13 Oct A Short Story: Storytelling.
*This story is entirely a work of fiction.*
(Theatrical Sci-Fi writing practice)
Jane… like I said before, I don’t even really cheat that much… I don’t even really cheat.
Yeah Jane… he doesn’t even really cheat that much.
Avi… can I speak to you in private for a few minutes please?
(Smiles and looks at Isabella)
[Isabella leaves the room]
So, what’s up?
(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?
Shorty, I’m sustaining a lot of damage from you right now.
Oh, right, I forgot… you don’t even cheat ‘that much.’
(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.
(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
(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…
You’re really funny.
[Jane walks to the other room and returns with a trash bag]
Do you know what is in here?
I don’t know? Trash or whatever?
(A hiccup laugh)
[Jane opens the trash bag and it’s filled with my most recent notebooks]
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]
(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]
(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]
Jane… what are you fucking stupid? Do you know how long I’ve been working on those? I should throw you over the balcony.
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.
Are you mentally unstable or something? Do you realize what you’ve just done?
(Rolls her eyes)
Whoops, my bad.
(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.]