suchaminx
08-30-2006, 05:37 AM
Here is it, my first assignment, my first ever story actually. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I surprised myself writing it
I Stood There
I stood there, looking down at the cane, which was still feeling alien in my hot sticky palm and allowed myself a smile.
I had missed my smiles, but today I had made a start.
Let me take you back a week or so. I was happy, content with my life, a great flat- ok so it wasn’t in the best part of town but it was mine -, a great job and a fabulous gorgeous boyfriend, who looked a little like David Beckham but with the personality of Colin Firth – what more could a girl want?
Maybe I should change that question, to what more could a man like him want? Not that I would be able to answer it.
I came home from work last Thursday. It was early. I had received some devastating news about the job I loved and had worked so hard for, “cutbacks, nothing against you, we would love to keep you on” followed by that word “but”……………how can three small letters change you whole life in a instant?
I walked home, with a heavy heart, even my clothes seemed to be heavy – the fact they had cost me the best part of a months wage, didn’t help. Thomas loved this suit and lovingly decided what I should wear each night – laying it out ready for me. The short tight black skirt that emphasised my bottom as I walked on my 3inch heels, the jacket, cropped at the waist, buttoned in the middle allowing a glimpse of the white crushed silk camisole underneath.
This was the way Thomas liked me, cool, professional, confident on the outside, but he knew that underneath was just naked skin. We loved this secret that we shared. He would call me in work, just hearing his voice would raise my heart rate and he could hear the change in my voice as he spoke. It would always be him asking me to touch myself for him and describe how I was feeling, how hard my nipples were, how wet I was. He also knew that whatever he asked I would do, without question.
I arrived home and opened the door. I wasn’t sure if it was just because of me but it felt different, no smell of the pasta sauce cooking, no coffee, no music, nothing.
I looked round and as I kicked my shoes off, my toes wriggling in the feel of the sheepskin rug, small comfort, but something that made me feel that I was home. I saw his bag.
I heard his footsteps on the polished floorboards, his aftershave filling my senses as I reached out to touch him, he pulled back. I opened my mouth, he stopped me………
I didn’t hear all the words, “…not working, ...not happy, ….its me, …I need time away, ….. we don’t do things together anymore”, but I heard the last ones, the most painful words, “I have met someone else”.
I opened my mouth again, struggled to get some words out, but none would come, the disbelief at what I was hearing striking me dumb. I remember shaking my head, the clip holding my long jet black hair, falling, almost in slow motion, until it hit the floor, taking my heart with it. Thomas walked out of the door, saying nothing more he could say, that it was for the best and one day I would come to realise that he wasn’t for me. The door gently closed behind him as the tears started to fall down my cheeks.
I needed a drink, NO, I didn’t, I needed Thomas back, my pride warning me not to, but I didn’t listen , as I picked up the phone and dialled his mobile.
“This number is no longer is use”
How cruel those words were, how cruel Thomas was, no explanations, no discussion, no inkling, no nothing, just him, alone, making the decision that would impact on my future.
So many questions, all the ones we all know on a break-up, the whys, the self doubt, the what could I have done differently, why now, why didn’t I see the signs. The self pity, the nobody loves me, what’s wrong with me look.
I went to the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror, my jet black hair, usually so glossy and full of life, seemed to have gone dull and listless, my eyes, dull and grey, rather than their usual blue, Thomas always used to say that my eyes were the deepest sapphire blue he had ever seen. My skin pale and blotchy, my nose sore and red, matching my eyes.
In a moment of sanity, I raised myself to my full height of 5ft 3, splashed my face with water and told myself that life goes on. Like I said it was just a moment.
Then reality hits, no job that I loved, no gorgeous boyfriend and if I didn’t sort something out, no great flat. The rent will be due, and without Thomas’s contribution, and no job, no savings, no parents to ask, no bank to go to, they would laugh me out of the front door, well they would today, last week, when I was employed I would have been welcomed with open arms and even given a cup of coffee! Banks, all the same – they will only give you an umbrella when it isn’t raining!
Thinking about Mr Tiddletop – the landlord – I could imagine him climbing the stairs from his small dingy basement flat, stopping to get his breath after each flight of stairs, his face getting redder and redder. His chest heaving and struggling as he tries to catch his breath, the hole in his jumper, expanding and contracting as he takes each deliberate breath in and out.
I sat and considered making a run for it, but then knew that wasn’t me, sure I was living without that bit of my heart that Thomas had taken, but he wasn’t going to take my flat as well.
I was good, I might not have the job to prove that anymore, but I was a strong, professional, confident woman and I could do this.
The doorbell rang, I knew it would be the landlord, all 5ft nothing of him, his small beady eyes, his evil grimace, his total self belief that he was a love god. I looked through the spy hole, and saw him there, smiling, thinking he was about to get what he wanted ….me!
How wrong could someone be? This had to work; I flung open the door, the cane hidden in my hand behind my back. “Come on in Mr Tiddletop”, I said in my sweetest voice.
I saw his eyes devour my body, the tight white t shirt, my nipples giving away my excitement, the short black skirt and my killer heels. He raised his hands and said leeringly ‘If you can’t pay the rent honey we can work something out’
“Indeed we can” I said. Followed with, “Kneel!” I brought my hand from behind my back. I saw the excitement and anticipation in his eyes before he bowed his head and knelt.
