Tonight’s fiction

So in the midst of set­ting up a judo tour­na­ment, I took time to go to a writ­ers’ group meet­ing.

At the last meet­ing, two weeks ago, we gave each oth­er sto­ry prompts. Mine was: “A romance between a worm and a giraffe”. I was all, Thanks.

So here’s what I end­ed up with:

Sor­ry? I didn’t hear you.
.…

Well, I heard that you said some­thing, but not what you said.

.…

Your voice is a lit­tle soft, that’s all I’m say­ing.

.…

Fine.

Can you hear me now?

Yes, much bet­ter. Where are you?

You can’t feel me?

No. Well, not right now. You know.

I’m in your ear, just inside the out­er ear. Lis­ten, you said yes­ter­day that we need to talk. What’s up, babe?

Well…

Spill it. Spit it out.

All right. Lis­ten, you know, we’ve been, well, we’ve been…together for a long time now, and I’m just, well, I’m just won­der­ing where you see this going. You know?

Eight days is a “long time”?

Don’t dodge the ques­tion. My moth­er–

Yeah, I thought she might’ve–

Don’t let’s start. Can we start over?

Sure. We need to talk?

Yes. Where are we going, hon?

Well, I’m enjoy­ing myself, I thought you were enjoy­ing your­self too…

I am, I am. Oh believe me, I am.

Why do you need to put labels on things, then? Are we lovers? Are we goin’ to the chapel, gonna get mar­ried? Why can’t two grown crea­tures just, you know, enjoy them­selves?

Well…

Babe, if you need to ask the ques­tion, do you want the answer? Think on that one.

That doesn’t even make any sense.

Exact­ly. Noo­dle on that one for a while.

What­ev­er, lis­ten, I just told my moth­er I’d ask. Because she’s got this need to know. You know?

Are you hap­py?

I… Yes. Yes I am, love.

Then the hell with your mother’s nos­ing. You and me, babe, we’re all we need.

You’re right. You know what? Screw her. Screw her med­dling ways!

That’s the spir­it, babe. Any­thing else?

Well…

Thought that might not be all. What now? Your dad wants to know if I fol­low foot­ball?

No. This one’s from me. I kind of, well… I want to know… With worms, it’s so hard to tell some­times…

What? Tell what? Know what?

Well, are you… Are you male or female?

Hmmm. Tough ques­tion, I kind of got both goin’ on, you know? Worms, like you say. Hard to define. Hard to pin down.

I know. But when you think about your­self, you know, do you think of your­self as male, or female?

What’s it mat­ter? This is your dad ask­ing, isn’t it?

No, no. I just… I just want to know if I’m… well. I want to know if I’m gay or straight.

Oh baby. You and your labels.

For next meet­ing, in anoth­er fort­night, I’m sup­posed to have a com­plet­ed out­line of my WiP, the nov­el Once I was you.

Next time: » Shi­ai!