Really long chapter, sry. Kinda sucky too. Heh. ( Been so busy. Science
teacher is a ass.
…
Is it just me or when I read certain stories I think of certain songs? Maybe the stories remind me of the song, or vice versa. Do u know what I mean? Maybe it's just me.
He sips his ice-cream soda when suddenly Evie enters.
Steve sees his through the crowd.
"Evie!" He calls. He smiles.
Evie sees him, her lips twitch, her forehead furrows.
She sits next to him.
"An ice-cream soda for her."
Helen's flabby arm places a soda on the table.
And then Evie and Helen's eyes meet, and they have an understanding. They know. People know. Helen smiles with her lips closed.
Evie is a dark-blonde girl with a puggish nose and little pursed full lips. Her face of heart shaped and pink. Her hair was shoulder length and bobbed at the edges that curled up almost to her pink ears. She was small girl, with tiny doll like feet and hands .She often wore underwear that made her figure look like an hourglass, with notable bust, a tiny waist and large curvy hips. Her eyes were shining and dark like black glass, all eyeliner and eyelash and sparkle. Her hands twitch.
" Let's get out of this dump and go somewhere real quiet and nice like bay- beeee. "Steve puts his hand on her arm.
"No Steve. I wanna stay." Her neck stains forwards, her voice is anxious like a fussy mother and she shrugs his hand away.
"Fine, we'll stay here. We'll stay here and drink our goddamn drinks.
"Steve. I don't know why I bother with you." She smooths the wrinkles in her skirt and she swallows, the lump in her throat goes up and down, her eyes are wide and glassy.
" I ain't gonna bother with you no longer. Let's break this up okay ? See other people okay? " Her voice rises and her eyes flicker and she cups her face with one hand.
"What do ya mean break this up?" Stranger Steve stares. He feels as if he is being slowly consumed alive from his finger tips, and that he must rip out of his skin- better yet rip Evie out of her skin.
She takes out a long pale cigarette and places it between her lips, she lights it awkwardly and quickly, her eyes looks dumb and dense batting up and down every moment. The tips glows, and she blows too much smoke between her lips. She obviously does not inhale.
"You don't take me out to nice places, and we don't have fun anymore-it's awkward Steve. There are plenty of girls that- it'll be better for us both -don't you see-" She rubs her hair between her finger and holds her cigarette in the other. She stares at the cigarette and it is slowly being consumed by fire. Her words are dead, inert. They bounce off him and hit the walls and echo meaninglessly and absorb into the mildew and grease.
"You're just a big heap of dough gone sour okay?" She snaps, staring Steve right in the eyes. Her eyes widen and she looks away.
He tries to smile, he leans forward
"I could change baby. I could be different with you. " He says this gently and smooth, his eyebrows raised and his lips curled. How suave is he!
She bows her head.
She puts her hands over her face.
Her shoulders start to shake, gently.
And tiny little whimpers escape from her body.
Oh yes, Steve knows, she is crying. Crying like she hasn't cried before in front of him, because she hasn't cried before in front of him.
It will look bad, it will look like he was beating her and called her a whore that makes her sob in public. "Look at that", the patrons will say " A man that makes a woman cry." They'll shake they're heads and go "TSK TSK" rolling their snuff in their mouths, smacking their lips together in unison, like a herd of cows.
Steve enjoys eating steaks.
She uncovers her mouth
She falls forward.
She burst into high shrieking wheezing laughter; she drops her cigarettes in the dish. Her eyes sparkle more then ever.
He feels a swelling and tenderness in his chest, his heart is under the effect of some rare painful poison, making it grow bigger and softer until it rips through muscle and bone until it burst and the poison is released contaminating every cell of his body like a man soaked in gasoline combusts when he in contact with a tiny flame and Evie has just ignited it, laughing with tears her eyes, wheezing stagnant air that feeds the flames and he has crumbled into fine black ash that she rubs against her fingers, laughing sweetly just like the minister, the parents had taken his ash and rubbed it on their faces like makeup powder- trying to put a sad face on Johnny death, but they loved , adored him and his noble cause- they swam in it until they were tired and hopped out dripping wet and dried themselves upon it.
"In the Casanova role you'd be a riot." She says giggling, she grins sloppily.
He feels a shrinking in his chest; his heart is growing old and hard. He is aging right there, and is shrinking, it's muscles tighten and it gives him great unique pain- his pain and his heart shrivels into it is nothing but an brittle little crumpled shell then into nothingness, and the flames pain him and he must scream out in pain, he must do something. He mustn't die. He won't let you swim in him! HE knows how much you need to, you bastards, but he won't!
Let the lack of his voice be heard!
