13 Oct 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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