Sunday, 25 October 2009

Shame

Running from shop to shop, Jennie clutched at her remaining clothes in fear. Passers-by stared and laughed at the half naked freak dancing a fear foxtrot before them. As fast as Jennie grabbed at clothes to cover her modesty, so others fell from her skin until she stood wearing just a blush in front of the hysterical masses. The laughing seemed to go on and on and on... taunting, shrieking, tearing at her. She shrank back in shame from their jeers, tears running down her cheeks. Turning a corner, she climbed from a train and ran across a sandy beach to an azure sea hiding her body beneath the waves. It was cold, her arm was growing numb, a shark was biting on it. She screamed in terror and awoke in a cold sweat with George glowering above her.

"Get up, you're on" he yelled into her face, spittle covering her lips. Recoiling in confusion and revulsion Jennie pulled herself off the couch and stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was just a dream she reminded herself. Just a figment of imagination.

... She smoothed down her skirt and pulled back the curtain to the stage before seductively wrapping one silken leg around the pole and winking at the expensively dressed punter in the front row.

A Sunday Scribble. Theme: Shame

11 comments:

  1. Whoah!!!! Did you write this! Whoah!!!! ;)

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  2. Yes, this was very good...

    b

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  3. Nicely done, I like the use of the dream to illustrate shame. I also know those naked dreams.

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  4. creative, powerful and heart wrenching!

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  5. Great story! I hate those naked dreams.

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  6. Very nice. You tricked my by jaunting off in one direction and abruptly changing gears, just as if there was a dream.

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  7. Nightmares are bad enough but to have them a true reflection of your life is worse.

    Very well written indeed.

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  8. Well done - a compelling read

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  9. My gawd, I wish I could spend a moment in your mind; what a treasure that would be!!

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Thank you for your comments - I always love to hear what you think :)

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