Steve grabs her face with his thumb and forefinger and squeezes Evie's rosy cheeks together. Her face distorts like a sponge being squeezed through the middle. Her face becomes more red and flushed. She gasps through her now sunken squashed face.
"Youff basturd."Her voice quakes, muffled and distorted because her face is being crushed. Her eyes widen, and shine with pain tears as her hands clutch her shoulders protectively and he has made her cry. Tsk tsk tsk.
Steve lets go; his hand smells sweet like perfume and tangy sweat and peach sticky makeup.
Evie stares. She looks like a rabbit. Her noise twitches and her eyes glaze with fading pain tears and she sucks on her teeth, her flesh quivers. She starts to stand.
Oh, he hurt his rabbit, his sweet perfume peach sticky rabbit, crushed her until she is wounded, and she will ache and glorify like Johnny and he feeds upon her ache. "I didn't mean to get rough baby. Evie- I'm sorry, Evie-" He grabs her holding his hands on her waist, her waist stiff with women's undergarments, and tighten muscles, and he wants to lay his head on her stiff lap and clutch at her skirt, that will become his skirt because she belongs to him, this little rabbit of his.
"Get away the hell from me! You're a crumb bun Steve and you'll always will be. I liked you when you were smart or had a buck to spend on a girl, but now you got nether of those" She smacks his hands away, her eyes wild and her face more flushed then ever, her lips convulsing in fury.
"You don't mean it." His voice is wheedling and high, he grabs her waist once more, he needs this because he has not much else, he needs to another to build himself, to make himself and Evie is a pretty sliver thread that he loves dearly that he needs in his tapestry.
"I do mean it. We're through. Beat it." Her voice is strong and cold and gray, like thick wool that chokes and sticks instead of thin delicate sliver thread.
"Evie, evie, what would you think if I was smart or if I had a little cash?" He holds her hands in his, and an throbbing ache begins in his muscles, and he is sweating. What is he saying?
I don't wanna play no 20 questions." Her lips pressed tightly together and her skin squirms beneath him.
"It's no gag. I'll have some dough on me soon. It'll be yours for anything you want. I'll deliver. You see it don't you?" he smiles weakly, the sweat collects. An empty promise that seeps into him like a drug. Oh, it's a miracle- the pain is gone!
"Then I might change my mind about you. " Her face softens, her skin calms, and her lips part slightly.
"Sure you will. I'm okay baby." He is well and good.
She smiles shakily.
…
Is it just me or when I read certain stories I think of certain songs? Maybe the stories remind me of the song, or vice versa. Do u know what I mean? Maybe it's just me.
He sips his ice-cream soda when suddenly Evie enters.
Steve sees his through the crowd.
"Evie!" He calls. He smiles.
Evie sees him, her lips twitch, her forehead furrows.
She sits next to him.
"An ice-cream soda for her."
Helen's flabby arm places a soda on the table.
And then Evie and Helen's eyes meet, and they have an understanding. They know. People know. Helen smiles with her lips closed.
Evie is a dark-blonde girl with a puggish nose and little pursed full lips. Her face of heart shaped and pink. Her hair was shoulder length and bobbed at the edges that curled up almost to her pink ears. She was small girl, with tiny doll like feet and hands .She often wore underwear that made her figure look like an hourglass, with notable bust, a tiny waist and large curvy hips. Her eyes were shining and dark like black glass, all eyeliner and eyelash and sparkle. Her hands twitch.
" Let's get out of this dump and go somewhere real quiet and nice like bay- beeee. "Steve puts his hand on her arm.
"No Steve. I wanna stay." Her neck stains forwards, her voice is anxious like a fussy mother and she shrugs his hand away.
"Fine, we'll stay here. We'll stay here and drink our goddamn drinks.
"Steve. I don't know why I bother with you." She smooths the wrinkles in her skirt and she swallows, the lump in her throat goes up and down, her eyes are wide and glassy.
" I ain't gonna bother with you no longer. Let's break this up okay ? See other people okay? " Her voice rises and her eyes flicker and she cups her face with one hand.
"What do ya mean break this up?" Stranger Steve stares. He feels as if he is being slowly consumed alive from his finger tips, and that he must rip out of his skin- better yet rip Evie out of her skin.
She takes out a long pale cigarette and places it between her lips, she lights it awkwardly and quickly, her eyes looks dumb and dense batting up and down every moment. The tips glows, and she blows too much smoke between her lips. She obviously does not inhale.
"You don't take me out to nice places, and we don't have fun anymore-it's awkward Steve. There are plenty of girls that- it'll be better for us both -don't you see-" She rubs her hair between her finger and holds her cigarette in the other. She stares at the cigarette and it is slowly being consumed by fire. Her words are dead, inert. They bounce off him and hit the walls and echo meaninglessly and absorb into the mildew and grease.
