Entrapment -- a new short story

Below is my newest short story. Enjoy and feel free to leave any feedback.

Entrapment

He doesn’t know I know he’s been seeing her for the past week. But he can’t hide the red remnants I see on his collar; he can’t betray the luscious crimson hiding in the corners of his mouth.

I wonder how they met. I wonder if he sees her at lunch everyday.

I am better than her, and today, I’ll make him choose.

My car is parked behind the second set of apartments – where he can’t see it.

I reside in the bathroom. Door shut. In front of the mirror. I’ve bathed. Doused myself in an ambrosial elixir of pheromones.

My lips pulse, dabbed with a goddess-gloss in pink. Failure is not an option.

Carefully, I liquefy black lashes and press them to my own. They mold to one another, bringing the lust of life to my irises dancing.

My skin glistens with the flawless dew of desire.

I let my hair rest on my bare chest, the long dark locks encapsulating the prize beneath.

I hear the lust of appetite jingling at the door. It’s him. The letch fumbles into the kitchen.

Pause.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he says.

My entire being feels like leaping out at him . . . but I must force myself to calm down.

I wait.

One Mississippi.

Two Mississippi.

Three.

Quietly, I open the bathroom door, my body taut and stunning in it’s nakedness. He hasn’t heard me. And I catch him with her.

Confrontation. I clear my throat so he will see me. So I can make him choose me over her.

But he just stares at me. Stunned.

Seductively, I approach him, long legged and glorious. I throw my right leg across his midsection and gracefully slide into his lap. Gently, I kiss his neck while running my fingers through his hair. The heat from his body seeps into my bare skin. I ignore the tramp beside me.

He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Jess, I just wanna finish my cherry cheesecake.”

The Battle at Marathon

The Battle at Marathon

I stumble along Pepto walls

drunken

colliding with

ambitious blue collar workers while

fluffy obstacles

protruding from a

cellar act as

magnets for the weary.

My head spins in

a maze as the trumpet

seduces

a Varsity army.

Olympic gold

I race.

Vulgar swimmers compete

along the milky way

to claim a

totipotent monarchy.

Winner take all

I lock the vault.

In three weeks you’ll

wake up with

morning sickness.

Thoughts on Pre-Parenting

Let me just begin by saying that no, I have not written in a long time and yes, it is time to begin again. Life is an amazing thing. A month ago, my little girl was born . . . and before continuing into the meat of this blog, let me also add that there are absolutely no words to describe motherhood and my feelings toward my little girl. There is not a day that goes by when I don't spend countless minutes staring at her, wondering how something so miraculous could have been made by me. She is absolutely, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on. And until you have children of your own, it is impossible to know exactly how much you can love someone.

Now, having said all this, motherhood has only inspired my imagination. And it dawns on me, I have been primed to become a mother my entire life. And it's not just me . . . we all have in some fashion. Remember growing up? I remember baby dolls. I hated them. However, that is beside the point. Baby dolls. Most of my little girlfriends loved them. They got to play "mom". And as we got older, the dolls became increasingly life-like. What was once 100% plastic, soon became a plastic toy that became human when it wet it's diaper. But it didn't stop at baby dolls. Oh no. Not only were young girls targeted toward the idea of parenthood but prepubescent boys were as well. Take a look at the Giga pet. Oh yeah. Little pets of our choice . . . dogs, cats, monkeys . . . whatever. We were thrown into responsibility with a pet we had to feed and clean up, and play with. But unlike the less lifelike Cabbage Patch Kid dolls, the Giga pet threw us into a deeper reality--a scary reality. If we didn't feed our Giga pet, if we failed to take care of it, the pet died. And for many of us, this was the way with our actual pets (even though our parents typically did all the grunt work).

I find it interesting. We are preparing to become parents early on in our childhoods. And the funny thing is, I hear the media blaming the upcoming generations outrageous behaviors on the entertainment industry. I don't dare say that Giga pets cause pregnancy, no. I am merely stating that I find it interesting how the outside world primes us for whatever it feels we should be.