I Stood There
I stood there, looking down at the cane, which was still feeling alien in my hot sticky palm and allowed myself a smile.
I had missed my smiles, but today I had made a start.
Let me take you back a week or so. I was happy, content with my life, a great flat- ok so it wasn’t in the best part of town but it was mine -, a great job and a fabulous gorgeous boyfriend, who looked a little like David Beckham but with the personality of Colin Firth – what more could a girl want?
Maybe I should change that question, to what more could a man like him want? Not that I would be able to answer it.
I came home from work last Thursday. It was early. I had received some devastating news about the job I loved and had worked so hard for, “cutbacks, nothing against you, we would love to keep you on” followed by that word “but”……………how can three small letters change you whole life in a instant?
I walked home, with a heavy heart, even my clothes seemed to be heavy – the fact they had cost me the best part of a months wage, didn’t help. Thomas loved this suit and lovingly decided what I should wear each night – laying it out ready for me. The short tight black skirt that emphasised my bottom as I walked on my 3inch heels, the jacket, cropped at the waist, buttoned in the middle allowing a glimpse of the white crushed silk camisole underneath.
This was the way Thomas liked me, cool, professional, confident on the outside, but he knew that underneath was just naked skin. We loved this secret that we shared. He would call me in work, just hearing his voice would raise my heart rate and he could hear the change in my voice as he spoke. It would always be him asking me to touch myself for him and describe how I was feeling, how hard my nipples were, how wet I was. He also knew that whatever he asked I would do, without question.
I arrived home and opened the door. I wasn’t sure if it was just because of me but it felt different, no smell of the pasta sauce cooking, no coffee, no music, nothing.
I looked round and as I kicked my shoes off, my toes wriggling in the feel of the sheepskin rug, small comfort, but something that made me feel that I was home. I saw his bag.
I heard his footsteps on the polished floorboards, his aftershave filling my senses as I reached out to touch him, he pulled back. I opened my mouth, he stopped me………
I didn’t hear all the words, “…not working, ...not happy, ….its me, …I need time away, ….. we don’t do things together anymore”, but I heard the last ones, the most painful words, “I have met someone else”.
I opened my mouth again, struggled to get some words out, but none would come, the disbelief at what I was hearing striking me dumb. I remember shaking my head, the clip holding my long jet black hair, falling, almost in slow motion, until it hit the floor, taking my heart with it. Thomas walked out of the door, saying nothing more he could say, that it was for the best and one day I would come to realise that he wasn’t for me. The door gently closed behind him as the tears started to fall down my cheeks.
I needed a drink, NO, I didn’t, I needed Thomas back, my pride warning me not to, but I didn’t listen , as I picked up the phone and dialled his mobile.
“This number is no longer is use”
How cruel those words were, how cruel Thomas was, no explanations, no discussion, no inkling, no nothing, just him, alone, making the decision that would impact on my future.
So many questions, all the ones we all know on a break-up, the whys, the self doubt, the what could I have done differently, why now, why didn’t I see the signs. The self pity, the nobody loves me, what’s wrong with me look.
I went to the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror, my jet black hair, usually so glossy and full of life, seemed to have gone dull and listless, my eyes, dull and grey, rather than their usual blue, Thomas always used to say that my eyes were the deepest sapphire blue he had ever seen. My skin pale and blotchy, my nose sore and red, matching my eyes.
In a moment of sanity, I raised myself to my full height of 5ft 3, splashed my face with water and told myself that life goes on. Like I said it was just a moment.
Then reality hits, no job that I loved, no gorgeous boyfriend and if I didn’t sort something out, no great flat. The rent will be due, and without Thomas’s contribution, and no job, no savings, no parents to ask, no bank to go to, they would laugh me out of the front door, well they would today, last week, when I was employed I would have been welcomed with open arms and even given a cup of coffee! Banks, all the same – they will only give you an umbrella when it isn’t raining!
Thinking about Mr Tiddletop – the landlord – I could imagine him climbing the stairs from his small dingy basement flat, stopping to get his breath after each flight of stairs, his face getting redder and redder. His chest heaving and struggling as he tries to catch his breath, the hole in his jumper, expanding and contracting as he takes each deliberate breath in and out.
I sat and considered making a run for it, but then knew that wasn’t me, sure I was living without that bit of my heart that Thomas had taken, but he wasn’t going to take my flat as well.
I was good, I might not have the job to prove that anymore, but I was a strong, professional, confident woman and I could do this.
The doorbell rang, I knew it would be the landlord, all 5ft nothing of him, his small beady eyes, his evil grimace, his total self belief that he was a love god. I looked through the spy hole, and saw him there, smiling, thinking he was about to get what he wanted ….me!
How wrong could someone be? This had to work; I flung open the door, the cane hidden in my hand behind my back. “Come on in Mr Tiddletop”, I said in my sweetest voice.
I saw his eyes devour my body, the tight white t shirt, my nipples giving away my excitement, the short black skirt and my killer heels. He raised his hands and said leeringly ‘If you can’t pay the rent honey we can work something out’
“Indeed we can” I said. Followed with, “Kneel!” I brought my hand from behind my back. I saw the excitement and anticipation in his eyes before he bowed his head and knelt.