"You're just a big heap of dough gone sour okay?" She snaps, staring Steve right in the eyes. Her eyes widen and she looks away.
He tries to smile, he leans forward
"I could change baby. I could be different with you. " He says this gently and smooth, his eyebrows raised and his lips curled. How suave is he!
She bows her head.
She puts her hands over her face.
Her shoulders start to shake, gently.
And tiny little whimpers escape from her body.
Oh yes, Steve knows, she is crying. Crying like she hasn't cried before in front of him, because she hasn't cried before in front of him.
It will look bad, it will look like he was beating her and called her a whore that makes her sob in public. "Look at that", the patrons will say " A man that makes a woman cry." They'll shake they're heads and go "TSK TSK" rolling their snuff in their mouths, smacking their lips together in unison, like a herd of cows.
Steve enjoys eating steaks.
She uncovers her mouth
She falls forward.
She burst into high shrieking wheezing laughter; she drops her cigarettes in the dish. Her eyes sparkle more then ever.
He feels a swelling and tenderness in his chest, his heart is under the effect of some rare painful poison, making it grow bigger and softer until it rips through muscle and bone until it burst and the poison is released contaminating every cell of his body like a man soaked in gasoline combusts when he in contact with a tiny flame and Evie has just ignited it, laughing with tears her eyes, wheezing stagnant air that feeds the flames and he has crumbled into fine black ash that she rubs against her fingers, laughing sweetly just like the minister, the parents had taken his ash and rubbed it on their faces like makeup powder- trying to put a sad face on Johnny death, but they loved , adored him and his noble cause- they swam in it until they were tired and hopped out dripping wet and dried themselves upon it.
"In the Casanova role you'd be a riot." She says giggling, she grins sloppily.
He feels a shrinking in his chest; his heart is growing old and hard. He is aging right there, and is shrinking, it's muscles tighten and it gives him great unique pain- his pain and his heart shrivels into it is nothing but an brittle little crumpled shell then into nothingness, and the flames pain him and he must scream out in pain, he must do something. He mustn't die. He won't let you swim in him! HE knows how much you need to, you bastards, but he won't!
Let the lack of his voice be heard!
Steve grabs her face with his thumb and forefinger and squeezes Evie's rosy cheeks together. Her face distorts like a sponge being squeezed through the middle. Her face becomes more red and flushed. She gasps through her now sunken squashed face.
"Youff basturd."Her voice quakes, muffled and distorted because her face is being crushed. Her eyes widen, and shine with pain tears as her hands clutch her shoulders protectively and he has made her cry. Tsk tsk tsk.
Steve lets go; his hand smells sweet like perfume and tangy sweat and peach sticky makeup.
Evie stares. She looks like a rabbit. Her noise twitches and her eyes glaze with fading pain tears and she sucks on her teeth, her flesh quivers. She starts to stand.
Oh, he hurt his rabbit, his sweet perfume peach sticky rabbit, crushed her until she is wounded, and she will ache and glorify like Johnny and he feeds upon her ache. "I didn't mean to get rough baby. Evie- I'm sorry, Evie-" He grabs her holding his hands on her waist, her waist stiff with women's undergarments, and tighten muscles, and he wants to lay his head on her stiff lap and clutch at her skirt, that will become his skirt because she belongs to him, this little rabbit of his.
"Get away the hell from me! You're a crumb bun Steve and you'll always will be. I liked you when you were smart or had a buck to spend on a girl, but now you got nether of those" She smacks his hands away, her eyes wild and her face more flushed then ever, her lips convulsing in fury.
"You don't mean it." His voice is wheedling and high, he grabs her waist once more, he needs this because he has not much else, he needs to another to build himself, to make himself and Evie is a pretty sliver thread that he loves dearly that he needs in his tapestry.
"I do mean it. We're through. Beat it." Her voice is strong and cold and gray, like thick wool that chokes and sticks instead of thin delicate sliver thread.
"Evie, evie, what would you think if I was smart or if I had a little cash?" He holds her hands in his, and an throbbing ache begins in his muscles, and he is sweating. What is he saying?
I don't wanna play no 20 questions." Her lips pressed tightly together and her skin squirms beneath him.
"It's no gag. I'll have some dough on me soon. It'll be yours for anything you want. I'll deliver. You see it don't you?" he smiles weakly, the sweat collects. An empty promise that seeps into him like a drug. Oh, it's a miracle- the pain is gone!
"Then I might change my mind about you. " Her face softens, her skin calms, and her lips part slightly.
"Sure you will. I'm okay baby." He is well and good.
She smiles shakily.