A + Yes!

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.