I finally cracked the nut :-)
First assignment was using interesting words to enrich my writing...
“The Barb” is a buxom
blonde. To describe her as gaudy would
be a compliment. Her talons are an inch
too long and her hair is a remarkably fake shade of yellow. Typically her
make-up is plastered on much too thick and she has lipstick on her teeth. Barb’s
red dress is so short and tight that I can see the stitching straining at the
seams. Her legs are adorned with red fishnet stockings and her toes are leering
over the edge of her peep toed emerald green stilettos.
Her laugh is too loud,
her smile too wide and she cants on about nonsense. She is the queen of inappropriate and
tactless remarks with absolutely no compunction for invading personal
space. Combine this with her overzealous
responses and her company is excruciating.
As she speaks, the air becomes
redolent with her profusely sweet perfume coalesced with a stale garlic odour of
her breath. I feel myself gag and recoil,
desperately searching for an excuse to flee.
Thankfully, Haydn’s
eyes meet mine. He calls out to me with feigned
desperation, amusement etched into his face.
“Oh, please excuse me,” I say, relieved.
As I turn towards my
husband, Barb grabs my arm, determined to stymie my departure. Usually I am open-minded and altruistic, but
this limpid, lewd, walking foible in her ridiculous outfit is more than I can
tolerate. I yank my arm from her importunate
grip, flushing with barely controlled fury.
I have an intractable urge to slap her pretentious fat, face.
At that moment my cavalier
companion swoops in with knightly grace and eases me away from Barb and her
barbaric behaviour! Within seconds we are
outside on the balcony and I can once again draw breath. The night air is crisp and fresh. I hear him chortle and chuckle as I feel the angry
redness slowly drain from my face. I fling
myself into his arms with a giggle, kiss his neck and say in a slow southern
accent, “My hero!”
“Let’s get out of here?”
he suggests, grinning salaciously. I assent
to his wishes. Withdrawing his keys from
his pocket, he takes my hand and we head off.
By the time we reach
our car we are ambivalent about leaving.
Our last intention is to decimate our friendships and disillusion our
hosts (and… my coat was still hanging in
the entrance hall). With stoic
determination we turn back to ameliorate our departure. We sneak back in the way we came, carefully
avoiding any further exchange with “The Barb”.
The brief for this one was a childhood memory of smell...
I like shopping with my mum.
The Mall is so big. I hold mummy’s hand tight, so I won’t get
lost. The milkshake shop is my best. It smells all yummy, like candy, chocolate,
caramel and bubble-gum. It makes me lick
my lips, “Muuhum…” I begin in my special asking voice.
“Maybe later, okay?” she replies with
a little smile, before I even asked.
I try not to sulk, but I force my
bottom lip down anyway and give her cross eyes.
She does not see. “Maybe later,” usually means no.
Yay, we are going in the glass
elevator that makes my tummy go flip floppy.
I can’t stand by the glass because there are too many people. The tall man with grey pants is in the
way. I bend my legs and look through the
triangle his legs make.
Rumble,
squeak, pop!
Eeew!
Stinky! That man just fluffed -
right in my face! It smells like egg
sandwiches, only worse. I turn my head
and try to jiggle the smelly yuck out my nose.
I look up and open my mouth to tell mum but she quickly shakes her head
and does the frown.
I close my mouth, this is a “think but don’t say” time. I wish I could say though, because I even
have a nasty taste in my mouth! That man
must eat eggs all the time, maybe he has his own chickens laying eggs every
day!
That’s another bad thing about being
small. If I was bigger my nose would not
be so close to his butt! I pinch my nose
with my fingers and wait for the door to open.
Mummy puts her hand on my back
and pushes me forward in a quick march.
