Friday, June 15, 2012

Being the Perfect Ex - Spider-Killing Not Included
#RomanticFridayWriters

What qualities do you think a perfect ex possesses? Physical? Mental? Emotional? Financial?


This original short piece (400 WOL) is written for the prompt of "Being the Perfect Ex" by the Romantic Friday Writers blog group. Please visit here for more great story snippets on this theme.

Here now my piece: Spider-Killing Not Included.

“Steely jaw, high cheekbones, and killer abs,” Veronica said.

Everyone in our Monthly Martini Monday group knew the closest Veronica had gotten to killer abs was Pinning Joe Manganiello to her Hotties and Heartthrobs board.

via Wikimedia
In the interests of not getting my a$$ sued off for money I
don't have, am substituting a face shot for an abs shot.
You'll just have to imagine 'em.
Rita almost spewed Appletini all over the table, “Girl, you smokin’ crack? I don’t want my ex to look hot. I want him scarfin’ Cheetos and blowin’ up like a freakin’ Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade balloon. I want that loser cryin’ at home, watchin’ porn and hatin’ himself for losin’ me.”

Veronica sipped something that just happened to be the color of blood, “Oh, I want him to hate himself over losing me.”

Everybody passed her drink to the right, took a sip of the new drink.

She continued, “The Perfect Ex works out at the gym constantly to win me back. I want him to obsess about me. I want him to wake up in the night and ache, wonder what - or who - I’m doing now. To know that all I have to do is reach out my hand,” she gestured with an impressive salon manicure, “and he’s mine, again.”

“Vindictive little bitch, ain’t we?” Rita teased.

Veronica pretended offense, “Who you calling little?”

Donna, late again, slid into the booth.

“The subject’s ‘Being the Perfect Ex,” I told her.

She ordered a Mangotini, then jumped in,“The Spider Contract. No matter what, even if you’ve been split for years, he has to be on call to come kill spiders.”  

My ex wouldn’t kill spiders for me, and he wasn’t eating himself into a new zip code. Abe had a life, not pining away for me like a loser. Thinning hair, reading glasses, and he certainly didn’t boast Joe Manganiello abs. (Really, besides Joe, who did?)

But his mouth was as hot as ever, he knew exactly how to touch and caress and make me come, over and over and over again. I felt a frisson of pleasure run through me at the memory, less than 24 hours old. Held my swollen lips to the Lemon Drop, letting the icy rim of the glass ease the delicious pain of being kissed half out of my mind.

via Hungry Girl's Healthy Cocktail Makeovers

Abe was willing to be anything I wanted, from booty call to steady lover. Pretty perfect ex in my book.

“Denise, you’re wearing a very wicked smile,” Rita commented.

“Ladies, I have a confession to make...”

 ***

  Some writers are very sensitive to criticism, hence this guideline.


Word Count: 397 FCA

While I like to think I am a sensitive writer-type, I'm not ultra-sensitive about these kinds of short shorties. I write them to learn and stretch my writer-muscles. Even if you tell me you HATED every single word of it, I will not be crushed and never write again (though I may ease the sting with a martini).

Please do share, not just what you liked, but what didn't work for you. What there wasn't enough of. What rang untrue. If this inspired you to call an AA sponsor for me. If I kissed up enough to our RFW moderators.

Thanks!