19AD8 | A Short Story: Storytelling.
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A Short Story: Storytelling.

*This story is entirely a work of fiction.*

(Theatrical Sci-Fi writing practice)

I said:

Jane… like I said before, I don’t even really cheat that much… I don’t even really cheat.

Isabella said:

Yeah Jane… he doesn’t even really cheat that much.

Jane said:

Avi… can I speak to you in private for a few minutes please?

I said:
(Smiles and looks at Isabella)

Sure.

[Isabella leaves the room]

I said:

(Laughs)

So, what’s up?

Jane said:

(Starts punching me)

How many times do I have to tell you not to bring Isabella into an argument with me?

(Continues punching me)

And why is she continuing to speak stupid like you do?

I said:

(Annoyingly laughs)

Shorty, I’m sustaining a lot of damage from you right now.

Jane said:

(Grimaces)

Oh, right, I forgot… you don’t even cheat ‘that much.’

I said:

(Continues to childishly laugh)

I’m not sure why you’re tripping… even Isabella told you that I don’t really cheat…. I don’t even remember the last time I was cheating… everyone has a cheat day.

Jane said:

(Slaps me in the face)

You just continue to contradict yourself hypocritically… I swear… laugh one more time while I’m trying to have this conversation with you and see what happens to you

I said:

(Tries not to laugh)

I wasn’t even laughing… I wasn’t even trying to laugh, I was just breathing. Can I breathe? Or is that cheating…

Jane said:
(Sassily angry)

You’re really funny.

[Jane walks to the other room and returns with a trash bag]

Jane said:

Do you know what is in here?

I said:

(Talks stupidly)

I don’t know? Trash or whatever?

Jane said:

(A hiccup laugh)

Wrong.

[Jane opens the trash bag and it’s filled with my most recent notebooks]

I said:

(Smiles)

At least you weren’t calling my notebooks and writings trash…

[Jane abruptly walks over to the balcony and hangs the trash bag over the railing]

I said:

(Serious tone of voice)

You better not, Jane, you better not. Those are my most recent writings; I really need those. I’ve spent months on them.

[Jane smiles and then dumps all of the notebooks over the balcony and they fall into the pool below]

Jane said:

(Sweet, innocent tone of voice)

There… now they’re ‘wetter’ just how you like it. Right?

[I run over to the and see all of my notebooks destroyed in the pool]

I said:
(Loudly)

Jane… what are you fucking stupid? Do you know how long I’ve been working on those? I should throw you over the balcony.

Jane said:

(Quietly laughs)

I’d like to see you try that. Oh and I’m sorry, I guess you’ll just have to find some new whores to write some shit to then.

I said:

(Calmly effective)

Are you mentally unstable or something? Do you realize what you’ve just done?

Jane said:
(Rolls her eyes)

Whoops, my bad.

I said:

(I push Jane up against the wall, passionately kiss her on the lips and then whisper in her ear)

You need to be punished… you’re a bad girl. [The room turns intensely foggy, dense yet not humid. Jane and I look at each other confused as the fog starts to dissipate and evaporate into forming elaborate and intricate murals on the walls and ceilings. A dark, reddish rain, falls from the sky in one of the wall murals and a telephone continues to ring as a onomatopoeia depicted on another wall. Images begin to calibrate in an elaborate, storytelling way as Jane and I observe.]

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