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El Zilcho

One Shots

Recommended Posts

slimeball supreme

The Wish: A Love Story


The rain patters down on the roof of the house in which I live; my room, the room of my farm. I look out the window, out into what would usually be bright greens, a sea of grass, bright blue skies. Children playing. The animals enjoying themselves. Much like the weather, however, the world has become dark.


The dirt in the pig pen has become mud. The grass awash in a sea of literal water. The skies grey, water streaming from the clouds much like tears stream from my eyes. My life? It isn’t easy to explain. Tears fall, they wet the bed on which I sit on, of which is positioned by my window in the house of which I live. Today, I am lost. I cough, and through squinted eyes I check my watch. I realize it is time to go. I stand from my seat by the window and shuffle across the room, to my desk.


On my desk, is my diary. In my diary, I write of my life. Of what happens in it. Another tear streams down as I open the book, as I finger through it to the last page. It drops onto the inky letters of which I have written into the book of which I write my life's stories.


"D*mn!" I cry. It smudged a word. Hope. It has become blotchy, wet. Ironic, I think. My thoughts exactly.


I turn to the last page, the final page of my book. It is the only blank one left, soft, cream paper with lines drawn through it of which to guide my handwriting so it is properly formatted. Another tear streams down.


It has been a month since I had seen Kyle. Oh, Kyle! The man of my dreams, with his soft eyes, his hard cheeks, the stares of which he used to stare into my soul. He had gone off, to war. The greatest war, guns toted, on the shores of Gallipoli. God, how I missed him! God, how I hoped he would return! It was forbidden love, the purest of them all. Our parents had forbade, but on the night before he left; we had met upon the hill overlooking our farms. Oh, those crisp West Virginia mornings! Oh, how I wish I knew!


I grab my pen, and write on the page. In bold letters, in bold words: I wish Kyle would come home. Oh how I wish! How I hope he lives! Another tear streams down from my eye, of which lands on the paper in front of me. It does not smudge the words, but it smudges my heart. How I weep.


Suddenly, I hear calling. A voice from afar beckons, that of my father. "Supper is ready!" he cries. I am not hungry, but I do not wish to be beaten. I do not wish to upset father. In the dining room, I sit down. I sigh. It is dirt stew again. It is brown, and mucky, and incredibly poor-tasting - horrendous to the tongue.


"Why do you sigh?" my father asks. "Do you not like supper?"


"No, sir. It is good."


"Good. You do realize, as your mother has contracted polio, I will now be solely cooking the meals?"


"Yes, sir."


"Good." We continue to eat. Oh, how I hate this man with a passion! After he forbade me from seeing my one true love! How can I stomach it? I stare. My father stares back.


"What is it, woman?" he snarls. "Do you want me to get the belt out?! I am not afraid to do so if you shall stop with these withering eyes of which you use to look upon me with!"


"D*mn it, father!"


"Alice! Do not swear at the dinner table again, young lady!"


"D*mn you to H*ll! You have forced my hand, father! If you had not sent Kyle away, we would not be in this place!"


Thunder roars outside. The rain screams onto our house. "How dare you speak of this man again! He is but lower class, working at his sickening turnip farm across the river. We are of noble blood! Young lady I--"


"No, father! I loved him! With all my heart and soul, he was the love of my life! And you took him from me, father, you struck him aside; and thus, you struck me aside!"


"That's enough!" He is redfaced, steaming hot. I have angered him. "You will go outside right now and clean up after the pigs, young lady."


"But there's a hurricane, father!"


"That's enough, Alice! Another emotional outburst like this and you shall be cast away to the nunnery!"


"Misery me and murderation!" I cry, and in a huff, I leave. The rain drenches me to the core, but I do not care. I would rather drown than deal with that putrid man again! And I must follow his orders, anyhow. The rain may have cleaned a large portion of the pig's filth, but my job must be done. Some things can only be cleaned with a human touch. I sit down on the stairs leading down into the farm from our ranchhouse, tears streaming down my face, of which land on the floor. They cannot be told from the rain streaking all over our property, washing away our cattle, washing away my misery. I sigh, and look up.


