the speech bubble’s contents and replied with the usual “It’s going. You?” I wasn’t that original.

Another sip. I didn’t want to waste the nice bottle of Riesling from the local winery. That was too good. Too good for me. Here comes the heartburn, I shutter as acid from my stomach filters into my throat.

Knock, knock. My roommate was at the door. I put the glass of wine under my desk and walked towards the door.

–Elizabeth Lacey

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126: I Could Have

I could have avoided all that trouble if I had only remembered to know my place.

I sheepishly walked into the basement of the party, lights flashing and music blasting. I was surrounded by bodies; bodies jumping, bodies grinding, bodies screaming. This was one of the first times that I had been in a place like this. Part of me liked it.

From across the room, we made eye contact. I looked at him in his costume and he looked at me in mine. Soon, we were dancing.

And soon, we were going back to his place. He opened the door to his room and I followed him inside as shyly as earlier. I had never done this before.

We took a break for him to go to the bathroom. I felt tired; I wanted to leave. Suddenly, a brunette entered the bedroom.

“Who are you?” she asked me.

“I’m his friend.”

“I’m his girlfriend.

I immediately pulled my skirt down and headed for my heels. I grabbed the rest of my items and trampled down the stairs. I could hear them yelling above me as I darted out into the rain.

If I had only remembered to know my place. 

via See Jane Write: 365 Blog Post Ideas and Writing Prompts

Exposed

I woke up with nothing on but my pants around my ankles, caught on my boots. What happened last night?

I felt a bubbling in my stomach and ran to the bathroom in only a towel. I pulled up the toilet seat and saw last night’s dinner. Wiping my mouth, I flushed the toilet. After having food poisoning, I was used to this. I continued the routine, pouring myself a cap of Listerine and placing toothpaste on my toothbrush.

I turned the shower on, placing my hand underneath to find the right temperature. When it was warm enough, I hopped in and let the water cascade over my hungover body. My shampoo tingled on my scalp, the foam falling onto my shoulders.

When I was done cleansing myself of last night, I climbed out and patted myself with the towel. Wrapping it around me again, I went back to my room.

1 New Message

Hey how are you feeling?

I checked the phone calls I made and there it was. I shuddered and looked at the messages I sent earlier. I cringed even more.

What happened last night?

via Daily Prompt: Exposed