3WW CCXLIX "Looker"
The words over at Three Word Wednesday are indecision, option and fate. This is the latest I’ve ever contributed, but things are afoot. I was traveling last week to my hometown and then to Wyoming to check out a job. These words were selected on my second day of the interview.
I took the job.
Something short and sweet, since I’ve not missed a #3WW since my first – Jan. 10, 2008.
Looker
The look on her face was one of indecision, but she pretended it was indifference. She wasn’t fooling anyone.
The bar was crowded for a Wednesday, and the lurkers, those non-players, were already lined along the bar, sipping slowly on overpriced beers, hoping to make them last before the bartenders got wise and sent over the bouncers to exude a bit of “drinking pressure” on the fucking posers.
The real action was in the darkened corners, where deals were getting done, actions set in motion. The darkness seemed to breath in those corners, like a body taking massive gulps of air as if prompted by excitement. Or fear.
She smiled a toothy grin that glowed in the harsh black light of the club and the indecision fell away from her face like cleansing teardrops.
“Shit,” she whispered, “the options are endless in a dive like this.”
She headed for the darkness like a moth heads to light, gaining such kinetic speed at whatever cost.
He stepped into her path, set his shoulders, took a sip of his drink, through the little cocktail straw.
She sized him up, calculated the pros and the cons, waited for his opening line to decide.
“What brings such a hottie out to a dive like this?” he said, running his hand across her black-leather-clad ass.
She licked her lips, full and pouty – painted scarlet and lined in black – cocked an eyebrow and smiled.
“So soon,” she thought.
“Fate,” she said.
I took the job.
Something short and sweet, since I’ve not missed a #3WW since my first – Jan. 10, 2008.
Looker
The look on her face was one of indecision, but she pretended it was indifference. She wasn’t fooling anyone.
The bar was crowded for a Wednesday, and the lurkers, those non-players, were already lined along the bar, sipping slowly on overpriced beers, hoping to make them last before the bartenders got wise and sent over the bouncers to exude a bit of “drinking pressure” on the fucking posers.
The real action was in the darkened corners, where deals were getting done, actions set in motion. The darkness seemed to breath in those corners, like a body taking massive gulps of air as if prompted by excitement. Or fear.
She smiled a toothy grin that glowed in the harsh black light of the club and the indecision fell away from her face like cleansing teardrops.
“Shit,” she whispered, “the options are endless in a dive like this.”
She headed for the darkness like a moth heads to light, gaining such kinetic speed at whatever cost.
He stepped into her path, set his shoulders, took a sip of his drink, through the little cocktail straw.
She sized him up, calculated the pros and the cons, waited for his opening line to decide.
“What brings such a hottie out to a dive like this?” he said, running his hand across her black-leather-clad ass.
She licked her lips, full and pouty – painted scarlet and lined in black – cocked an eyebrow and smiled.
“So soon,” she thought.
“Fate,” she said.
Comments
Love it.