And in the distance, I see a man. He is broad shouldered, square jawed, standing in the distance. He does not speak, he is but a silhouette. His shoulder-length hair drifts in the wind, his arms by his side. I know who this man is.


It is Kyle.


In an instant, I run. Sprint, as fast as I can, through muddied gravel, through tall grass. His strong features ever-present as I come closer, emotions swelling to sheer boiling point, hot despite the cold water against our faces. His arms are now outstretched, a truly messianic figure -  a man set amongst the disaster behind him. My tears are ones of happiness, bliss. My wish had come true.


I pounce into his arms, yet he whisks me away. He is strong, powerful - arms like barrels, of which are used to hoist objects of which are really powerful. He's very strong. We spin, embrace. He is home.


"Oh, Kyle!" I cry.


"Oh, Alice!" He whispers.


"I have missed you much, Kyle!"


"I too. The beaches were rough, the weather hot and heavy. The artillery risked many a man and took the lives of many others. On the battlefield, I risked my life, and in the heat of the moment, I left before all else. My love for you was just that strong."


"Oh, Kyle!" Our embrace, in that instant, turned into a passionate kiss. Like heaven and hell colliding, like hot and cold, our lust knew no bounds. The pure strength of our passion pushed us onto the ground, but we continued; not mud and rain, not hell and earth, not all the armies and nations and international criminal court tribunals in the world could stop us in that instant. It was meant to be.


Oh, that year! In all it's boisterous verisimilitude! O, how I look on it fondly. The sunset creeps behind the mountaintops ahead of me, on this lovely evening. I knit, as I am an elderly woman now. As we are an elderly couple.


My son, Chadwick, and my daughter, Stephanika, blissfully play in the fields. It has been decades since that year, since my parents passed, since we met. Our love bounds us together, like the plumbing of a house binds a home to a sewage system. We are but a humble couple, our love everlasting. As I ponder, Kyle approaches me. He is in his seventies, but he has the spring of a man decades his junior.


"Hello, love," he says.


I smile. "Oh, Kyle."


"I made you this," he says. From within his sweater pocket, he pulls out a card. 'Happy Anniversary' is written upon it, in glittering letters: the whole card drenched in glitter, like our marriage is drenched in love. "To celebrate."


"Oh, Kyle... it's beautiful!"


And in that moment, we embraced, as we did in our youth. The flame had not been extinguished. O, how I loved this man!


Next theme: coming out

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Posted (edited)

That was a simple, neatly written one shot, Slime. I liked the way it was written, as if translated, but something about it felt very obtuse in a good way. The happy ending was nice too.





Jess was sat outside in the smoking area, puffing away as she looked across the way; the street was shimmering from fresh rain, with the lights above illuminating the guy she’d seen across the street. He look familiar, sporting a black jumper she’d seen him wear before. It couldn’t be him, could it? He was sat on a bench, his features cast out from the bright lights of the restaurant that had an abundance of lights shimmering inside. He’d walked out of his group of friends who were still inside laughing—two couples and a girl he’d come with. She felt her grip tighten on her cigarette. Was he with her? Was this what jealousy felt like, what the f*ck was she thinking?


“Jess!” a familiar voice called out.


Summer came bouncing over with a smile. She was short, much shorter than her with bright blonde hair and the bubbly personality to fit it. She pulled Jess in, smelling like tequila and put her mouth on her. Jess pulled away after a second and wiped her mouth with a smile.


“I’m getting bored. Why don’t we get out of here?” she said with her droopy eyes, wanting a little action of her own.


“I want to stay a little longer,” she replied, still staring out towards the guy in the black jumper who was looking up towards the overhanging lights connecting to the two buildings.


“But I want to go,” replied Summer, pouting, gearing up for the argument over this petty stuff.


