I was thinking hot air balloon for my darling, and me, the shotgun-anonymous, stood among a herd of cows. Agatha Christie mystery, wellingtons as evidence, very passionate screenplay of his. No, I dunno really, I love all my marriage arrangement, and the children sometimes. But would you, my writer pals, as an exercise, enjoy, and like to write a table love scene for me, for us*, in a restaurant, perhaps? [I MEAN WF*, NOT FOR ME AND HER] You can end it under silk sheets, or fizzle pathetic at your 150 words, you worm. Either ways I shall read it alone, mmm mmm marmite over my wrinkly skin. If there are no takers by the weekend I shall never come here again.
I'm intrigued. Are we to believe that a fish supper and a bottle of Tizer lain atop a bed of rose petals is not romantic enough in Brighton Heights?
No, it's my training as scout leader. I need evidence for my motivating a team. Please play and write something really steamy: Scottish latvians/ young men servicing grandma in high socks/Oor Willey, even. But Valentine's theme, sincerity is an option, often road best taken. ...
The fries are dry, said the wife. Yes, they are very much dry, said the husband. The kids were probably at the ball-pit, playing, screaming, vomitiing, throwing balls at one another. Balls. Hey, do you wanna go back home and do, you know. The wife winked. Sure. Husband and wife took their leave from the local McDonalds. They know their way back home, thought the wife as they pass by the window to the germ-infested ball-pit. Fifteen minutes was all it took, and the wife didn't even bother for a cigarette.
I've written this wrong. Often, in my experience, a thread gets me going to write a story. I was being nice, trying to give writers a kick-start for their creativity. Really it was quite obvious, @outsider, always undermining my status as romantic muse and inspiration.
They had only been dating a few weeks prior, but everyone thought they were a handsome couple. That morning he wanted to get her something special. A box of chocolates would be nice, he thought as he peered into the many windows adorned in red hearts and little rosy cherubs. After settling on a nice looking variety of chocolates he headed home and got all cleaned up. Meeting her at her apartment in the early evening, he loved her mid length red dress that accentuated her body. She led him to the couch, and he placed the box of chocolates on the coffee table. They held each other in tender embrace, staring longingly into each others eyes. This led to light kissing and caressing. Spiraling slowly into heavy petting and more amorous lip locks. They became a tangled mess on the couch of passion, and desire. Articles of clothing began being removed as the intensity of the mood increased. In the low light their shining metal bodies together just moments before they had each other. Some time had passed and they set entwined, captured in time motionless in their passion. Her wet-ware and his hardware were not compatible, so there they will stay forever rusted in the throes of desire until the super comes to collect the rent.
