Monday, July 12, 2010

Sunday's Writing

I am having a bear of a time getting internet connection! Here is what I wrote on Sunday for my first day of WHY NOT challenge.

The prompt, from Writing Fix: Where did they buy that clothing? Write about someone, real or fictional, who is either a wolf in sheep’s clothing or a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

Surprise, surprise...I departed from the prompt. Now, bear in mind I promised to write, not that I would crank out Nobel worthy stuff. But.....here it is!


Her carefully tailored designer suit accentuated her assets perfectly. After all the work she had put in to building a body like this, she relished the attention it earned her. She entered the bar during happy hour when she knew it would be crowded with important, attractive, and, of course, wealthy businessmen. The click of her heels commanded attention as she walked across the room and found a seat at the bar. She tucked her sleek brown hair behind her ear with a well manicured hand and quickly swept the room with her eyes, determined to see if she was being noticed. And, of course, she was. But instead of returning her admirer’s glance with a smoldering bat of her eye, she blanched. Her devotee wasn’t the attorney in Armani nursing a bourbon at the bar. Nor was it the bartender, who was too young and too poor for her tastes, but nonetheless mysterious and steamy hot . Instead, she had garnered the attention of the freckly-faced, four-eyed loser who worked as a teller at the bank across the street from her office.
She tried to look away before their eyes met, but it was too late. His gaze had been fixed on her since she entered the room, certainly long enough that he recognized even the slightest movement. She managed a weak grin, then looked away, fiddling with her bracelet. A teller, she thought, finding the notion abolutely apalling. Does he think that I’d give him a moment of my time? With a body like this, I can do better. Much better. She turned her attentions away from the teller and focused on the lawyer. Maybe she could will him to look at her.

The young man who had been studying her chuckled to himself and took a sip of his cocktail. That pretentious snob, he thought. She thought I was flirting with her. I wonder if anyone will tell her that her skirt is tucked into the back of her pantyhose?

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