||[Feb. 7th, 2005|05:47 pm]
A fraction of my NaNo (nanowrimo.org), totally unedited. Throwing it up here just for fun, I had a hell of a time writing it. Although I'm not quite fond of the dialogue in this, I promised myself I wouldn't edit. |
Tell me how much it sucks.
Mary was a young, attractive woman who preferred her coffee with just a tad of pineapple juice, and was despised for it. You see, society absolutely hates more of the same, and absolutely loves the unexpected. The unexpected, however, seems to harbor a grudge against society, and thus society and the unexpected are on rather terse terms, even if society is head over heels for the unexpected.
Now this is where the story becomes rather confusing, for the unexpected has, over time, grown fond of society (though she would sooner die then admit it). His relentlessness took her by surprise and, as you can imagine, the unexpected enjoys surprise very much; it is the fuel for her flame.
One day, the unexpected decided she wouldn’t mind so much to be society’s wife, and at last agreed to marry him. They were wed on the fourth of July, under a brilliant display of fireworks for the founding of a nation that would not be founded for quite a while.
They spent their honeymoon in England, where they listened to great music, drank great wine and had great sex.
The two years after their honeymoon were the happy years. Everything was just right in the family; no one was ever angry; no one ever yelled.
Society worked a day job at a law firm, where he stamped small white sheets of paper and then delivered them to his boss, who then promptly ran them through the paper shredder.
It was the best job society had ever worked; all he had to do was stamp things, take lunch breaks, and urinate.
The unexpected was the greatest wife a man could hope for. She had taken up sewing, and sewed every day with surprising regularity; she cleaned the dishes; washed the car and did pretty much all of the housework that needed doing.
One sunny summer day, after he had left for work, society received a strange call on his cell phone.
”Hello.” A voice said.
”Hello.” He answered.
There was a long pause and a rather awkward silence. Finally society spoke up.
”Who is this?”
”Why don’t you meet me up in the middle of North America?” the voice prompted, “It could be fun.”
Society thought hard. It would mean a break from his work, which had grown rather tiresome lately.
”Okay.” society said, finally.
And so society went to the 1960s, and they had the most wonderful of times. Tolerance was celebrated, tie-die shirts were donned and marijuana was smoked. Oh god, was marijuana smoked.
After what seemed like a decade, society came back to their small flat, pretending to be tired out from a long day’s work.
Soon enough, though, society was grooving with the 70s, rocking with the 80s and invading Iraq with the 90s. And every night at home with the unexpected seemed dull and regular. And so the unexpected and society grew apart.
Finally, the society and the unexpected had a long, good talk about their relationship and decided it wasn’t working. They divorced, split their money and took off.
And soon enough, society had found a new outlet for his emotional needs: pop music. And the unexpected was oh so jealous.
To this day, the unexpected and society are on tough terms. They are sporadically falling in and out of love. But right now, the 21st century, they are out of love and society is quite cross with society for reasons unknown.
And there was nothing more unexpected then a fully grown woman putting pineapple juice in her tea. Society hated her for doing such an unexpected thing, and never passed up a chance to scowl at her.
So Mary had never had a boyfriend, or any real friends, had always been neglected by her mother, had always been hit by her father and had always been scratched by the family cat.
Because she took her coffee with a tad of pineapple juice.
So here she was, drinking coffee in the airport café once again. People were staring, couples whispering, mothers covering the eyes of their children. She was used to it all by now, though. She had to be, to get by.