Trebly Infected

Holy cow, I have been infected by yet another strain of this crazy virus!


And away we go...


I had been shuffling around the house for a few hours and already felt tired. The doorbell rang. I opened the front door and saw a figure striding away from the house, quickly and purposefully. I looked down and saw a bulky envelope. I picked it up. The handwriting was smudged and cramped, and I could only make out a few words. (Splotchy)

"Meet me at two o'clock at Grisham Square. Don't be late!"

What? I already had an appointment at that time. In fact, that was the only reason I had even taken off work that Wednesday. But, when I saw the photos, I knew I had to go and see what the hell was going on. Oh gosh, now I wish I hadn't, but how was I to know then that Elizabeth would take this whole thing so far?" (Freida Bee)

I saw I had an hour to go to get there so went inside, and grabbed my bag, my video camera, and just to be safe, my new taser gun that my Dad gave me for Christmas. As I drove out of town to Grisham Square, I remembered how all this began. Or should I say, began to go wrong.

Elizabeth was always someone who could talk me into anything. Her mischievous smile and "I dare you" eyes have gotten me in trouble many times before. Now looking at those damn photos, I couldn't help thinking she had done it again!

"Let's go out there," she kept saying. "No one will know," she said running her hand along my waist like she always does, knowing how it melts me. Damn her! Damn her golden brown and oh so soft spankable hide! In the back of my mind, I knew things would come to trouble. They always do with her. I should never have gone with her out to that abandoned prison for that video shoot. With all that time we were there and with all those depraved things we did, I always thought we were alone. Now I know. I was wrong. (M.Yu)

Look, lovin spoofuls of depredation are sometimes only sexy if you think someone is looking on. Proferring a grade. I often wonder if sex was really, really dull before the onset of celluloid pictures, or if it was better thanks to neither partner performing, rather just doing. Who knows? Our grandparents probably just rutted a lot. Though this is something I'd rather not think about.

But our secret was out. And does it matter if it's a secret? What's the purpose of a secret? To hide or to protect? Would I care? I don't want to hide. Protection is another matter altogether. (Jess)

2:15pm.
I stood there, hand in my pocket on the camera, bag at my feet. She was nowhere in sight. The square was clogged with businessmen, street musicians and protesters. How many of them knew our secret, or would know it soon enough? No sign of Elizabeth. She was late.

2:47pm.
I stashed the camera in my bag, pulled out the taser.

3:13pm.
Where was she? I had to wait for her. I couldn't move. I had to stay put. I scanned the crowd fruitlessly. The protesters were making a lot of noise, and some police in riot gear showed up, standing just beyond the perimeter of the square, near a grove of trees.

3:22pm.
I was getting dizzy. I leaned against a lightpole, hand in my pocket clutched around the taser like it was feeding me electrical energy.

I never really knew her. I mean, we were close, we were intimate (sure, sometimes for money, but still). Who was she? What was I expecting would happen? Who was I, for that matter? I felt woozy. I took a deep breath and tried to forget my fatigue.

I chuckled at my deteriorated physical and mental state. Elizabeth would laugh too, if she knew how square, how skittish I had become. Afraid, paranoid, overmedicated. I couldn't climb three stairs without breaking a sweat now.

The protesters started shouting. The police formed a line and took a step into the square.

And then I saw her -- Elizabeth -- fifty yards away -- staring at me, and smiling. She hadn't aged a bit. And she wasn't alone. (Splotchy)


Please continue this virus.


I tag:

Deadspot
McGone
Dale
The Idea Of Progress
Snape