Saturday, May 5, 2018

Pobody's Nerfect ★ My Shittiest Stories... Ever (1)

Pobody's nerfect... I mean, nobody's perfect...

Throughout my writing journey, I've written some really shitty shit. Wanna know how you can tell if your story is crappy?

  1. It took you ten minutes to write and you hated it the whole time.
  2. When you're done, you write yourself comments like 'burn this' or 'use for torture'.
  3. Even your dog (or) mother hates it, any they're your biggest fan (s).
  4. Your critique partner loses their lunch when they read it.
  5. It makes no sense...

That being said, here is the first of a handful of my shittiest stories...


Hotel



There’s a seedy little hotel, in a forgotten section of town. It is ‘across the tracks’, if you will. A place I never drive through without my windows up and my doors locked. Crime is high and people are angry in this area.
Impoverished.
Hungry and worn down.
Sick of everything and ready to snap.
I came here to meet Ted, (because it was the only place my husband wouldn’t look for me if he ever did figure out I was missing). Ted and I slipped off and met at places like this more and more often, but things were getting stale.
Ted was getting on my nerves and this would be the last time I ever saw him.
He’d sung his last tune with me.
I will admit that Ted is a bit of a looker. The body of a bronzed Greek god. Dark hair, abs, chest. The works.
But he is five years younger than me, and we want different things.
It was fun while it lasted and the hubby never found out.
Not that James would care anyway.
“Be discreet.”
That was the extent of his opinion on the matter of me sneaking around with another man.
I pulled up to the hotel and saw a woman in heels sashay across the parking lot. She winked at me, then immediately lost interest, even though I was driving a Benz in a neighborhood like this. I got out of the vehicle and smoothed my skirt.
Let myself into the main office.
I always got the room.
I liked to get here early.
For what I needed to tell him, we could've gone for coffee instead. At least it would’ve saved me a few bucks.
“He’s in four.”
“What?” I looked at the attendant as she smacked her gum and leafed through a magazine.
“The guy you come here to see? He said to tell you he’s in room four.”
The desk clerk had a bit of lipstick on her teeth, but I didn’t bother to tell her.
In fact, I was slightly irritated and put off that Ted had beat me to the room. Did he know we were through? Had he met someone else here before me?
I couldn’t decide what upset me more, the fact that he might beat me to the punch or that I wasn’t in complete control of our tryst for the first time since I met him.
I sighed and let myself out of the lobby.
I tapped my knuckles on the door of room four.
Ted opened it immediately.
“Hey.” He smiled.
“Hey.”
I stepped inside and sat down at the tiny table.
“I know what you're here to say, Vic.” He told me as he closed the door.
“Oh?”
He nodded.
“That you don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Well—”
“Let me say something first. If you leave me, I’ll tell.”
I scoffed.
“The only way to keep me quiet about us, is to pay me.”
“How much?”
“A thousand bucks a week.”
“Done.”
“Then two thousand.”
“Fuck you, Ted.”
“But you just said—”
“I changed my mind. I just decided I really don't care what you do.”
I stood up to leave.
He looked too shocked to stop me.
I tried the knob of the door.
When it wouldn’t open, I flipped the lock again. Nothing.
“What is this? Are you trying to hold me for ransom or something?”
I watched as he realized he hadn’t thought this through very well.
“Ted, you're an idiot. Let me out.”
If nothing else, he was gentle and wouldn’t hurt a fly.
“Move, I can unlock it.” He said, gently nudging my shoulder as he fiddled with the door knob. After a few tries, he began to panic.
“I’m not doing this, Vic! You know I’m claustrophobic. Help me unlock the door.”
His panic scared me and I tried to unlock it again.
No luck.
“Okay, calm down, we’ll just call the office and let them know we’re locked in. No big deal.” I sat my leather handbag on the bed and grabbed the phone.
No dial tone.
No nothing.
I went to the windows as Ted watched me.
And, do you know what I saw?
Nothing.
Just beyond the window pane of the hotel was pitch darkness.
Nothing. Devoid of all light.
All. Light.
When you see something like that, and you know in your heart of hearts you're stuck in… something… worse than you can ever fathom… your stomach just— drops.
I don’t have a better word for that feeling.
Other than the knowledge that your doom is imminent.
Darkness is coming and there is no way to escape.
I let the curtains fall back to the way they were and sat on the bed next to my purse.
Ted looked at me with expectant eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. It's abso-fucking-lutely nothing.”
WTF did I just read?

Congrats... You just read a shitty story.
Can anybody say "Literary Cop Out"? 


Ugh...

This is how I felt when I finished it. (And tbph, I still feel this way about "Hotel"...) ⇩




*gags*

Better luck next time, I guess... = )

Thanks for being a trooper and reading this drivel. If you wanna read some good stories, I suggest trying Kindle Unlimited... (Wink)


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Writer. Author. Blogger. Procrastinator... My novel, Trigram, is in the works, but in the meantime, I'll probably be working on short stories such as the ones on Wicked Shorts. (Wink)

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