Friday, July 06, 2007

Fiction Friday #1

Remember a few weeks ago when I mentioned that I was was saving all of Queenie's "Punks" stories? (And now I've gone and seen that she's labeled things and one of the labels is Punks, therefore making the work that I did unnecessary now, but still it was fun when I did it. And she's cleared up that some of the other stories with a Tommy are also "Punks" even though Minnie isn't in them.) Well, today is the day you all learn why.

I'm going to try and post some sort of fiction each Friday. Here at Blogger, I'll post them Thursday just before I leave work, but the date will always read Friday at 12:01 AM because I'm hoping that one of these day's Blogger will let me do the future post thing so I can get everything set up whenever I want and then it'll automatically post first thing Friday morning. Get it?

I used to want to be a writer of fiction. I used to think that one day I would get paid for writing about things that never happened. I used to dream that people would get lost in my worlds. I'd like to be that way again and I figure setting myself a goal to put a little bit of fiction down each week is a good way to start.

I don't promise that I'll finish things that get started. Sometimes, I'll be borrowing other people's worlds (they'll all be labeled "fan fic", though). And I can't promise that anything'll be good. But I'm gonna try.

Anyway, today's bit of fiction is me entering into Queenie's realm. I don't know if I've made it clear here (and sometimes I'm not sure if I've made it clear over at Queenie's) that I really like the "Punks" stories. Things happen that scare me, but I really can't get enough of them. There's something about Minnie and Tommy and their relationship that just gets me. The stories are spectacular (although, everything Queenie writes over there is great) and I highly recommend you read them, but, hopefully, it won't be necessary.

And before we get started with the actual fiction for today, this was where this story ended. I got to the point where it stops and something told me that Queenie wouldn't go any farther and neither should I. Only she knows if that's true. At some point down the road, I want to write another with more about this character; I'm just not sure when it'll be.

Here goes:

Punks-A Nobody

Minnie was 14. She liked wearing bright red lipstick and getting high. And Alan loved her. He knew he loved her like no one else could.
But Minnie didn't know that. Alan figured she didn't even know who he was.

Alan was one of the kid in school who showed up every day. He went to every class he had.
Minnie didn't. Some days she'd be there; some days she wouldn't.
Alan couldn't figure out why, but he was sure she had her reasons.
Maybe it was the grass she smoked. Maybe she just hated the place too much.
He'd never know.

On the days that Minnie went to school all day, Alan only had two times to really see her.
The first place was in home room, but that was only for ten minutes in the morning. Not enough time for anything.
The second was after lunch, in math. When Minnie showed up, her lips just as bright as they were in the morning, she sat in the back right corner, near the windows. Alan sat on the left.
When she showed up, he watched her.
He watched her lean forward and put her face in her hand.
He watched her blow her hair out of her eyes.
He watched her lean back in her chair and look at the light above her.
He watched her stare out the window.
He watched her and tried to imagine all the things she was thinking.
And when he couldn't imagine that anymore, he imagined all the things he'd like to do with her.

Minnie was in home room that morning, but that didn't guarantee that she'd be there after lunch, but Alan didn't mind because he'd heard something at lunch.
At lunch, Alan went down the stairs near the basement door. There was a janitor's closet there that he could jimmy open.
No one bothered him there. No one else ever came down the stairs. Except for today.

A couple came down. A guy and a girl.
He pushed her against the basement door and leaned down into her neck and started kissing.
Alan saw this because When he pulled the door closed he always left a crack so he could get just enough light to eat by. He scooted back into the shadow so he wouldn't be seen, but he could still hear.
"Did you hear about that bitch?" asked the girl.
"Uhhhhn," said the guy.
"That skank, Minnie, the one who wears the lipstick that makes her look like a whore."
"Uhhhhn."
"I heard she's fucking that guy she's always with."
"Uhhhhn."
"I can't believe I was ever friends with that little slut."
"Uhhhhn."
Then all he heard were the smacking sounds of their kissing.

He knew who the guy was that Minnie was always with. It was Tommy.
The first time Alan saw Tommy take Minnie's hand in the hallway, he wished he were Tommy.
And now he knew they were fucking.
And in his mind they kissing.
And his hand slid down his stomach and into his pants.
And he saw Minnie, naked, with Tommy, naked, kissing her tits.
And Alan undid his pants with his other hand.
And Tommy was kissing Minnie on the mouth and Minnie was stroking Tommy with her hand.
And Alan was pumping.
And Minnie was pushing herself into Tommy as Tommy pushed into her, trying to make him go deeper.
And Alan's breathing started to get faster.
And Minnie opened her mouth and took in several short, quick breaths before gasping and sighing.
And Alan felt himself release, his breathing getting more even.
And he hoped he didn't get anything on his bag.

7 comments:

Queenie said...

I am glad that you have set some goals for yourself.

I think your story is pretty good. I am impressed with how well you are able to mimic my sentence structure. The sexual yearnings. And all the Ands! This is so exciting to me.
This is a HUGE honour.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
:)

Q

Anonymous said...

Oi, achei teu blog pelo google tá bem interessante gostei desse post. Quando der dá uma passada pelo meu blog, é sobre camisetas personalizadas, mostra passo a passo como criar uma camiseta personalizada bem maneira. Se você quiser linkar meu blog no seu eu ficaria agradecido, até mais e sucesso. (If you speak English can see the version in English of the Camiseta Personalizada. If he will be possible add my blog in your blogroll I thankful, bye friend).

ticknart said...

Q -- Thank you very, very much for the compliment. The way you structure things isn't easy, that's one of the reasons I read all those stories again, to try and immerse myself in your style. Also, I just like the stuff you write.

Thanks, again.

Rodrigo -- First, the link to the English version of the page isn't working.

Second, it looks like you're selling t-shirts, not actually writing a blog that's going to be interesting. A point that really comes up because your name in these comments doesn't link to a profile page.

Third, he will not adding you to any kind of blogroll.

Jazz said...

Oh! I'm liking this... You're giving me a reason to look forward to work on Fridays.

'Course if you could find it in your heart to post the stories Monday, there would be no alliteration, but it would give me a reason to get up...

OH, and I hope he didn't squeege on his bad either.

ticknart said...

Sorry, Jazz, but it's staying on Fridays, mostly for the alliteration, but there are other reasons, like my ability to not want to do anything on weekends except lay there breathing.

And I've never heard it referred to as "squeege" before. The only thing I can think of to say to that is, "Tee-hee!"

Anonymous said...

And MY first thought is, "I hope the poor janitor doesn't step in it."

ticknart said...

Moooooo -- It's not your bag, though.