Wednesday, November 11, 2009


NaNoWriMo is a demanding... cretin (you thought I was going to say lover.. no love here in week #2!). Anyhow...

I took a break from my strange disc found by a metal detector and now in the hands of a bored housewife rather than the alien booked on InterGalactic Flight 1101... and tried to work 'errant' 'hanker' and 'murky' into a story. Enjoy.


I sit on the hard slats of the wooden folding chair, staring at the five—no, make that ten- o’clock shadow—of Bigsworth, or Bozsmouth, or whatever the hell his name is. The harsh fluorescent lights tinge his skin a sickly green. He’s a fucking whiner. He loved crack more than his old lady, his children, his six figure job… whatever. He lost it all and now he’s looking for redemption in the murky depths of a Styrofoam coffee cup. The one perk of Wednesday group therapy: burnt coffee. I hate that mud but by Wednesday morning I’m hankering for it. Maybe that’s how they get us to go to therapy… drug the joe.

“Joe? Would you like to share with us this evening?” I grunt no. Maybe later.

The brassy blonde next to Bigmouth, the one with the deep creases above her lips, deep from puckering them around cigarettes and god knows what else for the past forty years, says in her gravelly voice how sure, she lost it all, gave it away really, but she could do what she fuckin’ had to because of vodka and Quaaludes—that gave her strength. She spreads her legs; I get an errant view of a dick poking between the tear in her orange coveralls.

I never sipped, snorted, smoked or shot up. I have a carton of cigarettes back in the cell and a modified toothpaste tube. I wink at brassy, chin-chuck toward Bigmouth. Yeah, I'll share with them how I got here. Later.


quin browne said...

you caught me by surprise here.. nice little twist in the middle of a nice little piece.

ps the tag words are a hoot.

Leo said...

i second Mr.Quin.. i also got hit by that twister! good one! :)

Angel Zapata said...

Absolute gritty goodness. It's almost like a holiday dinner with my family. Almost.

ThomG said...

I, too, loved the twist in the middle. And yes, please, I want more of this story.

gautami tripathy said...

Looking forward to read more..

elbowing in, elbowing out

Tim R said...

Excellent job as always Peg.

lissa said...

I like "murky depths of a Styrofoam coffee cup" - this quite honesty and I can imagine this to be real, sounds a bit like a tv show but I suppose therapy is like that

PS the Pratsie said...

glad you took out time for this !! :)

Tumblewords: said...

Great imagery - well written piece.

Bernard S. Jansen said...

3WW is a great way to write a little something you would never have otherwise written. (I'm assuming that's what this was...)

Absolutely*Kate said...

I like what one finds at Eldritch Way, therapy in a murky secret place . . . and roads yet to travel, er, share.

Nice place to hang'out your writes Peg.
~ Absolutely*Kate

Sepiru Chris said...

Wowsers, Pegjet.

What a nose-snorter of written caffeine, or something else.

Here I am, a week late at reading and commenting on folks' 3WWs, and I get locked in therapy with the outsider, loopy, carnie, carnivorous dogs of the streets. --And I like it.

Fantastic imagery and nice narrative hook. You've both knocked me out and reeled me in, and this cat is not complaining about lying in the hold with the other fish in the sea. Just, like an addict, I have one thing to say, really.



Thanks for sharing this. Break away from the cretin anytime, pegjet. The contrails are great to read, and wonder what we missed out on the other side of the horizon.