“Let’s stay.”


“Fine, stay out here then—who are you looking at?” she asked Jess, trying to make out somebody across the road.


“Nobody,” replied Jess as she looked away.


“It’s that guy from before over there isn’t it? What? You suddenly don’t want this?”


“No,” Jess said with a groan. “I was just looking out onto the road!”


“You’re so pathetic. I’m not going to be second best,” she yelled to Jess with slur before storming off.


She’d been dating Summer since she came out to her parents when she was nineteen. Two years ago—and it felt so simple. There was no colossal repression in her, she felt. She just never liked guys, and her parents never cared about who she was dating. But the last year had been a tiresome one with Summer—angry Summer, jealous Summer who always went through her phone and hated seeing her talking to anybody else.


She dropped her cigarette and leaned her head on the fencing. She decided she wasn’t sticking around to have another full blown argument episode in front of everybody. As she stepped past the front security, she heard one of Summer’s friends screaming at her, doing the drunken bullsh*t she’d heard a thousand times before. “She’s not cheating on you, Sum. You gotta calm down, she loves you!”


She walked down the road, still staring at the guy who was leaning back with his eyes closed and she realized that for the first time ever, she felt something. She liked him, and wanted to go and talk to him. Butterflies flew around her as if she was nervous, something she’d never felt before when she spoke to girls she liked—it was always just so simple with them.


With a deep breath, she crossed the road as another patch of rain began. She walked towards him as he flicked his cigarette away and as he noticed he, he smiled.


“Hi, Jess,” she said with a smile that creased his eyes. She felt an elastic band go around her head and bit the inside of her cheek.


“I just wanted to thank you again for the other night. It could have been a lot worse with Summer. She gets like that sometimes.”


He pulled out another cigarette and then handed it to her. She took it slowly. He got another for himself and lit both of them while he spoke. “She shouldn’t have been driving. You were lucky I was taking a shortcut. It could have been a lot worse than you two crashing into a ditch.”


“I know. We were arguing,” replied Jess as she sat down next to him. “She got angry and accused me of cheating and she swerved the car. Luckily you got there and pulled her out. She was crazy...”


“I didn’t mean to yell at her but I felt she needed it.”


“She did.”


“I’m assuming she doesn’t like me very much now anyway.”


“No...she thinks you’re my new lover.”


“She thinks that of every person you talk to?”


“Most,” she replied.


“I thought you were gay?”


“I am but she assumes the worst of everything. It’s exhausting—I never got your name. Everything happened so fast when you drove her to the hospital.”


“Winter. But everybody just calls me Win’.”


“Odd name,” she said with half a smile.


“I thought so too...do you wanna come in and get some food? I’m here with some of my family.”


“I don’t know—Summer’s probably worried about me and I should get going anyway.”


She felt like it was with Summer. A tinge of something like worry went through her and she regretted not taking the offer. Any second now he was going to tell her “Fine” and stomp off. She waited for it.


“Well, whatever you want to do it’s fine with me. We’ll be at the bar inside in a few, you’re choice. The female bartender is cute. You might hit it off.”


That didn’t make her laugh. Right now, she didn’t want to talk to anybody else or flirt with anybody but Winter—and she hated herself for that, for not knowing how to deal with this sudden rush of newfound attraction. She smiled and told him goodnight and walked down the road, trying to not cry, trying to not let anything in. He yelled goodnight to her and that just made it worse.


What if she wasn’t gay? What if all her friends stopped being her friend because she finally found somebody that made her click into place. She walked down the road and thought about what would happen if she’d have to come out to her family and friends again—what would they say to her? Would she be vilified? The rain went harder now and she could only imagine the argument ahead of her with Summer. And yet none of it mattered when she looked back to see Winter still watching her go. She walked away from the street and felt the butterflies go harder. God, she felt so stupid.


Next theme: Toto - Africa

Edited by Ziggy455
Next theme: Toto - Africa

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