This is going to be in three parts to make it easier to read and shorter,
not so boring,
there's a twist at the end,
i wonder if anyone notices what it is and makes any assumptions,
:D,
please review.
Contains swearing and sexual references,
so not for the easily offended or minors.
The answer? No.
She tapped the ash from her slowly disintegrating cigarette onto the floor and let a thin, stale wisp of smoke shoot out from her nostrils. She sighed, resting her head against the train's window- smoking was banned, but she didn't care. She pondered, to be or not to be, that was the question that seemed to run constantly through her head, left, right, even centre. To risk it, to let it be- life was like a list, a list full of commas and short sentences. Her life was literally event after event, to be happy or not to be happy? That was the question. The answer? Not.
Slowly the train lugged to a halt at her stop. She grabbed her Jimmy Choo handbag from the seat beside her roughly and stood up, dropping her cigarette in the process and smudging it into the floor with her expensive heel. A woman sitting a few seats away faced her and threw her a disgusted look before coughing loudly and poignantly. The dirty look bounced off her award winning sarcastic smile and she bounded down the aisle to the door at which she was to get off. Holding on to the bar inside the train she gracefully lowered her self onto the platform below. There was nothing erratic about this girl, nothing clumsy or ditzy, she had questions which needed answers but she was always in control. She flipped a long honey coloured lock of hair over her shoulder, gracefully of course, and began strutting down the platform like she owned the place. A few dropped jaws signalled that she was accumulating attention and a whistle from a pathetic man doing some kind of construction work confirmed that she still, indeed, had 'it'. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help letting the smallest smile crawl its way onto her features. Her tight skinny jeans cut into her skin when her long legs swapped sides as she walked- her heels created deep grooves in the top of her feet and she could feel a blister the size of Kentucky start to emerge on the back of one of her feet. But who was she to complain? Beauty was pain, and boy was she beautiful. A vibrating in her pocket snapped her out of her self obsessed reverie and as she flipped open her cell she made sure to give herself a quick once over in its shiny reflection, damn was she smoking- this would be too easy.
"Hello?"
"Look it's me, just listen before you hang up, I need to talk to you" a frenzied voice plead with her on the other end. She looked down boredly at a lengthy manicured nail.
"I'm listening" she replied with little enthusiasm.
"Just think about what you're doing"
"I am thinking, you know what else I'm thinking?"
"What?" the girl braced herself.
"Bye" and with that she snapped her phone shut and slid it into her back pocket with some serious friction. She took small and quick steps down the stairs, not touching the banister because she didn't want to get her hands dirty- there would be enough of that later in the day. The wind whipped her face, sending shivers down her spine, as she walked the bustling streets of New York at 8 am on a late autumn morning, drills and cement mixers overrode the sounds of the birds in the trees and the dogs in the parks. She was nearing her destination- the Pent House. His Pent House. 3 more steps took her to the first door she must conquer that day. A long ring on his intercom allowed the initiation of the soon to be encounter. The frizzle on the other end suggested he was listening.
"It's me" 2 short words- and it's begun. A beep sounded signalling for her to let herself in. She took to the stairs, two at a time this time to get their as soon as humanly possible. She reached his door- red, passionate. It was already open; he had either anticipated her arrival or opened it prior so he wouldn't have to look her straight in the eyes. Normally she would let herself straight in, sit down on the large leather sofa and spread out- making the space around her, her own. But this time it was different, she wanted to look serious- therefore she had to do things properly. She knocked and waited. 10 seconds didn't pass before he was standing in front of her, looking awful, red puffy eyes, pale strained skin- yes, this would be too easy.
Revieeeeeeeeew,
and read the next chapter.
x