So, the new week is here. My countdown is on until it's off for holidays. And my goodness, it has turned cold. It appears that overnight, a cross-breed of autumn and winter has crept into the city and decided to seep through every open crevice into the flat. What in the world is going on? Never mind autumn: we appear to have skipped it entirely and are getting the childhood stage of winter already. Out with the scarves and thick winter boots: hurray.
But anyways: I guess it is just a monday morning and I got the monday blues. So, I wanna give y'all a little something to start the day with a giggle. As I said before, I've started writing a book. It's kind of semi-autobiographical in the sense that I'm changing names and perhaps the chronology of the events but otherwise pretty much all of it happened. So, here y'are: the first few paragraphs of the first chapter, enjoy!
Having worked in a fetish store for over four years didn’t stop Lily feeling grossed out by particular characters time and time again. The variety of people she had met was huge: transvestites, transsexuals, cross-dressers, lesbians, homosexuals, wannabe-fetishists, full-blown-fetishists, anchor-men, basketball players, producers, politicians, businessmen, beauticians, prostitutes, artists, musicians, wrinkly women, plasticised women, urologists, proctologists, monogamists, misogynists, polygamists, playmates, playboys, rich, poor, skinny, huge, crazy, introverted, tattooed, pierced, old, young and not one was ever like the other.
The day was dragging and Lily prayed that closing her eyes would make it pass quicker. Hunched over on the bar stool behind the till she could hear Sonya flicking through a magazine and chomping on a peach. Come on, she beckoned, one hour to go. Just one more hour until I can snuggle up with Matt and watch series all evening. Lily could hear Sonya droning on about some political, environmental, something-a-rather theme: “Isn’t it ghastly that the current, prosperous political stance …” Sonya was lovely and liked going to demos, knitting and baking, unlike Lily. Baking, sure. Knitting, maybe. But squatting in front of train tracks to protest against something that is going to happen come what may? No. Lily had better things to do.
The droning grew quieter and suddenly stopped. Lily kept her eyes closed and her head nestled deep in her hands. Norah Jones played quietly over the speakers and the smell of PVC and rubber made itself noticeable in her nose and mouth again (she thought she had managed to control that). Yuk. Wearing it, ok; but the thought of it ruling my night and day? No thank you… And that’s when suddenly she realised why Sonya had grown quiet. Without lifting her head out of her hands Lily whispered ever so quietly: “Sonya, is it who I think it is?” Trying hard not to wobble on the bar stool Lily lifted her head up in slow motion and leaned back against the counter. Sonya sighed. “I’m afraid so. You? Or me?”
ps. drop me a line if you wanna read more or comment below if you wanna get something off your chest. Have a good monday morning, y'all!!
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